[So those weren't the words Armando had been looking for. Ray already knew that. He also knew that a simple moment of politeness might have got him coming already rather than stuck with blue balls and frustration as he gets slammed into over and over. But this was all about enduring, lasting until the very end without every giving up, no matter what that asshole had in store. Granted, Ray had initially expected something a little more torturous to his physicality and involving much less sex, but this was still something he wouldn't forget in a hurry, something he'd need to rest and recover from, and it was definitely a successful deterrent, perhaps even more so than any physical beatings.
Ray's overcome with it all, at least self aware enough to realise he was writhing and bucking into this, and aware enough to be entirely ashamed at himself. But he can't help it. Every part of him was tingling like static, shivering violently despite the heat in the room, and craving more of that amazing sensation of just being touched.
It wasn't his fault that he needed more. It wasn't. The drug had fogged his mind and his senses, had wired and wound him up until he needed to bounce off the walls. But left bound and stuck where he was, he was trying to lose that excess steam by writhing and grinding against the body before him. If only he could have some form of release, just once, right now.
There's fingers in that slice against his hip and Ray's hissing his discomfort, jerking away from the hand even as it moves towards his left hand and-- yes, yes, yes. Even with the obvious sight of the knot tugged free, Ray's mind takes a second or two to catch up, distracted as he was by that incessant pounding of hips.
But then he catches on. Then he realises that he's free! Or one hand is, even if he still had the weight of Armando to deal with and his other bound hand. This was a start, this could work, this could get him out of here... except... except his left hand shoots straight for his own cock, thumbing at the ring in the desperation. It's not an easy thing to get off when he's as swollen as he is, but with a final grunt of pain, he flicks it free and immediately curls his fist around his erection.
Armando's still thrusting away, even in the height of his orgasm, and Ray uses that movement to bring himself along, grimacing against the hot spill pushed deep inside. He's been so close for so long that it only takes a few rough jerks to push himself over he edge, hips suddenly jerking sharply into his own hand as comes over himself. He arches and groans his way through it, eyes snapping shut to avoid having to look at himself in that mirror ceiling, and muscles clamping tightly underneath Armando and around him. But Ray doesn't have the liberty of collapsing into a boneless heap at the end of it all, not if he wants out. So, still on the last few twitches of pleasure, he reluctantly releases his grip, drawing his hand back and trying to drive that still stickied fist into the side of Armando's skull. And again. Two swings that don't have Ray's full weight behind them, but make up for it in determination.
With those attempted he's quickly scrambling for the other tie, trying to one handedly get his right arm loose so he can do something. Maybe throw himself at the guy. Whatever, he's not really thinking about what he's going to do, just focused on freedom. Freedom first and then assault or murder or whatever he could get away with.]
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Ray's overcome with it all, at least self aware enough to realise he was writhing and bucking into this, and aware enough to be entirely ashamed at himself. But he can't help it. Every part of him was tingling like static, shivering violently despite the heat in the room, and craving more of that amazing sensation of just being touched.
It wasn't his fault that he needed more. It wasn't. The drug had fogged his mind and his senses, had wired and wound him up until he needed to bounce off the walls. But left bound and stuck where he was, he was trying to lose that excess steam by writhing and grinding against the body before him. If only he could have some form of release, just once, right now.
There's fingers in that slice against his hip and Ray's hissing his discomfort, jerking away from the hand even as it moves towards his left hand and-- yes, yes, yes. Even with the obvious sight of the knot tugged free, Ray's mind takes a second or two to catch up, distracted as he was by that incessant pounding of hips.
But then he catches on. Then he realises that he's free! Or one hand is, even if he still had the weight of Armando to deal with and his other bound hand. This was a start, this could work, this could get him out of here... except... except his left hand shoots straight for his own cock, thumbing at the ring in the desperation. It's not an easy thing to get off when he's as swollen as he is, but with a final grunt of pain, he flicks it free and immediately curls his fist around his erection.
Armando's still thrusting away, even in the height of his orgasm, and Ray uses that movement to bring himself along, grimacing against the hot spill pushed deep inside. He's been so close for so long that it only takes a few rough jerks to push himself over he edge, hips suddenly jerking sharply into his own hand as comes over himself. He arches and groans his way through it, eyes snapping shut to avoid having to look at himself in that mirror ceiling, and muscles clamping tightly underneath Armando and around him. But Ray doesn't have the liberty of collapsing into a boneless heap at the end of it all, not if he wants out. So, still on the last few twitches of pleasure, he reluctantly releases his grip, drawing his hand back and trying to drive that still stickied fist into the side of Armando's skull. And again. Two swings that don't have Ray's full weight behind them, but make up for it in determination.
With those attempted he's quickly scrambling for the other tie, trying to one handedly get his right arm loose so he can do something. Maybe throw himself at the guy. Whatever, he's not really thinking about what he's going to do, just focused on freedom. Freedom first and then assault or murder or whatever he could get away with.]