Chapter 9: Denial
The city lights smeared past the window like dying stars. Inside the car, the air was thick with sweat and salt and the metallic tang of magic. Roman’s breath came in ragged pulls, each one a battle against the demonic plug still solidly claiming his ass and the sound that stretched his cock into a throbbing, trapped pillar of need. The wine in his gut sloshed, a heavy, sickening tide.
Reese lay half-sprawled across the seat, his body a landscape of aftermath—the hard curve of his stone-packed belly, the loose, used heat of his hole. But his eyes, gleaming violet in the dim light, were fixed on Roman with unwavering hunger.
“You’re quiet,” Reese murmured, his voice rough. “Regretting your little field trip?”
Roman turned his head slowly. The movement made the plug shift minutely, a fresh wave of unbearable fullness cresting inside him. “Regret isn’t in my vocabulary. Anticipation is.” His hand, heavy and deliberate, closed around Reese’s slender throat, not squeezing, just holding. A brand. “You’re not nearly ruined enough.”
He pushed Reese down onto his back on the leather seat. The incubus went willingly, a smile playing on his swollen lips. Roman loomed over him, his own wine-distended stomach hanging between them, a obscene pendulum. With his free hand, he reached into the inner pocket of his dark coat. His fingers closed around cold, polished metal.
Reese’s eyes tracked the movement. “What now?”
“A lesson in reciprocity,” Roman said. The object caught the light: a sleek, sinister cylinder of surgical steel, slightly tapered, with a small, clear interface at its base. Wires coiled from one end. An e-stim sound.
Reese’s breath hitched, but his cock, lying against his stone-filled belly, twitched with interest.
“You like being full,” Roman continued, his thumb stroking the vulnerable hollow of Reese’s throat. “You like being stretched. Let’s see how you like being wired.”
He released Reese’s neck and grabbed his cock instead, fisting the hard, leaking length. Reese gasped. Roman brought the tip of the cold steel sound to the slit, already glistening. He pressed.
The intrusion was immediate and shocking. The metal, cold and unyielding, speared into the tight urethra. Reese cried out, his back arching off the seat. It wasn’t the brutal, tearing stretch of the demonic sound Roman bore; this was a precise, invasive drill bit, opening him up from the inside out. Roman pushed it deeper, inch by relentless inch, watching Reese’s face contort.
“Fuck! Oh, god, Roman—!”
“It’s not in your god,” Roman corrected, his voice a low rasp. He twisted the sound, a cruel corkscrew motion that made Reese shriek. The metal slid home until the base sat flush against the head of his cock, the wires trailing down like technological tendrils. Reese trembled violently, a fine, constant shake. The sensation of being packed, of being invaded in this new, clinical way, was overwhelming. Pain and pleasure braided together in his nervous system, inseparable.
“There,” Roman whispered. He connected the wires to a small, black remote he produced from another pocket. A soft, digital beep sounded. “Now we’re tuned to the same station.”
Before Reese could process the words, Roman hauled him up. He manhandled the trembling incubus onto his lap, facing him. Reese’s legs straddled Roman’s thighs, his own stone-heavy belly meeting the liquid swell of Roman’s. The contact drew a groan from both of them.
Then Roman positioned him. The head of his own cock, monstrously stretched around the dark sound within him, nudged against Reese’s stretched, slick entrance.
“Now,” Roman commanded. “Sit.”
He pulled Reese down.
Reese’s body yielded, but it was a violent, stunning invasion. His channel, already sensitized and packed with the phantom memory of stone, was forced to accommodate Roman’s girth. The sound in his own cock shifted with the motion, a bright lance of feeling. He sank slowly, impossibly, until he was fully seated, Roman buried to the hilt inside him. Reese’s ass trembled wildly around the intrusion, muscles fluttering in shocked, rhythmic pulses.
“Driver,” Roman called, his voice startlingly steady despite the strain on his face. “The estate. The long way. Now.”
The car purred into motion.
The first few turns were gentle. Each one made Reese shift in Roman’s lap, a subtle, grinding rotation that sent sparks up his spine. Roman’s hands settled on Reese’s hips, his fingers digging into the sharp bone. He didn’t thrust. He simply held him there, impaled and captive.
Then they hit a pothole.
The jolt was electric. It slammed Reese down, forcing Roman even deeper, a sudden, brutal penetration that stole the air from Reese’s lungs. At the same moment, the plug in Roman’s ass was driven upward, compressing the ocean of wine inside him. A guttural, shared groan filled the car.
“Oh, Jesus,” Reese whimpered, his forehead falling against Roman’s shoulder.
“He’s not here either,” Roman muttered. His thumb found the remote in his hand. “Just us.”
He pressed a button.
A low, buzzing current shot through the sound in Reese’s cock. It wasn’t pain. It was something else—a vibrant, internal vibration that lit up every nerve ending in his shaft. It buzzed against his prostate from the inside, a maddening, teasing stroke. Reese jolted as if struck, a broken cry tearing from him.
“That’s one,” Roman said, his own voice tight. The car took a corner, and the movement made Reese ride him, a slow, dragging slide up before gravity pulled him down again. The friction was exquisite torture. Roman increased the intensity.
The buzz became a sharp, insistent pulse. It synced with the rhythm of the car, with the pounding of Reese’s heart. Pleasure, raw and electric, radiated from his core. His body, designed to convert sensation, went into overdrive. The painful stretch of the sound became a necessary channel for the devastating current. He was being fucked by the road and electrified by Roman, all while being impossibly full.
“Please,” Reese babbled, his nails digging into Roman’s coat. “I’m gonna… the electricity, I can’t…”
“You can’t come,” Roman reminded him, his own face a mask of agony as another bump shook them. The wine in his belly sloshed violently, a visible wave under his shirt. “The sound won’t let you. It just makes you want to. Feel it.”
He twisted the dial further.
Reese screamed. The current spiked, a white-hot wire of pure stimulation coiling through his groin. It bordered on pain, flirting with it, then dissolving into a pleasure so intense his vision whited out. His body convulsed, his ass clamping down in a series of vicious, involuntary spasms around Roman’s cock. Each clench was a fresh torment for Roman, stimulating the trapped, desperate flesh around his own sound.
They were a closed circuit of denial. The city began to fall away, streetlights giving way to the deeper darkness of the outskirts. The road grew slightly rougher. Each imperfection in the asphalt was translated directly into their joined bodies. A shuddering series of vibrations from worn pavement became a relentless, rapid hum of penetration. A dip in the road became a long, sinking fall that left them both breathless.
Roman’s thumb never left the remote. He played Reese’s nervous system like an instrument, dialing the current up until Reese sobbed, then down to a maddening, teasing hum that kept him perpetually on the cliff’s edge. Reese’s cock wept continuously, pre-cum and conductive gel smearing both their stomachs.
“You’re dripping all over me,” Roman growled into his ear. “Your body is begging. It’s so pretty.”
“Fuck you,” Reese choked out, but he was grinding down, seeking more friction, more of that devastating electricity.
“You are,” Roman said, and bit his earlobe hard.
The car began the winding ascent into the wooded hills where the estate lay. The turns were sharper, the incline a constant, low-grade strain. Roman held Reese firmly through it all, his grip the only anchor in a sea of sensory overload. The mansion lay ahead, a dark silhouette against the night sky, its windows blind.
As the car crunched up the final gravel drive, Roman turned the e-stim to its highest setting and left it there.
Reese went rigid, a silent, open-mouthed scream seizing him. His body bowed backwards, every muscle locked, trembling on a peak so high it was indistinguishable from seizure. The vibrations tore through him, unrelenting, brutal, and magnificent.
The car rolled to a stop.
Roman finally released the button. The current died, leaving Reese a shuddering, oversensitive wreck in his arms, full of cock and electricity and stone. Roman was no better, his own need a feral beast rattling its cage, contained by cold metal and colder will.
Roman was no better, his own need a feral beast rattling its cage, contained by cold metal and colder will. The car idled at the foot of the estate’s grand drive, engine purring. Silence, heavy and humid, settled between them. Reese slowly pushed himself up, his movements stiff, his body singing with aftershocks from the e-stim. He looked down at Roman, at the stark torment etched into his features.
“You’re dripping,” Reese observed, his voice hoarse. He reached out, catching a bead of fluid that had welled around the base of the sound in Roman’s cock. He brought it to his lips, tasting salt and frustration. “All that power, and you’re just a messy, leaking thing.”
Roman’s jaw tightened. “Get off me.”
“No.”
In a fluid, aching motion, Reese dismounted. The loss of sensation was a hollow blow. He slid to the floor of the car, the cool leather against his knees. He positioned himself between Roman’s spread legs, his own stone-weighted belly resting on his thighs.
“What are you doing?” Roman’s question was a low warning.
“Changing the station.” Reese’s slender hands, still trembling, went to Roman’s hips. He didn’t ask. He leaned forward, his breath ghosting over the slick, stretched head of Roman’s cock, over the dark metal protruding from it. He ignored the shaft. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the very tip, right where flesh met steel.
A violent shudder wracked Roman’s frame. “Don’t.”
Reese looked up, his violet eyes luminous in the dark. “You don’t give the orders here right now.” He said it simply, a statement of fact. Then he closed his lips around the head of the sound itself, sucking gently on the cold metal.
The sensation was bizarre, indirect. But it was pressure. It was attention on the most agonizing point of his imprisonment. Roman’s head thudded back against the seat. Reese began to work, his mouth a warm, wet sheath around the invasive tool, his tongue lapping at the inflamed rim of flesh surrounding it. Each suck sent confusing, devastating signals straight to Roman’s core—relief and increased need, a terrifying promise.
Reese’s hand found the remote, still clenched in Roman’s lax fingers. He pried it loose. He never stopped his slow, suckling kisses on the sound. With his thumb, he turned the dial on the remote back on.
A low buzz shot through the metal in his own cock.
Reese moaned around Roman’s shaft, the vibration traveling through his jaw, a shared circuit. He increased the setting. The current crackled through him, bright and sharp, making his thighs tense. He answered by sucking harder, drawing more of the sound into his mouth, simulating the pull of a tight throat.
They began a brutal, silent dance. Reese would dial the e-stim up, sending jolting waves of pleasure-pain through his own groin, and in his gasping response, he would take Roman deeper, sucking and licking with desperate focus. The car’s interior filled with wet, obscene sounds and ragged breathing. Reese brought himself to the edge with a sudden, searing burst of electricity, his body locking up, a silent scream in his throat as his orgasm was blocked by the very thing causing it.
He backed off the stim, panting, drool slicking his chin. He saw Roman’s knuckles white on the seat, his stomach quivering.
“Fuck,” Roman whispered, a plea and a curse.
Reese dove back down. This time, his hands went to the base of the sound embedded in Roman. He wrapped his fingers around it. He looked up, meeting Roman’s desperate gaze. “I’m taking it out.”
He didn’t wait for permission. He began to pull, with excruciating slowness.
The sound was not meant for removal. It was meant for containment. As it shifted, millimetre by millimetre, the stretched flesh of Roman’s cock gripped it, screaming in protest. It was a reverse violation, a scalding, tearing drag. Roman cried out, a raw, broken sound he’d never made before.
Reese soothed the agony with his mouth. As he pulled the sound out another fraction, he kissed the revealed, hypersensitive head, sucking the bead of pre-cum that welled there. He laved the inflamed slit with his tongue, a counterpoint of devastating gentleness to the brutal extraction. “Shhh,” he murmured against the throbbing flesh. “Let me.”
The sound emerged with a final, wet click. Roman’s cock, suddenly free, was a dark, swollen thing, pulsing violently in the open air. Every nerve was exposed, screaming. Reese didn’t give him a second to comprehend the relief.
He swallowed him whole.
He took the entire length into his throat in one deep, practiced slide, his nose pressing into Roman’s pelvis. The sensation was catastrophic. After hours of denial, of metal confinement, the sudden, wet, swallowing heat was an absolute shock. Roman shouted, his hips bucking involuntarily.
Reese held him deep, gagging slightly, then began to move. He set a relentless, sucking rhythm, hollowing his cheeks. His own need was a secondary fire, stoked by the buzzing still present in his cock. He turned the e-stim remote to a constant, mid-level hum. It kept him achingly hard, pre-cum dripping in a steady stream onto the car mat.
Roman was unraveling. “Reese—I’m—ah, god—”
The first orgasm hit him like a seizure. It was not pleasure. It was a torrential, punishing release, years of pent-up tension and magical frustration erupting from his core. Thick ropes of cum shot down Reese’s throat. Reese drank it greedily, sucking him through the violent pulses, milking him with a firm, rhythmic pressure of his lips and tongue.
It didn’t stop. The overstimulation was immediate and agonizing. Roman sobbed, trying to pull away, but Reese held his hips down, pinning him to the seat. He kept sucking, the stimulation relentless on the ultrasensitive flesh.
A second, weaker orgasm was torn from him only moments later, a pained, dry-heaving shudder that left him trembling. Reese slowed but didn’t stop. He lapped at the softening shaft, coaxing it back to life with whispered filth. “Come on. You have more for me. I know you do.”
The e-stim in Reese’s own cock buzzed, a constant reminder. He was leaking profusely, a pool of frustration beneath him. He took Roman back into his mouth, working him with a fierce, dedicated cruelty Roman himself had taught him.
A third, horrifying peak approached. This one was pure, undiluted pain, a sensory backlash. Roman’s back arched off the seat, a choked gurgle in his throat as another weak, painful spill of fluid was forced from him. His body convulsed, spent and abused.
Reese finally released him with a wet pop. Roman collapsed, boneless, his chest heaving. Tears streaked his temples. Reese knelt amidst the evidence of his work, the taste of Roman thick on his tongue, the buzz in his own cock a relentless taunt. He looked out the window at the dark mansion looming above them, then back at the shattered demon in the seat.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Now we can go in,” he said.