John’s Doom

The cylinder sucked John’s dick inside eagerly, but Lauren pressed a button to halt it just as it had fully enveloped his cock, latched on more firmly than a leech. The suction was totally unnecessary to maintain his erection, but “necessity” described absolutely nothing about any of his experiences after entering that damn costume shop.

Lauren let go of the cylinder and put her hands on her hips, drinking in the sight of John suspended in mid air, the milking machine latched firmly on his dick. Her eyes twinkled at John, who found himself being hoisted up from pegging height until his face was staring directly at her breasts, still cupped by that black latex bodysuit into even more impressive cleavage. Lauren buried John’s face into her breasts, one hand reaching out of view for something. John didn’t care that his view was obstructed. When Lauren did step back, John saw in her hands a blindfold made of latex.

“As nice as the view may be, I don’t want you getting distracted for this next bit darling~”

John stared at Lauren, fixing in his mind how sexy she looked, bunny costume and all, before the blindfold finally robbed him of the view. There was a click, and the machine sprang to life! Lauren withdrew far enough that John could no longer detect her presence. He tried to squirm a bit but the chains and cuffs that held him hogtied in the air were just as restrictive as ever. No other item could be sensed or touched except his bonds and the milking machine. John indeed had nothing to distract him from the experience of being mechanically milked.

The machine started off slow, gently stroking and sucking him. Even though it was hanging underneath him and had nothing supporting it, the device gripped him firmly, even at the far end of the stroke when only a small part of his cock was still enveloped. But every time it came back up, fully engulfing his member again. The machine kept up its slow strokes, never varying in rhythm, for some time.

The slow strokes continued for what felt to John like hours; without any other reference than the thumping of the milker his sense of time lost all reference. Minutes stretched to what most surely have been hours, with no change in the slow strokes. John knew with unexplained certainty that whatever magic had bewitched this room would no doubt ensure the machine didn’t wear out or break down even if it ran for 1000 years continuously.

Then it began to speed up.

John let out a long involuntary moan, and found himself bucking and thrusting his hips vainly to get it to speed up and fuck him harder. But the machine wasn’t a lover who would naturally respond to such gestures, it was indifferent to his plight and needs. The pace was increasing gradually but remained so far below what he needed to cum, assuming that whatever enchantment on the cock ring actually let him cum this time.

Earmuffs descended over John’s ears and cut off the sound of the milking machine. Without sight or sound he was just a man dangling in the void, nothing to distract him from the slow but steadily accelerating milking machine.