“Thirty-three … thirty-four … thirty-five … thirty-six …”

“Can I cum!? Can I cum!? Can I cum!?” Blaine begs. He continues his push-ups, performing for Kurt like an automaton even though his arms and legs feel just about ready to give out.

The sit-ups had been strenuous, that Aneros massager rubbing against Blaine’s prostate with the rocking of his body. Along with Kurt’s relentless teasing, Blaine’s orgasm had been intense. But Kurt takes the push-ups to the next level. He’d leapt on Blaine’s oversensitive cock before it could go flaccid and pumped it to capacity. Then he left it swollen inside its acrylic cylinder. The tip end of the cylinder Kurt attached to a sling, which he looped around Blaine’s neck to keep his cock from bouncing off the ground. Kurt wants to keep the pressure on; he doesn’t want to risk dislodging the thing or breaking it. It also encourages Blaine to keep his shoulders squared and his head up, lest the cylinder slag and knock against the floor.

The resulting vibrations would be agonizing to a cock that’s already on its way to turning purple.

After Kurt had opened Blaine up wide with the knobbed dildo, he replaced it with an equally large, cone-shaped plug called the Robo Rimmer. The thing vibrates, rotates, and throbs. (Kurt considers himself lucky to have gotten his hands on one. They’re constantly selling out.) The cone top assaults Blaine’s prostate while the knobbed neck violates his rim. It has a wireless remote control and twelve speed settings. Kurt sits back and simply pushes buttons at random without looking at the settings. At one point, he plays In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly using the revving noise the plug makes at different speeds.

That’s part of what’s prompted Blaine’s teeth clenching, neck straining pleas for mercy.

Kurt had considered giving Blaine his own cock to fuck, but Blaine has yet to earn that privilege. After all, he’s only on his second set of fifty. He’s got three more to go and he’s already looking worse for wear.

Poor, poor Blaine. Kurt’s been way too easy on him.

Besides, sitting back and watching this plug at work is too much fun.

“No, no, no.” Kurt tuts, switching the plug from low to high for a few seconds to give Blaine a taste of what true torture at the hands of this thing would actually feel like. “Ask properly.”

“Please, Sir …” Blaine shudders, the cylinder on his cock glancing off the floor when he bows his neck and lowers himself down too far “… c-can I cum?”

“Try again, pet.” Kurt slaps Blaine’s ass hard, then raises the vibrations on the plug another notch.

“Please, Sir!” Blaine wails, close to tears. “Can this filthy pet cum for you? Pleeeeeease!?”

“That’s better,” Kurt purrs, slowing the vibrations to a relaxing, pulsating throb. He tenderly fondles Blaine’s balls, pulled tight; runs the flat of his palm over Blaine’s hot and abused right cheek. He tugs the plug out an inch, then pushes it in, fucking Blaine gently for a few, soothing thrusts. Blaine trembles, his shoulders relax. He takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes. He arches his back when Kurt pushes in and twists, moaning with pleasure.

Blaine gets a little too comfortable, and Kurt’s not having it.

He slaps Blaine’s cheek sharply. “No you may not. Next set. Fifty more. And count them this time. My mouth’s getting dry.”

Kurt turns the plug up to full.

Blaine’s high-pitched keen sounds positively glorious to Kurt’s ears.

“O-one … t-two … th-three …”

Kurt stands and walks into the kitchen with the remote. He’s going to grab a bottle of water for his parched mouth. Then he’ll pull up a chair and kick it with his feet on Blaine’s back so he can enjoy this better.