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It's Never Enough For You

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The first part of the punishment was hard enough to endure. Abstinence for ten days. Tony wasn't allowed to touch himself, so he didn't. It might have been easier with a cock cage, but Steve didn't believe in cock cages, only in power of will. Speaking of which, Steve didn't touch him either, not near any erogenous zones. He just used Tony's mouth once or twice a day, and by this point Tony is on the brink of learning to come just by gagging on Steve's cock. Even a breeze makes him hard, and all he can think about is sex.


This is why he is, naively, relieved he is going to get the second part of the punishment tonight. When he sees Steve had prepped his sybian machine, he goes instantly hard. The machine is positioned on a four legged stand with rungs on two sides, at the level with Tony's chest. Affixed on top of the saddle is Tony's by far least favorite implement, the one he's tried only once. Still, at the sight of the whole contraption, he grins at Steve in excitement.


He should know better.


"Strip, prep yourself and get on top of it," Steve commands. "And don't come yet."


Rough on purpose, Tony presses lubed fingers into his own butt, avoiding the prostate like the plague. He saws in and out, scissors and unscissors with curt, practical motions. Way before he is properly ready, he impatiently pronounces that he is and climbs up the few rungs to the top of the contraption.


The problem isn't that the dildo on top is too big. It is pretty long, true, but not awfully thick. Certainly not as thick as Steve's cock. Still, it's stiff and feels unnatural and kind of nasty up his ass.


When he starts lowering himself onto it, it still feels like a million dollars. As it slides into Tony's gut, past the point he could reach with his fingers, he shudders. If Steve hasn't pinched the root of his cock hard – quite painfully too – he'd already be coming.


"Thanks, babe," Tony whispers, deciding Steve is in a merciful mood tonight. It would have been so easy to let Tony come, then punish him further for it.


"Uh," Tony says at a stab of pain. "Can't get any lower right now. Guess I didn't prep myself well enough. Could I just wait...?"


"Lower, or I'll push you down myself," Steve tells him, with a large, warning hand on Tony's shoulder, so Tony bites the inside of his lip and puts his feet on a lower rung and lowers himself further, then some more again. The pain in his gut is not of the good sort, or he isn't ready for it yet, but he obeys.


"Enough," Steve says when Tony is two or three inches above the saddle, and Tony breathes out. His cock is so hard he thinks it will burst, and he is already getting used to the stiffness in his ass. Anticipation burns hot inside him.


Without any warning the machine jolts to life inside Tony. He'd think Steve would go slow to start with, but both the vibrations and the rotation sweep through his mid-gut violently, like a concrete mixer. The days of abstinence are too much for Tony. At the powerful sensation that isn't even all that pleasurable, his knees give way suddenly and he slams the couple remaining inches down, all the way to the saddle, impaling himself brutally the rest of the way. He isn't sue if the resulting yell is because he's finally coming, convulsing and clenching without any semblance of control on the stiff rod rocking inside him – or because the pain in his intestine cuts sharply. Head hanging back, mouth open, he shoots cum halfway across the room.


He calms down at the touch of Steve's hand at the side of his neck and Steve's disappointed tutting. "Oh, Tony," he's saying. "Already. And without permission too. I might as well not count this one."


The second part of the punishment, as Steve put it, was "You owe me  ten orgasms." Tony had happily agreed.


"But fine, I'll be merciful," Steve says now. "One down."


While Tony is still too breathless to say anything, his heart pumping too hard, he notices the rotational movement inside him had slowed to a stop, but the vibrations are intensifying.


One down, nine to go.


"Holy cow, babe," he says. "You didn't mean ten in one night, did you?"


Instead of answering, Steve grabs duct tape and starts taping Tony's shins to the legs of the stand. Tony's feet are secure on rungs, and his knees still bent some, so he has some wiggle room.


Steve pats him on the stomach, gently, and Tony smiles. "Do I need to ask for permission to come next time?"


Steve thinks for a moment and shakes his head. "No, tonight you can come as you please."


Tony's cock is finally softening, and now that his head is more or less clear, he can finally appreciate his situation, and he's quite excited. He knows Steve isn't going to force him through ten orgasms in one night, because it's physically impossible. He couldn't do it when he was eighteen (he'd tried and stopped after four subsequent ones. The fourth one was quite painful). So. They are going to play some, and it will be good.


He is skewered on the giant dildo reaching who knows how high into his gut, but now that it's just buzzing gently, Tony can actually appreciate the feeling. The bump on the sybian pressing right into his perineum feels very nice too. Rocking onto it experimentally, he gasps. Too soon. He's still too sensitive. But he can tell this is going to be enjoyable.


"Gonna need a refractory period here, but hey, it's all good," he tells Steve. Steve nods and smiles and goes to get his sketchbook. Then, casually, he flips the vibrations to full power.


"Hey, whoa," Tony tries to say, but his teeth are chattering too much. The dildo feels like a train is running through his gut, racking it from the inside. The bump that had felt so nice against his perineum now feels like a hive of angry bees right inside his still-too-sensitive prostate.


He rises a bit, trying to relieve the pressure on the perineum because it's getting almost unbearable – he just needs a little rest, and he'll be enjoying this, thoroughly.


"Down," Steve tells him very calmly. "All the way. Or I get the whip."


Steve likes the whip. A lot. Tony doesn't really. Enough said. He lowers himself back down, as carefully as he can.


His cock still feels very tender, first from long abstinence and constant erections, then from the violent orgasm. Now, the whirring is shaking Tony's whole body, and his achy, pulsing cock is being jolted up and down. The heavy prostate massage make it go hard again before it's ready, and it hurts. It hurts good, though.


I might as well enjoy this, Tony thinks, since it's clear he's not going to get out of it. He rocks forward, putting additional pressure on his perineum, and the sensation jolts through him so intensely that he gasps. He then rocks back and presses his prostate against the heavily vibrating rod from the inside. He holds out for as long as he can, than leans back forward. He proceeds to intentionally torture his prostate this way. The gland throbs painfully inside him, but with every throb, a jolt of liquid pleasure rushes through his cock, and Tony is too week to resist.


Every one of his rocking motions is followed by a gasp, a hiss, and he is only half aware that they are in his voice. He almost loses himself in the waves or soreness and pleasure, when Steve's words snap him back to reality.


"You need it so badly," Steve says softly. "Just look at you. You'd do anything just to get yourself off."


Tony grins at him. "Can I get the rotations?" he asks.


"You get what you get. What you don't get is to ask. You know that. I should punish you for it. Fuck yourself on the dildo. Up and down."


Far gone as he is, riding the pleasure, Tony doesn't think this is a particularly harsh punishment. He pushes up with his legs, then down, up, and then lets himself fall, slamming his perineum against the bump. It feels so amazing that the discomfort of the dildo disappears from his mind completely.


"Faster," Steve says, and Tony is very happy to obey. The orgasm inside him builds and builds, and Tony chases it, raising as far as he can, then plunging right down, without hesitation, like riding a wild horse. He knows he'll regret this tomorrow, but he just doesn't care.


The orgasm hits slowly, a wave after wave, overlapping, and Tony is screaming and yelling and slamming himself onto the dildo until he can't any more, and then he just hangs, impaled on it, riding the vibrations, eyes blissfully closed, come leaking out. There isn't much this time, but that's only natural.


The vibrations are slowing down, too, right in time, to a pleasant drowsy buzz. Tony couldn't be happier.


Sharp, jarring pain brings him back. It's located at the very tip of his cock, but it stabs right through it. Tony opens his eyes wide, and Steve flicks a finger at the tip of his cock again, hard.


Right after an orgasm, it would be an agony. After two subsequent orgasms, it's colored by pure anguish, and Tony feels tears sting at his eyes, unwanted. He yelps in protest.


His cock is so tender and raw it can barely tolerate being held in Steve's other hand. Two more hard flicks have Tony yelling in pain, trying to squirm away, getting up on the dildo as far as the duct tape lets him, but that way, he's just tugging on his own achy cock, firmly held in Steve's hand.


"Down," Steve commands, and, resignedly, Tony sinks back on the dildo. Stabbing pain in his gut seems distant and unimportant now, compared with this new form of torture.


It seems Steve's sadistic side has risen its ugly head. It's not always there. Often simple control is quite enough for him.


"Please, Steve. Please baby," Tony says as meekly as he can, "No more. Not that. Please."


Steve looks him straight in the eye as he flicks him again, and Tony jumps uncontrollably, impaling himself on the dildo again, hard.


"Please," he whispers, as a tear slides down his cheek.


"All right," Steve agrees – all too quickly, and Tony should have known this can't be good. He spots the controller of the sybian in Steve's pocket just as Steve reaches for it, and then the rotations start. They are slowly swishing around in his abused asshole, hitting his prostate, still feeling like a mixer. They were meant to be used on a much shorter implement, not this monstrosity of a dildo.


With an almost affectionate smirk on hid face, Steve squeezes Tony's shaft. It feels like someone is sticking needles in it. Still smiling, he bends down to take a hard, rough lick at the slit on top of Tony's cock. He could as well be rubbing the shuddery, sore glans with sandpaper.


Tony's cock hasn't even had time to go soft. Tony tries to hold it in, but at the second lick, even longer and harsher than the first one, ending with the tip of Steve's tongue jamming straight into the urethra hole, a cry tears out from the depths of Tony's throat.


Steve looks up at him and grins. Then he takes Tony's cock into his mouth and starts sucking relentlessly. Unable to speak, to plead, for the moment, Tony just moans in pain. Another tear escapes him, and he hates it. The pain in his cock is excruciating. The dildo inside him feels like it's turning his intestines into a smoothie.

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Tony's voice is getting hoarse with pained oohs and aaaahs through his teeth. His fists are clenching and unclenching at his sides in time with Steve's sucking. But when Steve scraps his teeth down his shaft and lets them catch against the corona of Tony's glans, Tony jerks back uncontrollably. Barely aware what he is doing, he pushes Steve's head away.


Steve looks up at him. He lets Tony's cock slide out of his mouth. Then he straightens slowly and backhands Tony across the mouth. It's not hard, but it's hard enough to sting. After this he duct tapes Tony's arms together behind his back, elbow to wrist. The position is distinctly uncomfortable, putting heavy strain on Tony's shoulders and messing with his balance. Gravity forces him further back, even more securely impaled on the dildo now.

As he is pulling Tony's arms back and taping them together, Steve says, "Repeat to me our rules of punishment."


"I know the rules," Tony snarls as Steve wrenches his arms back, forcefully.


"Repeat them."


"If it's a punishment, I don't get to say no, I don't get to say stop" he forces the words out, "unless I am being physically damaged."


"Are you being physically damaged?"


Does it hurt? Hell yeah. It burns and stings on the surface and throbs dully on the inside and he doesn't think he'll want to touch his cock for days after this. But is it damaging? Not really.


 "N-no," he admits, and the stammer is a consequence of a particularly jarring motion of the dildo against his prostate in this new position.


The rules don't exclude use of a safe word, but that's not necessary here. Punishment is punishment and fair is only fair. And besides... With every twirl of the dildo, a new gust of pain ripples right through him, warming him, making him want more.


Steve nods righteously and goes back to sucking him off, roughly, occasionally scraping or nipping him with his teeth. Tony is sure his tormentor is thoroughly enjoying each and every one of his reflexive attempts to jerk away.


The thing is, he can feel the tide start turning, he knows the exact moment when pain starts turning into pleasure. It still hurts like hell, and Tony is sweating profusely, but his cries are slowly turning into moans and he is eager for another stinging nip of Steve's teeth to nudge him further on.


Steve evidently senses this. The more stimulation Tony needs, the gentler he gets. Prodding him on and still denying him relief. He turns the vibrations onto a lower setting. When Tony whimpers needily, in protest, he just laughs. He holds just the tip of Tony's cock between his lips, flicking and swirling the tip of his tongue over it. It's excruciatingly not enough.


Tony tries to push deeper into his mouth, convulsively, without thought. Sharp pain in his ass warns him to stay in place.


"Isn't this what you wanted?" Steve asks innocently, spitting him out and getting to his feet. "For me to be gentler with you?"


The orgasm keeps building all the while, but it's out of sight, getting further away. All Tony can get is more tantalizing stimulation with no hope of release. He wants to weep, but he lacks the energy to do so. Still, the constant vibrations tormenting his prostate won't let him get soft, get a rest.


"Do you need to come?" Steve's voice is kindly, but Tony knows him better than that, can see what this evening has turned into. He knows it's not going to be simple as that. It will include some kind of new torment, new pain.


Still, he nods.


Steve grabs hold of his cock and rubs a dry thumb over the sensitive tip, roughly. Tony screams.


"Use your words," Steve tells him sternly.


"Please, Steve, please, baby, let me come, I need to come," Tony whines with pain and need.


"All right," Steve says agreeably. He pulls Tony's cock forward and down against the machine, so that the edge of the saddle is cutting right into the sensitive head, right into Tony's slit. Then he amps the vibrations to the max.


Tony feels the full horse power of the machine violate his insides. It shakes him and jolts him, he can feel the tremors shake his internal organs. He's convulsing and trashing weekly about, unsure if he's trying to get away or to get more. He thinks he's screaming, but he can't be sure. Most of all, he's aware of the brutal vibrations tearing through his poor cock, still mercilessly clamped against the edge of the saddle by Steve's hand.


He starts coming somewhere in his gut, he thinks. By the time it reaches his prostate, it's a river of fire that's more pain than pleasure, and he's head enough, but he has no way to stop it from intensifying further. His whole body shakes and burns.


He ejaculates with Steve's thumbnail digging into his pee hole, cruelly. It's like pissing fire. Like a clump of red hot magma tearing its way down his urethra. Steve gathers the little secretion there is with his forefinger and pushes it into Tony's mouth, rubbing it against his tongue.


Tony feels run over. His shoulders are tight and achy. His lower back is starting to hurt, his groin feels rubbed raw, and all of a sudden he's cold. For the first time that evening, Tony's cock is allowed to go limp. The rotation of the sybian is turned off, the rest of it toned down. Just the overall lack of stimulation is a reward in itself. The gentle vibrations still in his gut are mostly just soothing, by now. Impaled on the dildo and very uncomfortable, Tony thinks he could just drift to sleep there and then.


He first becomes aware of Steve holding him up, and then of the touch of a water bottle against his lips. He drinks, at first obediently, and then gratefully. He wasn't even aware how parched he was, from all the screaming.


The next thing pushed between his lips is a piece of chocolate. Tony tries to shake his head – he can't eat now. A cruel pinch on his nipple makes him gasp, and the chocolate is forced into his mouth.


"Chew," Steve orders, but the pressure on his nipple eases only when Tony obeys. If he slows down, Steve pinches him again, hard. If he thinks Tony is stalling, he twists. A maddening, weepy sort of pain makes him stir and grit his teeth. Tony's body is too abused to take it, so he chews and swallows, chews and swallows, piece after piece of chocolate, and then some water again.


He tries to slump forward against Steve's shoulder, but another cruel nipple-twist almost makes him jump. He wonders if that was what he tried to accomplish in the first place. "Sit upright," Steve orders, and Tony does his best.


There are some lucky guys who are wired the right way. Touch their nipples, and it goes straight to their cock. Steve is one of them. Tony isn't. For him, nipple play can be vaguely pleasant, if Steve is being gentle, or it can be the world of pain. Right now his world of pain is keeping him focused. Steve toys with his nipples, now careful and soothing, now cruel – flicking and pulling, digging and squeezing the very tips with his nails. Tony is grateful that at least his cock is left alone for the moment.


The pain in his tits builds, reaches deeper now. It coils inside Tony and, combined with the water and food he's consumed, it invigorates him somewhat. It's easier to sit upright, to stay alert. He's not shivering any longer and he starts to get warm again.


Steve knows all of Tony's week points and now he is circling him like a predator. He knows exactly where on his body to pinch to make it hurt, knows where to stroke and pet to make Tony shiver with pleasure. Steve goes on circling him, massaging his aching shoulders, rubbing his numb hands, and then landing a sharp slap on his left ass cheek that leaves it jiggling and burning. He strokes his fingernails down Tony's neck and shoulder, and it's intense but nice. Then he twists his left nipple mercilessly, keeping it that way for ten seconds, twenty. At first the pain is a little sweet, but then it turns bad, and then it's just torture. Tony hears himself beg quietly, and knows he's messed up now. This earns him another slap across the mouth, but then Steve is peppering butterfly kisses down his chest, soothing the abused nipple with his tongue.


One moment he is barking at Tony to sit still, sit upright, stop squirming, the next he's all praise and soft words.


The mixed sensations are driving Tony crazy, keeping him on edge, driving his body towards something that absolutely cannot be pleasure at this point, but it is something. He is becoming aware of the vibrations inside him again, buzzing in his gut, massaging his prostate. He squirms on the dildo and feels his cock stir painfully. There's no way it can get hard again tonight. He'd had a refractory period, true, but Tony is all squeezed out. There's nothing left there.


Steve must notice something, because he's behind Tony in an instant. He strokes Tony's rim very gently, massaging it, awakening the tired nerve endings. As soon as Tony starts enjoying it, nails are digging into the soft membrane, excruciatingly painful. They squeeze the puckered anus against the dildo, and all Tony can do is breathe and shiver until Steve decides to stop torturing his asshole. Then it's a gentle kiss on the mouth and fluttering fingers on his hot skin all over again.


Tony doesn't want to come. The vibrations are too much and not enough. He thinks his intestine will be vibrating all on its own for the days to come, if this night is ever over. His insides feel so tender he thinks they must be scraped thin by now. Every attempt of his cock to harden further is like a blow from the inside.


Tony doesn't want to come, and yet he feels it build, and can't help but reach after it even though he knows he won't be able to suffer through it.


Steve is now behind him, running his hands up and down the straining muscles of Tony's arms.


"Tony, baby, do you want to come?" he asks softly. Tony should know it's another trap, but he's too spaced out to think.


"I... I don't know," he whispers.


A hard slap lands on his left ass cheek, the same one still burning from before. It jars Tony on the dildo, hurting, stimulating.


"Answer me."


"All right. No."




"Are you allowed to say no during punishment?" Steve asks, still softly, but there's a menacing undertone to it now.


"All right! Yes! I want to come!" Tony yells, affronted. But it's not a total lie. He just doesn't want to want to.


Another slap, landing precisely on the same spot on his ass cheek. It's beginning to actually hurt now. Tony doesn't think he's deserved this one at all, and it's not fair. He can feel Steve rub himself against Tony's leg. The fabric is coarse on Tony's skin, and every inch of Tony is oversensitized by now.


"So, come," Steve tells him calmly. And lands another hard slap. Tony cries out and feels Steve hump against him again. He knows the slaps are not about deserving this or that any more, not about teaching him a lesson, just about Steve being turned on by his pain.


"I can't, I can't," he whispers, even though he can feel he is inching closer to orgasm. And then, because the only thing that is edging him closer are Steve's jarring blows, he whispers the magical words that are bound to get him more punishment. "Stop, stop, stop, don't hit me, please stop."


The slaps are now raining on his ass. "I. Said. To. Come," Steve enunciates slowly, emphasizing each word with another blow to the exact same spot. All Tony wants is never to be touched right there again. All Tony wants is more smacks right there, to burn his flesh off, to destroy him.


Steve squeezes his abused ass cheek hard and Tony falls over the edge into blissful suffering. Everything below waist is an ocean of agony, and he is surfing it. His prostate is an inflamed, angry little star inside him, a punishment on its on by virtue of its existence. His cock is assaulted by waves of pain as if someone has stuffed a cactus into it. It's twitching and dry-heaving, trying desperately to ejaculate something that isn't there. The orgasm scrubs him dry from inside out. He can't stand it and it won't end.


Tony can't stop crying. Tears are streaming down his cheeks freely. He doesn't even care.


"Chin up, soldier" Steve says in a bright voice, while the violent shivers are finally dying down. "That's only four."

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Tony knows he should be on the verge of passing out, but he isn't. His head is empty of all thought, but his senses are abnormally alert. Every inch of his body is drenched in sweat, but he can't be sure if he's hot or cold. He's both. Cruelly taped behind his back, his arms are going numb, his shoulder muscles are icy agony. He's hyper aware of every millimeter of the dildo up his ass, sending shivers through his internal organs. It's on low vibrations now.


Steve gives him more water, and then he's behind him, and Tony hears the familiar snap of plastic: a bottle of lube being uncapped.


"Steve? What are you doing?" Tony can't keep the hope out of his voice, because maybe this means Steve would take him of the sybian. He has to, if he wants to lube him up, right? And whatever he means to do after that, maybe Tony can beg and plead and mellow him down. Or, if nothing else, he'd be out of this damn position, he'd be able to stretch his legs. Maybe Steve will untape his arms too, and whatever torment comes afterwards might be just worth that.


Steve's fingers dig into his ass cheek and he lifts Tony's ass unceremoniously up an inch or two against the dildo. Tony feels cool, slick fingers digging into the maltreated rim of his hole. And then, with a sharp cry from Tony, one of them is in, right beside the dildo. Or maybe it's two. Tony has no way of telling.


The fingers aren't even deliberately cruel. The stretch itself is enough to make nausea rise in Tony's belly, however. The fingertips are massaging more and more lube into his inner walls. The lube is cool and soothing, but the fingertips forcing their way between the dildo and his membrane are assaulting his overstimulated nerve endings. He tries to breathe through it, a weepy breath chasing weepy breath.


All of a sudden he knows what Steve is about to do, remembers the special programming he'd tried for the sybian, a long time ago. He told Steve about it. Of course Steve will remember.


"Get me off of this thing and fuck me," Tony begs pathetically, because anything is better than what's going to happen next. If nothing else, Steve's cock in his ass would feel like torture, but it would be warm and alive and it would be Steve, not this stiff, artificial thing. "Fuck me as rough as you can," he begs on. He tries to make it enticing for Steve, and he knows Steve's moods well. "You've no idea how much it would hurt," he tempts him. "Just you pushing in would be unbearable. Like you're skinning me from the inside. And I'd beg you to stop, and you wouldn't, and you could hold me down and do whatever you wanted..."


On cue, Tony feels Steve rub himself against Tony's leg again, and he hopes.


"I will," Steve says, breathless. "I will toss you on the bed and punish you with my cock for as long as I want to. Make you cry for me. But.. later."


The fingers pull out of his ass – a temporary relief – and Steve is in front of him. He gets the controller out of his pocket and smirks at Tony. Then he pulls the small, additional lever on the side.


The pain in Tony's ass is blunt and brutal. The dildo is attached to the sybian via a base, slightly elevated from the saddle itself. Now the base is squished down, the dildo pulls down, and then it fucks straight up, into Tony's ass, in a penetrative motion, like a fucking machine. The thing can't move more than an inch and a half either up or down. Tony knows that. Still, in his innards, it feels like yards of searing pain, despite the lube. If the dildo wasn't this big, if his ass wasn't this overused, maybe... But this way it's fresh agony.


An anguished cry tears from Tony's throat, it's primal and animalistic. Steve unzips his own fly and takes his cock in his hand. He has that special, dark look in his eyes.


Being staked through the gut must feel just like this. Unhurriedly, the dildo pulls back down, then stabs up again like a blade. "Take me off, take me off, take me off this shit, Steve, stop it, stop this!" Tony isn't in control of his words, he doesn't know what he's saying.


Steve starts stroking himself lazily, dragging two fingers up and down his shaft like he has all the time in the world to enjoy the show.


"Good god, Steve, I can't, let me down, I can't!" Tony is yelling desperately as the dildo tears into him again and again, unstoppable. Steve just licks his lips and goes on teasing himself, stroking himself ever so slowly.


A sob escapes from Tony's mouth. "Fuck you," he whispers vehemently. He pushes up, desperately, straightening his knees. Even the little relief he gains that way feels like a bliss. Just the fact that dildo isn't going as deep makes it a little easier.


Then, just as the dildo is coming up again, Tony's knees give out and he slams back down uncontrollably, betrayed by gravity. Like a hammer and an anvil meeting in his gut. Like mortar and pestle.


But as he impales himself on it in full force, with a wretched howl, the dildo touches something in his ass that's even deeper, something that was previously untouched. A sharp bite of pleasure catches him completely unawares. It disappears lightning-fast, and he wonders if it was even there. And yet, an echo of it is still somewhere up there, where the dildo drilling his ass can't reach.


That echo of pleasure is all Tony can think about because everything else in the world is pain.


He makes his knees lift his body again and crashes down just as the dildo is coming up, despite the stab of searing agony. There it is again, the lightning bolt of pleasure, something that he can cling to in order to get through this torture.


Tears are streaming down his face freely, and sobs are shaking his body. Sobs of humiliation and disgust at himself and sobs of too much: too much pain, too much exertion, too much everything. Too much sensation racking his poor body.


Up, and then down, Tony goes again, pushing up with his legs and falling back onto the saddle, looking for the sweet stab of relief. He starts crying ever harder.


"That's right, Tony, fuck the dildo, fuck it harder," Steve is whispering hoarsely, stroking himself in time with Tony's sobs.


With a newfound, desperate strength, Tony is pushing himself up, as high as he can, then letting himself slam right down to meet the dildo. Every upward movement is accompanied by a gulp of breath, every plunge on the dildo with a loud, wet, heaving sob. He doesn't even care any more. Doesn't care how much it hurts if he can get that second of sweet relief.


Then, with a soft growl, Steve ups the pace of the machine.


Tony is jumping and bouncing on the sybian, wailing open-mouthed, his eyes and nose running freely. He's chasing the sparks of pleasure through the waves of incredible pain. Faster now. With a crazy defiance, he won't let himself stop even though his whole body is shaking and shivering, and each time it's more difficult to push himself up. Each time he crashes down harder. The base of the dildo is hitting his perineum like a fist on every go. His balls are a quivery mass of misery, but he goes on and on, because if he stopped, there would be just pain and nothing else.


He's vaguely aware of Steve, close now, with an expression of dark, cruel lust on his face. He's drinking in the anguish on Tony's face, the convulsions of Tony's body. Then, with one last stroke, he comes all over Tony's leg.


He scoops his own come with his fingers and slaps Tony across the face, hard.


Tony's orgasm is instantaneous and violent. It tears through his body bringing no pleasure whatsoever. His knees finally give way, and he stays impaled on the dildo. It's like a pneumatic drill in his gut. He sways. If Steve weren't holding him up, he'd tilt to the side as far as the duct tape let him. He doesn't know if he even had an erection, he just knows it feels like he is trying to force shards of glass through his dick, but they insist on staying, lodged in his tissue. The orgasm completely dry. He doesn't think he'll want to come ever again.


The dildo stops. It's back to the gentle vibrations, but Tony doesn't care any longer. He's a limp bag of bones, tilting forward, leaning into Steve's arms.


He thinks he falls asleep for a time. What brings him back is sharp pain in his legs as Steve rips off the duct tape. Tony doesn't care about the pain at all. He can finally straighten his knees, stretch his legs, and it's pure bliss. Steve removes the tape from his arms next and Tony weeps gratefully even though he lacks even the energy to roll his shoulders. All the while, Steve is carefully holding him up so that Tony wouldn't slump to the side.


Now he's in front of Tony again, an Tony slumps against his shoulder. He feels completely boneless, the only firm thing in him is the dildo , still mercilessly stiff in his ass.


"Thank you, baby," Tony whispers against the warm skin of Steve's neck. "Thank you, thank you," he keeps saying, even though he doesn't know what he's thanking him for. For the contact, maybe. For the fact that the torment is not so horrible any longer. The pain has overwhelmed him, and then died down to a buzz in the back of his head, because a person can take only so much. "Let me down, now," he goes on, semi-aware. "Please, please, please let me down." His voice is a barest murmur.


"I will," Steve responds soothingly, running soft hands up and down Tony's torso. "I will. Soon. But we're not done here yet." And he ups the vibrations just a notch.


Tony's cock is a flaccid dead thing. Steve takes it in his hand and squeezes. The abuse makes Tony want to weep, but he can't any more. Still slumped against Steve's body, he bites the blond on the shoulder with all the savageness he has left, but that's very little.


"Like that, is it?" Steve laughs and starts tugging at Tony's soft cock rhythmically.


His dick is a wretched pile of suffering, and Tony wants to tell Steve 'that won't get you anywhere'. But each tug is a new stab of spongy pain down there and insofar isn't pointless. Tony hangs on the dildo and does nothing. There's nothing he can do.


He'd think he'd be all numb by now, but he isn't. The vibrations against his sore, swollen prostate are soft and painfully seductive. Steve is jerking his cock more vigorously now. The throbbing in it is excruciating, but it's still a reaction. Tony feels something build, in the distance, and he wants to cry, to beg, but he can't.


Time goes on, but Tony doesn't know how much.


The orgasm doesn't hit him, doesn't shake or jar him. There are no convulsions, down there. Just one single spasm that goes on and on and won't let up. It's like someone stuck an ice-pick down his dick and keeps twisting it. The sensation that is horribly reminiscent of pleasure but has nothing to do with it won't stop. It just extends, going on and on, becoming more and more intense, until everything goes black and Tony doesn't know anything any more.


He comes to, face down on the bed. Buried in a pillow, his nostrils are full of the scent he associates with Steve, new laundry and starch, because Steve doesn't like silk sheets. His whole body aches, but everything is soft around the edges and the ache is distant.


Next, he is aware of something cool dripping into in his ass, fingers in his hole. How many? Two, three? He can't tell, but he knows he must be all stretched out after tonight. All used up. His muscles feel lax. He doesn't think he would be able to clench them even if he wanted to. The fingers are very gentle, rubbing something cold, soothing into his inner walls. It hurts a little, it does, but he thinks it must be Steve rubbing in some soothing cream to make him feel better.


"Thanks, babe," he whispers into the pillow. He's on the tip of falling back asleep when the fingers are retracted. It's a relief. But then he feels something blunt prodding at his rim, and in an instant it's being pushed in.


He can't be as stretched as he thought, because it burns.


"Steve, no, no," he whispers desperately. The cock shoves a couple more inches in, and Tony feels Steve's weight descend upon him. Holding Tony's back down, pressing him into the mattress, Steve pushes deeper.


Tony's cock is crushed under his body, but compared to the agony in his ass, it feels like nothing. His inner walls are so raw and abused by now that every tiny motion of Steve's cock feels like some kind of retribution. Steve is not rough, for once, but it doesn't matter


Steve's thick shaft fills him whole. Tony would think there's nothing left to stretch in there, but he's stretching him wider. And then he starts pulling out, tugging and dragging the tender membranes after him. It feels like he's turning Tony inside-out, like a sock. Tony finds his voice in a gurgly yelp.


Steve is out all the way. Tony can feel his hole breathe and wink, empty for a moment. Then Steve pushes back in. Slowly but unstoppably.


"Steve, no, don't, stop," Tony manages to say before he's all the way in, and he's pulling out at once, all the way. "I can't come any more," Tony pleads. "There's nothing left." Steve squeezes Tony's bruised left ass cheek and shoves back in. "I have nothing left to give," Tony sniffs miserably. "Please let me go. Please, I can't, I can't. Stop. No."


Steve does pull out then, and for a moment it seems as if he'll indeed stop. And then a smack lands on Tony's right ass cheek. It vibrates through his whole body. Then another, and another. They are hard. Steve has no mercy at all.


"What did I say about 'no' and 'stop', Tony?" he pants. He sounds beyond turned on, beyond wild.


"I'm... not... allowed," Tony whimpers between the blows.


"That's right," Steve bites off, as he pulls Tony's hips up. Tony's knees are tucked under him, but he doubts they could hold him up.


"I can't come," Tony tries one last time.


It's Steve's hands that actually keep him in place. He tucks one forearm under Tony's belly, to hold him up. He positions himself against Tony's entrance. Then he slams in, and Tony screams.


"No one said all ten orgasms had to be yours," Steve growls.


He starts fucking Tony in earnest, then, and now he is rough. His hips are snapping forward carelessly hard.


"Hurts, hurts, hurts," Tony wails with each violent thrust.


"It's supposed to," Steve pants, pistoning in and out. "That's why... it's called... punishment."


A hand at the back of Tony's neck is pressing his face into the pillow, probably to shut him up. He can't breathe, he can't breathe. His consciousness tunes out. Maybe he falls asleep. He doesn't know. He comes to at some point, now flat on the mattress, still face down, and Steve is pounding and pounding and pounding into him.


Steve starts coming. Tony's inner walls are scraped so raw by now that cum feels like acid in his ass. It burns and scorches, and Steve is still fucking him, the last few throes of pleasure. Then he pulls out and collapses by Tony's side


Tony falls deeply asleep then, and is awoken by cool touch of water on his brow, his cheeks. He's on his back now. He glances at the clock and sees he's been allowed barely 10 minutes of rest, and he start crying from sheer exhaustion. His sobs are hiccupy and pathetic. All he wants to do is sleep, just for a bit.


"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Steve is whispering in his ear. "I'm going to fuck you so bad, like you've never been fucked in your life. I'm going to fuck you all I want, and you are going to take it."


Tony is fuzzy and tearful. He can't properly think beyond his need for sleep. Safe word, is a thought that cross his mind, but it's fleeting. In an instant it's away, too elusive to catch. He can't remember.


Steve is running his hands all over Tony's body, now. More an assertion of ownership than a caress. 'I'm going to fuck you so bad,' rings in Tony's head again and again as Steve paws at him, spreading his thighs, toying with his balls.


Somehow he gathers his thoughts for one articulate sentence. "Please fuck my mouth," he chokes out. "Not my ass. I can't stand it, I can't. My face, my mouth."


Steve looks at him, suddenly contemplative.


"All right..." he hesitates, and comes to a decision. His eyes glint down at Tony. "Get down on your knees and beg me. Nicely. On your knees, on the floor."


Beg. That's something that penetrates Tony's hazy mind. He can work with that. He rolls over and tries to crawl towards the edge of the bed. If he could just get down on the floor... But every movement is torture. His body just wants to sleep. Halfway there, he collapses, only for an instant, only to rest for a while before...


Steve grabs him by an ankle and pulls him all the way back. "Too late, Tony," he pronounces. "Missed the window."


Tony is sprawled on his side, his limbs splayed around him. Steve pushes the leg up at an awkward angle. His fingers are in Tony's ass, stretching it again – three of them? Four? He rotates them inside for a moment. "You're still slick enough, no need for more lube," he decides. The fingers are out and the cockhead is in. He forces it all the way in and starts fucking Tony's hole vigorously.


He's not fucking me, Tony thinks hazily. Just my hole. It's as if no other part of Tony exists.


Steve is leaning against the leg as if he's going to split Tony's crotch apart. Then he bends Tony's leg at the knee, shoving it forward, onto the brunette's chest and pushing the other leg backwards. He's making the hole tighter for himself, Tony realizes.


Inside, everything is rubbed raw, tender, frayed to the max. Steve's cock is grating against his inner walls, but Tony can barely register it any more.


He winks in and out of consciousness. One time he comes to, he's gathered into a pile of misery in the middle of the bed, his ass sticking in the air. Steve is fucking down into him at an awkward angle and it's racking Tony apart. Then Steve starts simply pulling him onto his cock instead, like a rag doll, and Tony passes out. Next time he's aware, he's on his back, his feet around his ears for the maximum tightening of his entrance, and Steve is scraping his insides with long, utterly careless thrusts. Another time, Steve is lying on his back. Tony is sprawled over him, sideways, also on his back. He is impaled on Steve's cock that feels like hot steel inside him. At a leisurely pace, Steve is moving Tony's midsection up and down, up and down, using him like a flashlight, jerking himself off.


Tony isn't aware of Steve finishing, but he can feel the burning of new cum in his hurt hole before he falls back asleep.


Steve wakes him up with two curt, practical slaps in the face. With a glance at the clock, Tony sees he's been allowed 45 minutes of sleep this time around. He is just rested enough to be able to feel pain again – distinct and precisely inflicted. "You're going to like this one," Steve promises darkly. "You're going to like it so much."


The last fuck was all for Steve. Tony was nothing more than a necessary object on the receiving end. This time around, Steve seems entirely focused on him. He's pushing fingers deep into Tony's mouth to make him gag and cough and splutter. He slaps Tony's tits for many long minutes, first playfully and then harder and harder, until Ton is bathed in sweat again, until his chest is burning, until his nipples are puffy and so sore Tony tries to wriggle away desperately. Until his eyes are bleary with tears once again. Then, Steve tweaks one nubbin with his thumbnail and forefinger almost gently, but the other nipple he takes in his mouth and chews on it, hard, until Tony screams obligingly.


He rolls Tony on his stomach and kneads his bruised ass cheeks harshly, digging fingers in, pulling them apart. If nothing else, Tony's body is fully awake again and he is aware of every second of torment.


Impossibly, he feels a faint stirring in his cock, and his only lucid thought is 'oh, no.'


He feels Steve pull his asshole open with a thumb and two fingers, trickling a copious amount of lube directly in. Since no more prep is probably necessary, he massages Tony's entrance with his cockhead for a few excruciating moments, and then takes possession of him all in one go. Tony's insides are back to being a fiery agony, but Steve isn't in a hurry any longer. He fucks him slowly, paying his special attentions to other parts of Tony's body. He wraps his fingers about Tony's throat choking him until Tony gags. He pulls Tony's head back painfully by his hair as he fucks him. He takes time to suck bruises into the skin of Tony's shoulders. And always, always, he ends up tucking his hands under Tony's breasts and pinching, squeezing, twisting until a new batch of tears falls from Tony's eyes.


Through all this, Tony is sorely aware of his own cock. It felt nearly dead, but now it's coming alive. It's squished painfully under Tony's body, and every time Steve's weight comes down on him with each new thrust, Tony's cock is squeezed, pinched against the mattress. And it's a fraction closer to actual hardness.


Tony remembers how much the last orgasms hurt and wants to stop this, but he's powerless. He uses Steve's upward motion to squirm forward and free his cock from under his body. It's down between his thighs now. Tony breaths out in relief.


Steve reaches down and tucks it back under Tony's body. Then he comes down on his ass especially hard, grinding down, grinding him into the sheets.


Tony lets a sob escape him, and now Steve is concentrating all his efforts on crushing Tony's cock into the mattress under him. Although it's still only semi-erect, every splash of pain makes it harder. There's nothing Tony can do. He's lucid enough to use the safe word now, but with his cock coming alive, he both wants and doesn't want to. Just a minute longer, he thinks, and hates himself for it.


Steve stops for a moment. He grabs Tony by the balls and pulls up. Tony is frantically scrambling to follow the motion, trying to get his knees under him. Steve doesn't let him, though. His hand is now on Tony's cock, tight like a vice, pulling him back down, and Tony doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't understand. He just knows it hurts and knows Steve can feel that he's nearly hard again and he knows Steve is going to use it.


Steve shoves back into him, hard, and starts rubbing Tony's dickhead into the rough, starchy cloth of the sheets. It's searing torture, and it's sudden. An unexpected orgasm racks Tony's body, making him fall apart completely. He can't stop shaking. His cock is dry-heaving again because there's still no jizz there, and all the while Steve keeps rubbing the cock against the cloth relentlessly, setting the spongy head afire.


After this, Tony is just a limp mess of overused nerves. He sobs quietly as Steve rolls him on the side, spoons him and continues fucking him until he's finished, some time later. He doesn't pull out. He stays in there, a large, irritating bulge in Tony's sore ass. He always takes ages to go soft. He's pressed against Tony's back, his presence finally warm and soothing. His left arm is thrown over Tony casually, but his palm is firmly resting on Tony's cock, inflicting that last bit of pain by mere touch against the inflamed skin. His butt plugged and full of come, his cock still throbbing in Steve's hand, Tony feels completely in Steve's possession, completely owned. This is not a bad feeling at all. He is drifting off to sleep when a horrifying thought crosses his mind.


"Steve?" he whispers. "Is that ten?"


"That's nine," Steve whispers back.


Tony shudders, wanting to protest, but Steve holds him tight. "Shhh," he says. "Don't think. Sleep now. That's for tomorrow." He pauses, nuzzling into Tony's hair. "Maybe I'll bring out the whip, have a little fun. What do you say? I could make you beg for my cock, in the end. On your knees."


With this ominous promise, Tony falls asleep.

the end.