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A loud whistle blew through the house, melodic and irritating in nature.
At first, he swatted at the noise, grumbling as he rolled over, trying to ignore its disturbance in his dreams.
Then, it rang again, and a familiarity hit him.
The doorbell.
It was here!
Stumbling and fumbling as he hurried from the bed, Tord ran his hands against everything he could to keep him up.
He cursed and shouted as he bounced upon one leg, shoving his pants' leg over the other.
The doorbell rang again.
He shouted back this time.
"Just - nngh! Come on!-- Just a minute!"
His breath was lost on him as he popped an arm through the stained white shirt.
He watched as the poor mailman nearly jumped out of his skin at the speed of which he opened the door.
Tord, feeling and looking feral in nature, ripped the package out of his hands and turned.
He was interrupted by a cough.
His gray eyes squinted at the paper.
It was some.. stupid document. Assuring that he got it and wasn't doing illegal shit with it and blah, blah, blah..
He didn't have time for this.
With a loud groan, he took the pen and signed it before slamming the door.
With one hand curled around the cardboard and the other holding up his pants, he wobbled as fast as he could back to his room.
The poor box was immediately thrown onto his desk as he abandoned it to instead peer out the window.
Edd and Matt's bikes were gone.. good.
Toms was, as always, propped up against the side of the house - simply forgotten by the local drunk.
His squinted eyes watched as the white van purred to life and began to pull away.
He watched until it disappeared between the houses that wrapped around the neighborhood.
Only then was he satisfied.
With the utmost excitement, he pulled the box closer. With one hand, he searched the desk for a thin, black handle. The silver blade that flicked out was promptly inserted into inflated brown cardboard. Air hissed as he punctured the layers of plastic covering it.
The shell of the packaging was tossed to the side and promptly forgotten as he searched, with big and concentrated eyes, through each and every layer of bubble wrap and lining.
Buried inside it all, comfortable in its nest, were two small cylinders.
He held them up to the light.
Their aluminum foil-covered glinted against the light, but it tore so easily against Tords prying nails and revealed, at just the right angle, he could see the yellow-ish green liquid that filled a chamber full of wires, barely encapsulated in the oh, so thin metal casing.
Reaching to his side, his thin fingers tugged open a drawer, and he fished out of it a thick disc.
It held many manufacturing seams, small little pauses in the thick, blue silicone skin.
He turned it over in his hands, smoothing his fingers over it, cylinders tucked against his palm, trapped by his thumb.
He felt it over until his two fingers dug into something, a hidden compartment.
It slid open, fast, and revealed a battery case.
Carefully, he slipped in the two batteries.
The disc popped and clicked, jumping against his palm as he held it aloft.
Gently, he cleared a space on his desk and sat it down..
Now, he stared at it, both in marvel and slight fear- both hands pressed together into a fist against his mouth.
Wide, gray eyes studied it as he pulsed and purred, twisting and curling with such fluidity he had yet to see in a robot.
It was a small contraption, only about ten inches tall, with a heavily puffed base and an even bigger, flared cut-off, pressed against the table.
It was dark blue and ridged along the sides, with a small tail of a head.
Plain and simple, it was a tentacle.
A tentacle dildo.
One that Tord himself had created.
One with a thick knot and an easy-to-grab handle.
One that vibrated and moved.
One that.. Tord would have to.. Test.
He slid it over in his hands. It thumped against his palm and spilled slick lube down his wrists.
It made his stomach churn as he pictured how it might.. feel.
He ran his hand over the bump. It felt too large for even his fist, much less his..
Teeth bit pink lips as pants were quickly abandoned.
His mind wandered to his roommates-- what they would think if they caught him like this.. but..
It was fine.
Edd and Matt were clearly out and.. Tom was. Asleep, more than likely.
As he wondered how it would fit, as he kicked off his underwear, he also wondered.. was it.. even possible?
He had never.. done anything like this before.
Of course, he's prepared for this moment but- nothing of this size and girth..
He hadn't anticipated how large it would actually be.
Holding it in his hands was.. such a different venture than when he first built it. Only just now was he noticing that he had to hold it with both hands at the knot.
He swallowed.
Never before had he been so curious.
Warming himself was nothing by now.
He had been doing it for these past couple of weeks, whenever he could, and it had become so easy to slip those three fingers in.
He didn't even feel any pain that came with the stretching as he spread them.
He stifled himself with a pillow, still, as he fingered himself.
Concentrating on pushing them in and out and in and out-- flexing them as hard as he could to stretch himself open. He felt the cold nip at his insides as his legs fell open.
When the pleasure had begun to get dull, he stopped.
Pulling those fingers out was the hardest thing, as he knew next that his invention would be next.
He couldn't chicken out now.
Months it had been, designing this thing.
Literal chunks of his life gone, to constructing prototype after prototype of this thing.
He physically could not chicken out now.
The bulbous handle felt nice against his hands.
The soft vibrations pulsed into his tired muscles.
As he felt the small head poke at his entrance, a small squeak came out.
The way it.. squirmed, between his thighs.. it was intoxicating.
His free hand gripped tighter the black, canvas hoodie he had on.
He had to.. he couldn't..
He urged himself to push in.
Wrist coaxing it in, inch by inch, he squirmed and twitched.
At first, it was thin- barely the size of his fingers- but it got bigger, and quickly too.
It grew far too fast and soon, he felt the stretch begin to pinch.
He let go of a breath he was holding and gulped in as much air as he could.
Already, he felt his body hot with shame.
He wasn't.. he was barely even on it. He couldn't stop now.
With a grunt, he pushed it in farther and farther.
The pain soon began to build, and by the time it finally stopped, he was panting, with wet and blurry eyes.
The cheerful chirping of the birds outside was like some fucking joke.
Did they not know Tord was suffering?
He didn't know how he'd get through the next part.
Already he felt uncomfortably full, the sleek silicone skin pressing against all his walls, filling him to the brim and more.
Already, he was in pain.
The stretch was more than he could bear and far more than he had ever dared to try.
And, better yet, the tentacle wasn't working.
It wasn't moving, or vibrating- it had gone stock still.
But if he pulled out now-- he knew he'd never be able to do it.
He knew that if he pulled it out of him, he'd never have the guts to try it again.
It was as if the toy was mocking him.
Standing so rigid, so still, like it knew he was struggling.
God, he was a failure.
But as disappointing as this was.. he knew he could still have fun.
He didn't even have to take the knot-- he was already as deep as he could go, why not just.. feel good?
So, gingerly, after he had felt the pain ebb to near nothing, he began to roll his wrist.
Each one was small, but enough to make him whimper.
He buried his face into his hoodie, arm and stomach pressed so uncomfortably to the bed.
When he got into a rhythm, he began to shiver.
Maybe it was already getting to him, but he couldn't stop then- he had to see himself to the end at the very least.
The more and more his movements grew, the riskier he became.
Throwing his hand back and forth, trying to force it to probe deeper and deeper into him.
He moaned at every new stretch and turn, and mewled at ever far-reaching thrust.
The hard girth pressed against his stomach as he fucked it into himself, in each turn, gasping at every sharp pain and roaring pleasure that would shoot up his body.
With one fumbled thrust, there was a sharp, white pain and a pop, as the full knot slipped into his body.
Suddenly, he felt so much fuller and whined as he took in a jerking breath.
And in just seconds, the toy sprang to life.
It clicked as it began wriggling inside of him, a surprised mewl coming from him.
It was a pleasant surprise, the nice, calm squirming of the toy. It massaged his worn walls, lovingly caressing every part of him as it purred, sending such hard vibrations that it made his thighs quake.
Already, he felt the pressure of his release building up.
His legs, pressed together so tight, contained by his boxers still tied around his knees, shook and trembled as he moaned in pleasure and relief.
His now free hand patted against his stomach, sliding down to grab and squeeze at his weeping cock.
He thrusted hard against his hand and the pillow trapped between his thighs, fucking into it as he toy ground against him on its own.
Still holding the hoodie to his mouth, his muffled cries of pleasure didn't reach far.
Then, there was a hard click.
He felt the device jolt to a stop, the purring vibrations slowly lowering and lowering until the whole device stopped again.
He was left.. baffled.
An odd, uncomfortable ebbing of pain emanated from inside.
He groaned, nose curling before he plunged his face into the soft fabric of his bed. Slowly, he pushed up, abandoning his painful boner to instead help him flip over onto his back.
His sleeves slipped around his fingers as he tried to grab at it, sliding his fingers calmly around the base as he cursed.
There was a flash of white as he hit the bed.
And suddenly, the purring from before was now a roar.
It had started up again, but at full force- thrusting inside of him with everything it had, the vibrations so hard he felt it beat against his skull.
His back arched off the bed as a crude moan ripped its way from his throat.
He babbled and gasped, hands slapping over his mouth as another mewl echoed through his room.
The pressure built harder and harder, the toy continuing to fuck him until he was fucking sobbing.
Until it snapped.
Hot cum shot across his stomach and chest, hips lifting into the air as pleasure burned hot in his gut.
For a few seconds, everything was numb.
Everything tingled and all he could feel were the dull vibrations still ongoing inside him.
Then it all came back fast. Far too fast.
Soon, he sounded like a whore.
Crying and sobbing and moaning like a fucking bitch as it continued to pound into him.
Pushing and stretching him, bobbing him along the knot, and filling him with every ounce he could.
It was too much.
Tears streamed down his face, mouth stuck open as he moaned.
He tried to think- urged his brain to form for just a couple of seconds for him to think.
After another particularly bad thrust, it clicked.
The safeword!
He had, instead of building a power switch, installed a miniature microphone that hid underneath the first layer of skin.
If you spoke your safeword, it would pick it up and shut down.
But-- Fuck!!
He hadn't set a safeword!
Wracking his brain for the answer, he began to scream out every word he could, writhing on the bed to try and get comfortable.
He pressed his knees to his chest and rolled over onto his side, trying to hide his face in his arms.
"F-Fuck! S-Stop!--"
Another moan ripped from his stomach as it twisted inside him.
"N-No! Stop! Helvete!--"
His voice grew desperate.
It cracked as the pressure in his stomach began to turn him sick.
It hurt so bad, and he felt the pain run through his cock, desperately straining itself up so quickly after release.
He couldn't hear anything over the pounding of his heart and the buzzing of the machine.
He was drowning everything out with his own shouts and cries to stop, gasping and begging the machine to Stop.
The volume built higher and higher until he was borderline screaming, deep, throaty moans spilling out of him like liquid, only partially sheltered by his arm, wrapped around his head, gripping at his hair.
Then, he heard the pounding.
It was all still so dull for a moment. He thought they had sounded familiar, but when the recognition clicked into place, panic began to ensue.
Footsteps.
Heavy, running footsteps.
He shouted, scrambling to cover himself as the door swung open.
A bedraggled Tom standing there, in clothes half thrown on and wide, scared eyes.
He was panting hard and as he wandered inside, shouting questions at him-- why was he screaming, was he okay, what was going on--
Tord found himself with a bubble in his throat.
Trying to hold down his hoodie with one hand and the other outstretched as he stuttered and tried to stop him- that bubble popped.
An absolute whoreish moan flew through him as the toy jerked against a particularly sensitive spot.
He pushed his back into the bed, Gasping and spluttering, fists ramming against his eyes, hips bucking off the bed.
He had forgotten everyone and everything, shouting and crying with pleasure and lust, leaving Tom to stand there, red and clueless as he watched Tords hips buck so desperately and his cock twitching so hard against his stomach.
Soon, he was sobbing again.
As the toy jerked and pushed against that one spot, pleasure wracking his body thrust after thrust, he felt Tom slowly get on the bed and approach.
When he felt strong arms pick him up, what else was he to do but cling to them?
Whining so desperately, thighs twisted and pressed tight together, trapping his balls and cock to squirt against the bed.
It was such a pitiful look for him.
To look so.. fuckable. With his lips red as he opened them wide, spit clinging to his arm as he cried against it, eyes shut so tight, crying so hard.
His body squeezed and tightened at every turn. At every second, he was moaning. Gasping and blubbering, still crying for it to stop.
Then, at a hushing voice, he gasped and whined.
"T-Thomas!"
He exclaimed, feeling the shiver that went through his larger body.
His fingers grabbed at his clothes and his shaking legs slowly made their way underneath him.
He felt Tom strain in his pants as Tord clambered on top, face pressed into his neck, still moaning.
Large, warm hands rubbed against his back as his legs tightened around sharp hips.
A hushed, cooling voice whispered into his ear.
"How do I turn it off?"
Tord shivered in response and muttered his name softly.
Another shiver from Tom as he cradled him so sweetly.
There was a swallow.
Hesitantly, the voice came again,
"Tord,"
The voice was stern. Hearing his name on his lips made him mewl in pleasure.
"How do I turn this off?"
Finally, did the gears spin to life.
"T-The bat-Batteries--"
He spluttered, arms clinging to tight around his neck.
Another whorish moan.
"T-Take out the- Ah! --"
The device began to thrash violently like it knew of Tords plans.
He felt the pain build in between his thighs.
Tord also felt as one of the hands went lower and slipped further down, past his mid back and dipping below his rear.
At the first instance of Tom pushing against the device, another surge of pleasure wracked his body as the shaft rammed against that one spot again.
His hands clutched tight to the back of his collar.
He felt Tom's breath heavy against his neck, and he felt him swallow at each call of his name.
His prodding fingers pressed hard against the bottom and Tord cried as he felt it cram deeper into him.
He didn't think it was possible to take in the flared base, but very obviously as it crested his insides and shot bolt after bolt of pain- he was dead wrong.
He gasped, crying and shouting, clinging to Tom so desperately as he wet his shoulder.
"T-Tom--! S-Stop- it, ah, it hurts-"
A cool voice spoke in response.
"I know, I know."
The fingers didn't stop.
They pushed and pushed, so desperately trying to find the slot.
Tord cried louder and harder, moaning out his name now with reckless abandon.
He felt the veins on his shaft strain as he gasped, feeling the toy cram in deeper and deeper- to a place he didn't know could be reached.
Until it popped.
All at once, he was filled to bursting, spilling himself all over the large body that held him, crying out so needingly for him.
And within seconds, he felt it die.
Whirring to a stop, as Tom fumbled with the overheated batteries.
He heard them clunk against the floor before the black spots in his vision became too big to ignore.
He felt strong hands pull him up and grab him, and when he came to, moments later, he was situated on Tom's lap.
He felt a hardness prodding against his back, but, better yet, he felt that hand from before, now gently catching the edge of the toy that had slipped out.
He felt pleasure and relief all at once as it all slid out of him, gasping in euphoria as the uncomfortably hot, stuffy feeling left him.
He shuddered in his arms, still moaning weakly against his chest, as he felt the warm slick that coated the device now dripped from the swollen red entrance.
Tord gasped and whimpered for Tom as the unexpected emptiness filled him.
Tord lay silent there for a long few minutes, twitching and shaking against Tom as he held him, hushing him and soothing him.
But when Tom had rolled him over.. the last thing he expected was the warmth that covered his wet lips.
But he didn't even stop to think about it before he kissed back, muttering quietly in Norwegian as Tom ate him whole, hands running along every part of his body.
It soothed all his sore muscles and urged him to relax- to melt- into his lap.
And he did.
As he kissed Tom until they lost all breath, he completely melted.
He barely felt it when Tom laid him against the bed instead of his legs.
And he barely felt it as Tom spread his numbed legs, slotting himself in between them.
But he did feel it when he pushed in.
He felt it when he kissed his neck so gently and told him he was sorry.
He felt it when he began to thrust so slow and so gentle and he felt it when his hands massaged at his sides and hips.
Weak, tingling fingers brushed against scruffy facial hair as they stared into eachothers eyes.
One pair far, far more sunken than the other.
And Tord kissed him, as he felt him push against places the toy had once before.
He moaned and mewled for him, but with cracks this time, and held him in his arms, running nails down his back.
And as Tom lay over him, gasping against his collarbone, apologizing to him like it were a prayer, Tord moaned for him.
He spoke his name, and this time, it meant something. It meant he needed him, better yet, it meant more than just sex.
And as Tom pounded inside him, he was nowhere near as skillful as the toy-- and that was the best part.
It was sloppy and dirty and messy and-- fuck.
Tord gasped out and moaned for him.
Toms thrusts redirected into that one spot, that one spot that had already been abused thoroughly--
And Tord was soon cumming again, screaming his name as he shot cum across his chest for the second time today.
His screams died out against Tom's lips, which had enveloped his.
They kissed.
They kissed so passionately and so fiercely that when Tom pulled away, he was groaning for more.
And as Tord begged for him, gasping for him to fuck him, to fill him- to use him- Tom came.
He thrusted in deep and spilled everything he had into Tord. Pumping him full until he was crying again, begging for him.
And then he started again. Fucking into him with a renewed vigor as Tord cried for him, tears wetting the bed with every drop.
Their hot, sweaty bodies collided against each other hour after hour, and soon it all faded into white noise and deep, heavy sleep.
When Tord woke up, it was in his arms.
He was holding Tord so close and so tight, that it had become hard to breathe.
He forced himself up and off Tom's sleeping body, head spinning as he sat up far too quickly.
He was reminded, to his dismay, of their ventures in the form of several stinging bruises and the horrible pain that accompanied his hips and, well.. general entire being.
Then he heard a yawn.
Slowly, Tom's arms stretched up and rubbed at his eyes.
When his mouth finally closed, he sat up, hollow eyes half lidded and focused on Tord.
When he opened his mouth to apologize, Tom caught him off.
"Tord,"
He scolded, brows furrowing.
Tord shut up quickly.
Then, with a sigh, he reached over and stroked Tords cheek. He felt it heat considerably under his touch.
"Are you okay?"
His voice was.. soft. Earnest.
He was worried.
".. J-Ja,"
Was his response, shy and equally as soft.
"Good."
They kissed then, and when they fell against the bed, Tom on top of him with Tords fingers in his hair, he knew that was all that needed to be said.