Chapter Text
“Would you like to help me with some science?”
Cecil didn’t even know why Carlos felt he needed to ask when the answer was already so obvious. He might not understand anything about science, but he loved that Carlos did, and loved helping him with it even more. But despite Cecil enthusiastically agreeing, Carlos didn’t actually seem to need any help. He had been doing science, that much was certain, but Cecil had no idea what kind. Every night after dinner, he’d run off to the basement, locking himself in there and tinkering loudly with something, never asking Cecil to join him and never talking about his work. This wasn’t a problem, of course. Cecil knew privacy was important, or rather was learning that privacy was important, and reminded himself of that fact constantly. It just seemed strange that Carlos would specifically ask for his help, and then not actually use it.
That was until about two weeks later, when Carlos didn’t sneak off to the basement. They’d just finished eating, and Cecil was rinsing the dishes in the sink when Carlos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around him, pressed soft kisses to the back of his neck. Cecil jumped, just a little. He’d expected the scrape of Carlos’ chair against the floor would be followed shortly by the sound of the basement door closing, but he settled down quickly enough, humming appreciatively at the affection. Carlos’ hands dipped lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of Cecil’s jeans, splaying out over his thighs, and pressing him back against Carlos’ groin. Cecil let out a shuddering breath and grinned as he put down the plate in his hand and turned off the faucet. He leaned back against Carlos, reaching behind him to run his fingers through his dark hair, and nuzzled at his jaw.
“No science tonight?” he asked, but Carlos chuckled at the question.
“Extra special science tonight, actually,” he said, his voice thick with desire, before kissing at Cecil’s jaw, sucking marks into his skin. “Did you still want to help me?”
Cecil bit his lip and nodded, heat rising in his cheeks. “I always want to help.”
“I’m glad,” Carlos replied before nipping at his earlobe, “but you can change your mind at anytime, and I’ll stop, okay?”
Cecil gasped as Carlos threaded his fingers through the loosening whorl of his tendrils, separating the mass into five individually twitching appendages as easily as he would unzip a jacket. Cecil whined high-pitched and needy and braced himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, suddenly feeling not quite capable enough to hold himself upright. “Wh-why would I want you to stop?”
Carlos smiled against his skin as he gently squeezed a tendril between his fingers, his own dick twitching against Cecil’s ass as he moaned breathily and ground back against him. “Because I’m doing science on you tonight.”
Cecil stiffened. “O-on me?”
Carlos shushed him softly and ran his free hand under Cecil’s shirt and over his stomach, feeling the way his muscles twitched and rippled under his gentle touch.
“I’m not going to cut you open or anything like that, cariño,” he purred before sucking a soft purple mark into his neck. Cecil shuddered, whining softly as he struggled to keep himself upright.
“So it’s s-science I’ll e-enjoy then?”
Carlos rolled his hips against him with a soft groan. “That’s the plan. Are you ready?”
Cecil’s mind was barely coherent with so much attention being paid to his body. His tendrils were winding themselves around Carlos’ fingers, and he could feel them dripping slick rivulets down his thighs. Science. On him? He briefly wondered if it had to do with Carlos’ work in the basement, but found himself unable to concentrate on any one thought for too long as each touch pulled more needy whines from his throat, his legs growing increasingly shakier with each passing minute, and he nodded his head.
“I th-think--” He moaned as Carlos tightened his grip on his tendrils, already beginning to swell with ink. “I… y-yeah. I-I’m ready.”
“Perfect,” Carlos said as he slipped his hand out of Cecil’s pants and backed away. Cecil whimpered at the loss of contact, his legs shaking with the effort to keep him upright, and he turned to see Carlos smiling brightly at him and holding out his hand. “Let me show you what I’ve been working on.”
Cecil wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to make it down the basement stairs without toppling both of them while he was dealing with winged creatures fluttering violently around in his stomach, and the fact that his blood had found something more interesting to do than supply oxygen to his head. But there he was, and there Carlos was, and they hadn’t tripped once, which was fortunate because the contraption at the bottom of the stairs seemed like it would have been severely damaged if they’d crashed into it.
Cecil didn’t know what it was, couldn’t even begin to imagine. He was certain Carlos did though, because he had already moved over to it and begun fussing with it, leaving Cecil to awkwardly stand there, swollen tendrils making a rather active tent in his pants, and wait to find out what kind of science was going to be performed on him. He was surprised to find that Carlos had managed to clean up the basement so quickly since they’d moved in. It looked really scientific, if he had to pick a word to describe it; all stainless steel and bright lights, although those lights were currently off in favor of something a little more mood-setting. The only lights still on were the ones directly above the device, which was… interesting.
It mostly seemed to be a well-padded bench, but much longer than a bench normally was, and much higher off the ground too. More like a table, really, but a padded one? It wasn’t just a bench either. There was a… thing pushed up against the end of it. Some sort of box that also had padding against the side facing the bench, but with a hole cut out near the bottom, and something purple and rounded protruding slightly from it. There were meters and dials on the side with numbers and settings he didn’t understand, wires connecting it to unseen power sources. The last thing he noticed were the restraints.
“Cecil.”
He snapped back to attention, and his breath hitched in his throat as he realized Carlos had put on his lab coat. Carlos grinned devilishly as Cecil’s eyes darkened, making a show of adjusting the lapels and brushing nonexistent dirt from the sleeves before standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, and setting his jaw, looking every bit like the dedicated scientist Cecil knew and loved.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and Cecil somehow managed to not drool on himself as he nodded slowly. He moaned breathily as Carlos palmed the slick bulge his tendrils were forming in his jeans, eyes fluttering open on his forehead in response. Carlos immediately pulled his hand away, and Cecil whined and the loss of contact.
“For the purpose of this experiment, there will be no manifesting,” Carlos instructed, and Cecil’s jaw dropped.
“B-but… Carlos,” he pleaded, grasping Carlos’ hand tightly. “You know it’s hard for me to hold back.”
“I’m sorry, Cecil,” Carlos said, but he certainly didn’t sound sorry as he stroked Cecil’s cheek and smiled, “but part of the experiment is seeing how long you can go without manifesting. I promise this won’t take too long, so just try to make it work for as long as you can, okay?”
Cecil gnawed anxiously at his lower lip, that feeling of angry winged things in his gut increasing, but he sighed and nodded regardless, letting go of Carlos’ hand. “What is the experiment?”
Carlos eyes lit up. “I’m so glad you asked. You may not be aware of this, but it takes a human male an average of five to ten minutes to achieve orgasm.”
“Okay…,” said Cecil, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“However, through use of accessories, or sometimes just sheer force of will, they can delay it for much longer than that.”
“Oh,” said Cecil. “That’s, uh… interesting? I guess?”
“It is,” Carlos grinned. “But, of course, you aren’t human.”
Cecil nodded. “That’s definitely what I’ve been told.”
“So I got to wondering,” Carlos continued and picked up a handful of what appeared to be rubber rings, thicker in diameter than his thumb, but not by much, “how long you could last through the use of accessories.”
Cecil’s tendrils thrashed eagerly against his fly, but he managed to keep the searing heat his nerves were firing off from causing him to manifest.
“Th-that… I’ve never….” He swallowed thickly, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “I don’t really know. It’s not something I’ve thought about before.”
“That’s fine. No problem at all,” Carlos replied, picking up a clipboard with some rather official looking notes on them. “From the evidence I’ve, uh, gathered, you could say, over the past few months, I’ve estimated that forty-five minutes is a good place to start.” He glanced at Cecil over the rims of his glasses. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“Wh-uh… I guess so?”
“Great! You need to get undressed,” Carlos instructed, gentle but still commanding, as he put down the clipboard and rings, and Cecil couldn’t hide the shiver that shot through his spine at the authoritative tone.
“Y-yes, of course,” he replied, and pulled off his t-shirt, putting it in Carlos’ outstretched hand, who immediately folded it and placed it on a nearby shelf in a very official manner. He crossed his arms, rubbing at them nervously. There was a slight chill in the air, being in an underground room and all. Carlos grinned and hooked his fingers under the waistband of Cecil’s jeans, pulling him close enough to press kisses to his chest.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured against his skin, skillfully undoing Cecil’s jeans with one hand as he slid the other over his stomach to thumb at a nipple. “You’ll warm up soon enough.”
Cecil gasped and nodded, attempting to roll his hips into Carlos’ touch, but the scientist had already moved away, fiddling with the contraption again. Cecil huffed in disappointment and shucked off his pants, kicking them to the side rather than neatly placing them with his shirt. He anxiously palmed at his tendrils, which were quickly becoming much less active despite the rivulets of ink dripping down his legs. This was just… weird, even for him. Carlos turned back around, beaming with scientific brilliance, but his expression immediately dropped when he saw Cecil withdrawn and fidgety.
“Cecil, cariño,” he said, his voice as soft and gentle as a spring breeze, and took Cecil in his arms. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
Cecil shrugged. “I don’t think so, but… I don’t even know what we’re doing exactly. I’m just… nervous, I guess.”
Carlos stroked his cheek as he kissed him, soft and slow, before pulling away with a smile. “You’re right, I should explain everything first.”
He took Cecil by the hand and led him over to the machine.
“This is where you lay down,” he explained, pointing to the padded bench-possibly-table. “On your back, of course. Can’t give your tentacles room to sprout. The restraints are as thickly reinforced as they are padded, so there’s no chance of you breaking free and ending the experiment early.”
“But what if I need it to end early?” Cecil asked, chewing on his lip. Carlos placed a finger against it, stilling his nervous habit.
“You tell me and I end it safely,” he stated firmly, and Cecil nodded, fully understanding the importance of the command. “If you want it to end, say… ‘void’. I doubt it’s something you’ll accidentally say during the experiment when things start ramping up.”
“Void,” Cecil repeated, his tendrils wriggling back to life as he already began to feel at ease, and Carlos smiled.
“Exactly.” He turned the box with the dials and meters slightly towards them and pushed a button. The purple rounded thing slowly extended from the hole, and it became immediately obvious what its purpose was. It was long and thick, curved slightly, and ridged with bumps of varying sizes and heights. Cecil palmed his tendrils absentmindedly at the sight of it, and Carlos grinned. “This is what I’ll be penetrating you with. You like it?”
“That’s… really good, yeah,” said Cecil, his blood suddenly and mysteriously absent from his brain again.
“It has varying speeds and vibration intensities,” Carlos continued, as he pointed to various knobs on the side of the box. “I’ve even made it possible to input programs to increase or decrease the intensity over time, similar to an exercise machine, actually, only sexier, I guess.”
“It’s very impressive,” Cecil purred as he wrapped his arms around Carlos, rolled his hips against him, and Carlos hummed in agreement, tilting his head back to kiss him.
“I wanted to be thorough,” he grinned. “Can’t let the experiment get ruined by confounding variables or anything. It’s all very scientific.” He coiled Cecil’s tendrils around his fingers and gave them a slow tug, feeling them gently swell under his fingertips. “Shall I get you strapped in?”
Cecil nuzzled his neck. “I’d like that.”
“Then hop onto the table, and we’ll get started.”
Cecil did as instructed, bouncing slightly on the padding beneath him, the nervousness returning again. “It’s very soft.”
“I know,” Carlos responded as he gently pushed Cecil onto his back, letting his fingertips linger on his chest. “I don’t expect you to be doing too much thrashing about, but thought I should be prepared for that eventuality anyway.”
He stared adoringly at the scientist. “You’re so smart.”
“Yes, well….” Carlos cleared his throat and looked away in an attempt to hide the soft pink flush in his cheeks. “Slide closer to the end of the table and I’ll get you set up.”
Cecil scooted himself towards the end where two leather cuffs were jutting up from the sides of the table, though facing the wrong direction to be used on his ankles. Carlos reached under the table to some sort of storage shelf Cecil hadn’t noticed earlier, pulled out a thick metal bar with similar leather cuffs on each end, and passed it through the ones on the table.
“This is to keep your legs apart,” he explained as he carefully fastened them to Cecil, pulling the straps snugly, but not too tight. He stepped back and looked the bonds over, humming with displeasure. He reached beneath the table again, and Cecil heard something clank rather loudly, followed by a grinding sound, and the table began to tilt forward, bringing him into somewhat more of a sitting position as he slid even closer to the end.
“Just a moment,” Carlos said as he continued the adjustments. The area of the table immediately beneath Cecil’s feet tilted upwards, separating from the rest of it and forming a sort of resting place for him, uncomfortable though it was, but it was certainly better than sliding off entirely, and the bar wouldn’t be in the way of penetrating him anymore. Carlos lowered the legs on the machine itself next, though he didn’t seem to be able to tilt it in exactly the same angle as Cecil. “I can tilt the arm the toy is on to penetrate you from any angle, really, but it just might not work quite as well this way.” He looked up at Cecil and shrugged. “It’s the best I can do. I didn’t get to test it before now, obviously.”
Cecil grinned and stroked languidly at his tendrils, coating his fingers in slick fluid. “I’m sure I’ll like it just fine.”
Carlos grabbed Cecil’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his groin, ignoring Cecil’s whined protest and slight pout.
“Arms above your head,” Carlos instructed, letting go of him and reaching up to unbuckle the restraints at the top of the table. Cecil did as told and was secured to the table in no time, soft padding hugging his wrists close. He tugged against them experimentally, but wasn’t able to make them budge an inch.
“Strong,” he commented, impressed by how the cuffs didn’t even cut into his skin no matter how hard he tried to pull out of them. Carlos put a hand over his arms to still him and leaned in for a kiss.
“I did design them to withstand the strength of a monster,” he purred, slipping his other hand into Cecil’s writhing tendrils, and grinned as Cecil moaned against his lips. “Are you ready?”
Cecil bit his lip and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he did his best to relax back against the table and steel himself to receive the rather large dildo, those creatures in his stomach fluttering around again. It wasn’t something thick and plastic that penetrated him though, but rather something slender and warm. His eyes darkened and he gasped, managing to school the transformation back under control just in time before Carlos gazed longingly up at him, his eyelids heavy and his smile wide as he pressed another ink-slicked finger into Cecil and scissored them roughly. Cecil arched off the table, his arms straining against his bonds.
“F-for the… e-experiment?” he stammered, and Carlos chuckled.
“No, this one’s just for me,” he said before sliding his fingers free, caressing Cecil’s thigh as he whined in disappointment. “Just one moment, cariño. You’ll be full again soon.”
Carlos turned a dial and the machine whirred to life, and soon enough Cecil felt the rounded tip of the toy nudging against his hole. He hissed in surprise, but Carlos was right there, gently stroking his leg with one hand as he kept his attentions focused on the machine.
“I’m going slow, Cecil,” he said, looking up just for a second to smile reassuringly at him. “Don’t worry.”
Cecil nodded and moaned breathily, curling his toes over the sides of his footholds as the rounded tip began to open him wide, each bump and ridge that passed through his entrance eliciting a violent twitch from his dripping tendrils. He strained against his bonds, wanting nothing more than to grind downwards and stuff himself on the thick plastic arm filling him, but all he could do was shudder and whine, high-pitched and needy, as Carlos slowly, agonizingly filled him. His body burned from the effort of staying in his human form, every inch of him wanting to change, to lose control and burst free. A firm squeeze on his thigh brought him back to attention.
“Cecil,” Carlos said in a warning tone, “your teeth.”
Cecil ran his tongue over his them, feeling sharp points digging into soft flesh, and he whined pitifully. “I c-can’t, Carlos… please. Just this one thing.”
Carlos sighed disapprovingly but returned to his work without pressing the point. The arm was almost fully extended from the machine, but not quite. “Can you take more?”
“Yes!” Cecil cried, digging his fingers into the padding of the table as he struggled to ignore the pulsing heat in his groin, his tendrils growing thick and sluggish as they became more and more swollen with ink. “So much more.”
“Hmm, not just yet,” said Carlos, and stopped turning the dials on the machine. The arm stopped pushing the toy inwards, and Cecil groaned in frustration.
“Why are you stopping? I didn’t say the word to stop!”
Carlos rolled his eyes as he picked up the five rings he had shown Cecil earlier.
“My lab coat, my lab, my experiment,” he explained, grasping one of Cecil’s tendrils firmly enough to hold it still, but not quite as firmly as Cecil would have liked him to, though he moaned appreciatively regardless. “I have to get the rings on you before these thicken too much.”
Cecil bit his lip and nodded, trying not to writhe and arch as the pliable rings stretched over each tendril, but it was agony, so close to being what he needed for release, and still so maddeningly far from it. It felt like an eternity before he couldn’t feel Carlos’ hands on his tendrils anymore, and felt the machine pressing into him again. He shuddered and cried, pressure building in his groin, but having nowhere to go, no way to be released.
“C-Carlos,” he whined, rolling his hips weakly. “It’s s-so much to take.”
Carlos visibly steadied himself before turning to address him, but Cecil could see that his pupils blown wide and his breath was shallow. “Do you want to stop?”
Cecil bit his lip and shook his head.
“Okay, because I’m starting the next step now.”
“Th-the next--”
Cecil’s words were cut short as Carlos touched a different dial, and the toy began to pulse and vibrate and thrust deep within him. Cecil wailed, back arching painfully off the table as it buzzed away inside him, his skin burning from the effort to keep himself in human form. Carlos was beside him in an instant, clamping a hand over Cecil’s mouth and forcing him to look at him.
“Cecil, you need to stop screaming,” he instructed. “I haven’t soundproofed the room yet.”
It was no use. Cecil couldn’t stop screaming, not while he was being massaged so deliciously by dozens of bumps and ridges, or while the thrumming of the machine was so deep inside him that he could feel the vibrations through to his chest. His head swam in a thick haze of pleasure as what had just been pressure in his groin became a searing heat that grew stronger and stronger, but had no way to escape. His tendrils thickened as much as they could, constricted as they were by the rings, and thrashed as violently as their ink-swollen forms allowed, but it wasn’t enough. There was too much, far too much being held back. He couldn’t add his voice to that list.
“Shit!” Carlos spat, rushing for the stairs. “I’ll be right back, Cecil. I need to get you a gag.”