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Carlos and Cecil have only just made it home from their date, just a mandatory slice at Big Rico's before the part of the date that's actually important. They've only made it so far as the kitchen of Carlos's laboratory and makeshift lodging, where Carlos has Cecil backed up against the counter, kissing him sweetly, his hands on the counter on either side of Cecil's body to keep him from getting away, as if that thought were anywhere in Cecil's mind, as if that thought ever could be.

Carlos kisses his neck. "I want to experiment on you," he says softly into Cecil's ear.

"Oh," Cecil says breathily. "Are you sure we're ready?"

"More than ready," Carlos says against his skin, slipping his hand into Cecil's. Cecil lets himself be pulled away, towards a part of the lab he hasn't visited before.

Cecil thinks that maybe there should be a grand unveiling, a white sheet and a flourish, but the room is unremarkable, its central point of interest the kind of large metal surgical table that one finds in these situations. There is a pair of wrist restraints and a set of stirrups, the standard fare, not that the standard fare isn't very appealing.

"I'd like you naked," Carlos says, kissing his cheek before dropping his hand. Cecil unbuttons his shirt, watching as Carlos collects a tray and deposits it on a stand beside the table. This one does have a sheet over it, and Cecil studies it with interest, trying to discern its contents while he divests himself of his clothing. He drapes it over a convenient chair, tucking his shoes neatly underneath, and then he's waiting, ready for Carlos's command.

"Onto the table, please," Carlos says, helping Cecil up. The lab table is cool against Cecil's back, a contrast to the warmth of the restraints when Carlos wraps them around his wrists, securing Cecil firmly to the table. Cecil shifts a bit, getting comfortable before he offers Carlos his foot. This is the part that's a bit of a problem; it's not like Carlos hasn't seen him plenty of times in plenty of positions, but there's something slightly different about letting Carlos put him up in stirrups, having him spread out with nowhere to hide.

He still lets Carlos do it, because he's Carlos, wonderful Carlos, and Cecil has no doubt in his mind that Carlos is to be trusted. Once his legs are up, Carlos kisses the inside of Cecil's knee, running his hands down Cecil's thighs, and Cecil wills himself to relax. Carlos stands up, moving the tray and stand a little closer, pulling up a rolling chair so that he can sit down between Cecil's spread legs.

"I want to make sure you're comfortable and ready for the testing procedure," Carlos says. He takes the sheet off the cart, and Cecil looks down at it. There's a bottle of lubricant and a series of cylinders, with a blunt tip at one end and a ring attached to the other, each thicker than the last. Carlos plucks a pair of gloves from the box next to them, pulling them on. "I'll ask you to rate your relaxation at several points. Please give a number between one and seven, one being most relaxed and seven being most stressed. The more honest your answer, the better the results will be." He looks up at Cecil, looking focused and firm, and Cecil wants to melt. "If you could give me your first rating?"

Cecil looks between Carlos and the cylinders, the cylinders and Carlos, and he can't deny the trepidation within him. "Six?" he says, squirming a bit against the table.

"That's perfectly normal," Carlos says, nodding his head, and just hearing that makes Cecil feel more like a five already. Carlos reaches for his notebook, marking it down before pumping some of the lubricant into one of his palms. He picks up the first cylinder, slicking it up. It's not particularly big, maybe the width of one of Carlos's fingers, maybe one and a half, but Cecil's heart is still racing as Carlos positions it at his entrance. He wants more than anything to make a good test subject, not to let Carlos down, but he's not quite sure what he's being tested on.

"Take a deep breath," Carlos says, stroking Cecil's thigh as he pushes the cylinder inside, and Cecil relaxes somewhat. It isn't quite like having Carlos's fingers inside him, but it still feels good, especially when Carlos slides it slowly in and out, until it's in him all the way to the base. "Please give a rating."

"Five," Cecil tells him. "Maybe four-point-five."

Carlos nods, making a notation. He slowly pulls the cylinder out again, picking up the next one. "These are called dilators," he says, coating the second cylinder. He focuses on Cecil's ass as he pushes the dilator in, nice and slow. "Their purpose is to gradually open a specific orifice for some purpose. They can be used over a period of time or in short sequence." Cecil looks at the ceiling, unable to take the combination of Carlos's calm voice explaining a scientific fact and the feeling of the cylinder inside of him. "I want to see how long it takes for you to take all of them, Cecil."

"Oh," Cecil says, unable to come up with a better word. "Well, I'll see what I can do."

Carlos chuckles, a beautiful sound, pushing the dilator in just a little more, all the way in. "Your rating, please."

"Four," Cecil says

Carlos slides the cylinder out, reaching for the lubricant and the next dilator. "The test will become more difficult from here," he warns, and Cecil looks down. The other two were really nothing, but this dilator is considerably bigger, bigger than Carlos's cock, which is the biggest thing he's had in him for a long while. "If you feel you need to stop, please let me know, and we can continue the testing at a later date. If you feel the need to ejaculate, please do so. It's part of the testing."

"Okay," Cecil says. He wishes for a moment that one of his wrists was free, that he could reach out to Carlos, but then Carlos reaches for him, squeezing Cecil's hand for a moment before he presses the dilator in. It's definitely big inside of him, spreading him out; he'd forgotten how it felt to be that open, how good it felt to take something like that. Carlos moves it slowly, a little deeper every time, and Cecil relaxes against the table, letting it happen, letting Carlos open him up. He wants to be a good test subject, and when the testing feels like this, it's no trouble at all.

"Your rating," Carlos says softly.

"Two," Cecil tells him, and he hears Carlos note it down. Cecil makes a noise of protest as Carlos slides the cylinder out, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want Carlos to stop, but he knows that the testing must go on.

"This will be harder," Carlos warns him, as he readies the last dilator. Cecil almost scoffs at him- it might be bigger, but if the last one was that nice, it will just be nicer- until he peers down and takes a look at the thing.

"Seven," Cecil says.

Carlos wraps his hand around Cecil's cock, stroking it as he starts to push the dilator inside. "You've done so well so far in the testing," Carlos tells him. "You'll do just fine with this."

Cecil bites his lip, doing his best to calm down, but it's never been harder. He wonders if the set of dilators is missing an intermediate step, because it feels so much bigger than the last one. Carlos's hand on his cock is helping, the pleasure of it helping him relax, but it's not quite enough. "I don't know if I can do this," he says reluctantly.

"Give me just a few more moments," Carlos says. "You can do it, Cecil."

Cecil is going to respond, but Carlos leans down and sucks the head of Cecil's cock into his mouth, and Cecil forgets entirely what he had to say. He suddenly has much less impetus to stop, is much more interested in completing the testing. The dilator still feels huge inside of him, like it's going to split him open, but the combination of it and Carlos's mouth is more than enough to keep him going.

"Do you want to stop?" Carlos asks, pulling his mouth away from Cecil's cock and looking up at him, inquisitive and calm as he always is.

Cecil swallows. "I can continue," he says, groaning as Carlos starts to suck him again. He's so hard, wanting so much; the dilator is pushing on his prostate every time Carlos moves it, and he doesn't know how he's going to stand it for another moment.

That's the moment when Carlos pulls away.

"A rating, please," Carlos says.

"Uh," Cecil says, and it takes him a moment to remember what he's doing. "Six-ish?"

Carlos notes it down; then he starts to slowly work the dilator out of him. Cecil doesn't think he's ever been more frustrated, but here they are, done with the procedure.

"I want to try something a bit unorthodox," Carlos says, and his voice is deep and intense. "You've already reached the limit of the planned testing procedure, but I think you can go farther."

Cecil looks down at him, and Carlos has a pair of calipers. He's taking measurements and noting them down, a neat column of numbers on a clean sheet.

He's measuring his fist.

Cecil gulps.

"If you'd like to stop, we can stop," Carlos tells him. "But I'd like to go on with the testing."

"By all means," Cecil says, his voice coming out higher than he intended. Carlos smiles, and Cecil thinks that it was all worth it.

Carlos slicks up his hand; he looks at the lubricant thoughtfully, then just picks it up and pumps it directly onto Cecil's hole, getting him thoroughly wet. "Are you prepared to continue?" Carlos asks.

"Go right ahead," Cecil tells him, and as soon as he's said it Carlos slides his fingers in. Three of them go in easily and the fourth is nothing, not compared to what he's just taken- these dilators certainly do their job admirably. It's when Carlos starts to fold his hand, pushing in his thumb alongside his fingers, that Cecil starts to sweat. The broadest part of Carlos's hand starts to breach him, and Cecil comes so close to stopping, to telling him to take his hand out as fast as he can. He doesn't, though, because he wants it, that much of Carlos inside of him, such an important piece of him, his deft, sure hand.

Little by little the stretch recedes, replaced by an incredible fullness as Carlos curls his hand, pushing it farther in. And then suddenly Cecil realizes it's done, Carlos is in all the way up to his wrist. Cecil looks down, and Carlos is deep in the experiment, writing down his observations left-handed. He looks up suddenly, catching Cecil's face, and he smiles.

"Please give a rating, if you would," Carlos says. He twists his hand infinitesimally, and sparks go up Cecil's spine.

"I don't know," Cecil says. "I don't know, I just-"

"That's perfectly fine," Carlos says, pushing his hand in that much more, just a little bit, and Cecil's never felt like this before, not ever. Carlos's hand is so big inside of him, filling every bit of him, pressing on his prostate and everywhere else. Cecil is so close, and he doesn't even know which part it's from, Carlos's careful diligence or Carlos's hand or just the whole thing, wrapped together.

"Seven," Cecil says hoarsely. "Seven, Carlos, please-"

"I think the testing is complete," Carlos says, starting to withdraw his hand, and Cecil is on the point of protesting when he pushes it back in, moving it very slowly back and forth. He bends down and licks a stripe up Cecil's cock, just one long, slow drag of his tongue, and Cecil comes, crying out. Carlos puts a hand on his hip, holding him still, keeping him grounded until he finally comes down, forever and ever later.

Carlos pulls out of him very, very slowly, as carefully as he can, and it's such a strange sensation to feel that empty, that disconnected. It's better when Carlos quickly strips his gloves, standing up and walking around the table so that he can kiss Cecil, his hand on the side of Cecil's face. Carlos has a mark on his wrist, much farther up than Cecil expected, and Cecil is sort of proud of himself.

"You make a wonderful subject," Carlos tells him, and Cecil blushes.

"You're a better scientist," Cecil says.

"A scientist is nothing without something to study," Carlos says, smiling. "I'm glad I can study you."

As Carlos kisses him again, Cecil melts all the way down to one.