Fucktoys – Feline Fleshlight

“Damn..” the deep voice of the stallion trailed off, husky with lust. His eyes were taking in the lion cub in front of him as well as the entire setting, “How did you manage to afford all this?” the equine asked, turning to face the adult lion who was positively beaming with pride from it all.
“Prioritizing, and a lot of DYI,” the lion said with a wry grin, hand gesturing at the various pieces of specialized furniture and gear, “found a cheap house with a good basement and went to work. Roof was solid and all, just needed some paint on the sides and windows, and the dungeon here took me a bit over a year to put together, though we did try out some of its features before it was finished. Isn’t that right, Marcus?”
The young lion cub looked up, nodded and then demurely looked down at the floor again, his green eyes flashing with the memories, though the stallion couldn’t quite see which emotions that entailed. He licked his lips at the sight of the little morsel, barely old enough for his first school-day, and, ostensibly, already heavily trained by father. The cub’s mane was still short like a female’s and he was as naked as the day he was born, though he showed no discomfort as the dungeon was well-heated, the stallion already feeling his fur dampening further.
“Turn around, Marcus, show Mr Manson was he’s here for,” the adult lion said, green eyes narrowed in command. The cub turned around. Slowly. Obviously knowing he had to put up a show. His tufted tail darted back and forth, but as his rump was facing squarely backwards, he lifted it up, and only the jitters at the very end of his tuft betrayed his anxiety at being shown off like this to a stranger. 
“Trained him well, didn’t you?” the stallion asked rhetorically, stepping close and reaching down to give the cub’s buttocks a couple of firm squeezes, causing him to whimper a little in shock, tail standing directly up like electrified.
“Pater Familia,” the lion said with a lewd grin, “a man is supposed to run his household with an iron fist”
“Oh I bet he will take a fist, eventually,” the stallion said with a smirk, stepping back and giving his fingers, which has darted into the cub’s asscrack, a subtle sniff. He grinned broadly, “Cherry?”
“Only the sweetest scents on my sweetest child,” the lion said, fangs showing in rows of white as he smiled with a mixture of possessiveness and pride.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Mr Manson laughed, somewhat cruelly.
“Seems like you want a piece of my work regardless,” the lion said mildly, then his tone shifted, “and he already takes his brother’s fist to the elbow, I’ll have you know.”

The stallion’s blue eyes widened at that and then narrowed with glee, “so that’s why you think he’ll be able to take me?” he said, groping the huge bulge in his grey sweatpants.
The lion didn’t respond, instead ordering his son to face forwards again. Cruel and eager green eyes met shy and timid green eyes, the moment stretching out as the cub was almost hypnotized by his father’s dominance, before the stallion harrumphed and he turned his gaze against the cool, blue eyes of the equine predator.
“Your dad says I’m gonna breed your pretty little ass tonight, kitty, what do you have to say to that?” Mr Manson asked. 
“If master says I have to do something, then I have to do it,” the lion cub replied, almost mechanically, years of training permeating his words and tone, which was almost robotic.
“What a well-behaved boy you are, Marcus,” the stallion said, almost kindly, “come over here and help me undress, so you can see what you are up against. 
With that, the brown-furred equine pulled off his hoodie, which had so far obscured his body, and revealed a thoroughbred stud of a male. His muscles, from his forearms, to his biceps, to his wide shoulders and thick neck, down to the thick and heavy pecs, to the chiseled abs, bespoke years of rigorous training. His lighter brown chest-fur went into almost off-white down his stomach towards his groin, while his shoulders and arms and head were dark brown. He tensed his body up, and his muscles rippled, causing the cub’s muzzle to open slightly in awe. The stallion was obviously taller than his dad, but now his hoodie was off, he dwarfed him in both width and muscularity. Marcus’ dad was no slouch either, his athletically muscular form rippled in the lights cast by the many lamps down in the dungeon, but he looked like a schoolboy compared to Mr Manson.
“Put your paw here, kitty,” the stallion said, patting his stomach in an inviting manner, and the cub stepped forward in a daze, his paw reaching out and pushing against the upper abs on the right side of the equine’s torso, trailing his little little digits down the thick and rippling muscles. 
“Man, what a pump you’ve got on,” the adult lion said, almost awestruck by the sight of his son’s little paw looking almost toddler-like compared to the sheer size of the stallion, the cub’s fist barely as wide as a single frontal abdominal muscle.
“Put that paw lower, boy,” Mr Manson said in a more commanding voice, eager to see the lion’s paw reach his erect package that was causing his sweatpants to bulge out, a wide and expanding blotch of pre staining the grey fabric. 

Marcus paw trembled as it trailed lower, making contact with the hot and pulsing shaft underneath the stretchy fabric, causing the stallion to growl and his member to spasm, almost threatening to rip the sweatpants apart. His curious paw followed the outline of the massive cock. He gripped at the flared point, which throbbed and surged with even more blood, revealing a monster of a kittybreaker. The cub trembled anxiously as he put another paw on the stallion’s dick, squeezing it through the fabric, pre seeping through like wringing a washcloth and coating his fingers with thick musk. 
The kitten’s green eyes were almost in tears with fright, as he did what came naturally after years of being trained by his dad, loping his paws into the waistband of Mr Manson’s sweatpants and pulling down, grunting with frustrated effort as the throbbing shaft acted like a lever holding them up. 
“Let me help you with that,” the stallion said, easily pulling them fully off, his erection flying out with impressive speed and smacking the little boy on his chin. 
A thick cloud of musk and a slick coating of precum coated the kitten’s jaw and caused his whiskers to twitch rapidly from the heavy scents that entered his nose. His tongue darted out unconsciously and sampled the sweet and manly precum that was sticking to his head-fur. Meanwhile, his eyes were wide with cub-like trepidation, taking in the sight of the stallion’s huge and throbbing member. It was long, perhaps as long as his entire arm, and thicker than his big brother’s fist, going into a flared tip almost as thick as his dad’s paw. He began to shiver, it was just to big! He knew it would hurt him. He feared it would kill him, and a couple of tears formed in his eyes.
“Easy does it, kitty, I’m not sticking all of it in, I would probably exit through your mouth!” the stallion guffawed, kicking the sweatpants off his legs and letting his body stand on full display, turning a bit to the side to let his member accentuate his huge form and flexed his entire body, muscles rippling from his calves to his forearms. He held the pose for a few seconds, and the lion cub couldn’t help but take in the sight of this behemoth, thighs as thick as his own body, biceps so wide he doubted he could even wrap his arms around them, all of it completed by that massive horse cock that extended for what looked like a foot and a half to the little kitten’s frightened eyes.

Mr Manson took the little moment to cast his eyes around the dungeon. It really was a nice piece of work, a couple thousand square feet of play-space, black and brown leather furniture, wooden implements like a rack, a wooden horse, a stockade and a couple of crosses of various designs. Separated into smaller areas by low or higher walls of furnished wood with manacles or steel rings jutting out at various intervals and heights. The stallion’s feet were presently touching a layer of soft leather, or a similar synthetic material, but he could see the flooring would change between the play-spaces, from bare concrete, to wooden flooring and more leather.
“Now that’s a sight!” the lion’s voice said from the side, husky with lust, as he had moved off to retrieve some gear from a cupboard set into one of the divider walls. He had disrobed as well, his feline erection bobbing and glistening, and had put on a leather jacket that was riddled with leather studs. The garment clung tightly to his muscular frame, leather creaking as he brought up the gear he had retrieved.
In his left paw, the lion held a thick leather mask in the shape of a canine puppy, as well as some kind of dildo and some sort of metal tubing, with a couple thin rubber hoses dangling below. In the other he held a kitten-sized bitchsuit in a bright pink colour with the emblem of a heart stamped onto its chest-piece. Marcus looked askew at the gear and began trembling, but the stallion stepped forward, angling his meat down, and ground his cock into the cub’s face, a thick layer of glistening slime depositing there.
“Oh man, I can smell it over here,” the lion dad said breathlessly, in awe of the thick and masculine scent that wafted over from the thick cock. His own barbed member twitched and spasmed and precum dribbled out its slit.
“Yeah, it really was a good workout,” Mr Manson replied, concentrating on smearing his cockslime all over his newfound kitten bitch, marking him as his own. 
“I don’t think that will even fit in his mouth,” the adult lion said, green eyes flashing with mirth, “though Felix should be able to handle it once you get to meet him.
“Yeah, I was wondering about that, you always mention them as a pair,” the stallion said, sounding almost dissapointed. 
“Don’t be greedy!” the lion laughed, “I wrecked him real good the other day, so I’m letting him off for a while. He’s at a one of his friends’ place on a playdate.”
“Oh?” the stallion raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Not like that,” the lion grinned, “just some regular R&R, can’t play with a toy if you break it too much!” 
“You sure can’t..” the stallion trailed off, looking down at the kitten whose head barely reached his nutsack, wondering how this session was going to play out. 

“Come here, Marcus,” the lion said, beckoning his cock-stinking son over. He put down the gear on a leather-covered table and stood with a four inch dildo in his hand. The boy obediently came over and opened his muzzle, still trembling in anxiety, knowing bad things were coming.
“Open up,” the leather clad lion said, smirking as the pre-slicked muzzle opened up and he plunged the dildo inside to the hilt, causing the kitten to gag around it. He then fastened the straps it was equipped with around the kitten’s head, securing it and then reached for the rubber balloon-pump that was trailing from the dildo’s base. He squeezed the balloon again and again, the dildo expanding inside the cub’s mouth, filling his tastebuds with the taste of well-cleaned silicone and the roof and back of his muzzle with ever expanding pressure. 
Quickly, breathing from the mouth was impossible, and the kitten drew in ever more laboured breaths from his nostrils, as the dildo expanded further back down his throat. The dad kept note of when the boy began retching and let off the pump, twisting a little knob and pulling the hose off the dildo. The kitten was breathing with difficulty through his nose and saliva and throatslime ran down his already damp muzzle.
The adult lion then retrieved the next piece of equipment. What looked like two oval earbuds with thin rubber hoses as wired was brought forth and he inserted the two silicone buds into the kitten’s nostrils, popping them in as the oval shape kept them there. The boy trembled more and more and his breathing got even more laboured. Next, the man brought forth a tight-fitting leather headpiece that covered both the eyes and the ears, straps tightened, sight and sound taken away from the cub. 

With only darkness and throbbing silence, the cub felt the pup-mask with acute sensitivity. Every surface of the mask as it was placed onto his head and tightened pressed in on him like leathery walls. He could hear his own breathing faintly, shuddering and laboured as it was, and his head was getting slightly dizzy from it all. A particular hard tightening of a strap caused him to yelp, but it was utterly silenced by the plug down his throat, and he retched and trembled from the sensation of his nostrils and the tubing filling up with saliva. Shuddering like a leaf in the wind, he forced himself to snort inwards, to clear the tubing, and he swallowed down his spittle with difficulty, allowing air to reach his aching lungs again. 
The kitten would have cried out when he was suddenly lifted and placed on his back on the leather table, if he could, instead he whimpered silently as he felt the rest of the bitchsuit being strapped onto his body. Suddenly, pressure was on his legs, forcing them backwards, towards his head. He had been trained well, his natural agility let his ankles travel all the way to be parallel with his neck, and he felt the snaps and metal buckles connected, the pressure on his legs disappearing. Yet, the natural extension of his hips was prevented, as his ankles had been connected to the piece around his throat, keeping him utterly exposed. His entire body was wrapped in thick leather, and the only air he could feel on his fur was around his bared buttocks and his little nutsack and sheath, which poked out a small hole in the front of the suit. 

“Jesus Christ, man..” the stallion breathed out, taking in the sight of suited-up kitten. Pink-coloured leather covered his body and thick mittens had been placed on his paws and feet. The hood, shaped like a canine pup, fully enclosed the cub’s face, and out of the nose of the hood trailed the two rubber hoses that provided him with fresh air.
“One last thing,” the lion growled, taking the thin length of steel pipe that was the final piece, two openings at the bottom, one at the top. He connected the hoses at the bottom and let the thing dangle, tinny-sounding intakes and outpours of breath trailing back and forth. 
“Isn’t he gonna suffocate?” the stallion asked with some worry in his voice.
“Not immediately,” the lion responded with a cruel smirk, “but we don’t have all day with this setup. Pick him up, use him as you will, he’s your fleshlight now.”
“Sure thing,” the stallion responded, “but first, let me just...”

Breath was getting harder for the cub, additional obstruction had been placed on his air intake and his chest expanded and contracted all that it could against the tight leather of his bitchsuit. His taste buds tasted silicone and his body only felt the tight grip of firm leather, his nose took in the scent of rubber and steel. Marcus felt utterly trapped, utterly helpless, when a thick and musky scent permeated his nose. Cock. Sweat. Urine. Precum. The scent of MAN, deep and rich and choking and cloying. The kitten almost sneezed, yet he was forced to breathe in again and again, his aching lungs demanding air that simply was not arriving, forcing them to work harder and faster just to keep him conscious. The masculine scent percolated into his muzzle, somehow forcing itself past the expanding gag, and all he could taste and smell was thick and heavy stallion musk. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s hot!” the lion exclaimed, as Mr Manson dragged his glistening length across the opening of the steel tube which he held so it faced up, cockslime and musk dribbling inside, tainting every breath the kitten had to take. The feline’s tail bobbed and weaved outside the bitchsuit, obviously reacting to the heavy assault of musk, and the lion shuddered with delight and arousal as he imagined the smell inside the suit.
Satisfied with his marking and the reaction it had gotten, the horse grabbed the kitten’s torso and lifted him up from the leather-clad table without even a grunt of exertion. His biceps bulged as he held the kitten, and a tinny wheeze could be heard from the steel tube as the cub’s breaths grew even more difficult from the pressure of the stallion’s powerful paws.  
Due to his height, towering a head taller than the adult lion, the equine was able to comfortably rest his backside on the leather-covered table, which groaned slightly at his beefy mass. His foalmaker was throbbing with need, though the flare had died down somewhat after all the prep work.
“So, you gonna lube me up, or what?” the stallion demanded and the lion bowed his neck slightly as he went over to the cupboard for a bottle of lube with a push-down dispenser. He pushed out glob after glob of the slick liquid and began applying it to the equine’s length as it bobbed beneath the entrapped form of his son. Soon, cockslime and lube mixed into a thick layer of musky slipperiness, and the lion finished off by applying a generous coating underneath his son’s tail. 
“Not gonna finger him?” the stallion asked, again with that hint of worry. 
“Shouldn’t be necessary, he slept all night with a plug up his ass,” the lion replied, “just ease it in, he should be able to take you without… excessive damage.” 
The lion smiled grimly, in rapture from the sight of that slick, thick, rod of god that was going to ruin his youngest son’s tailhole, and he stepped in and grabbed the pulsing length, angling it up. The stallion huffed and lifted the cub, so that his length could be positioned against the tiny pucker, and he sat the little feline down, powerful arm muscles tensing and cock-veins popping out as he pushed the living fleshlight against his cockhead. The laboured breathing of the kitten got more swift as his entrance was pushed against, but no matter how hard Mr Manson pushed, his thick equine cockhead would not enter. He growled and tried setting the cub down from different angles, trying to slip in part of his cockhead, the adult lion keeping a firm grip on the slick shaft as it bent a little whenever the powerful stallion pushed down. The kitten’s arms were flapping about uselessly all this time, encased in the thick leather of the pink bitchsuit.
“It’s not use, if I really want to I could probably enter, but I think that would rupture his tailhole,” the brown-furred stallion said with regret, slight drops of sweat running down his forehead from the exertion, “you need to make him relax,” he demanded of the lion. 
Quick to respond, the adult leaned forward and began lapping at the kitten’s sheath and little nutsack. His tongue traveled inside to coax the dicklet out and he sucked gently on the fuzzy balls, hoping to lure out an erection.

Marcus had his breath crushed out of him and then the massive head of the stallion’s cock pushed against his backside. He was tensing up, the equine musk was clouding his senses, and his lungs burned more and more with the lack of air. He knew he was supposed to relax, but it was all too much. His hips bent, legs painfully stretched backwards to his neck, arms wiggling pathetically, hampered by stiff leather and heavy mittens.
And then, pleasure.
Sweet divine pleasure. Slow and deliberate licks and suckles on his nethers, his dad using his experience with his body to calm him down and arouse him.
The thick scent of male suddenly made his mind swim with something other than distaste, pheromones finally allowed to do their work. He could feel his body relaxing, his mind growing hazier as his cheeks reddened and he felt the surging need in his loins, the drawing of his sheath, his member growing, hardening, throbbing with need. 

“That’s it!” the stallion growled, constantly pushing, constantly prodding, desperate for his member to enter the small kitten, “I can feel him loosening up.” 
The lion hummed in agreement, his mouth covering his son’s erection, nursing it, suckling it. His tongue made passes about the shaft and around the head, tickling the small feline barbs. He leaned down and suckled on the immature nutsack and his nose picked up the much heavier scent of the stallion, his work sweat, his musk. The dad’s member throbbed with need, but he dared not let the horsecock out of his grip until it was inside the kitten. 
“Fuck! Fuuuuuck, he’s so tight, but he’s opening up now!” the stallion exclaimed, sweat pouring down his head and thickly muscled chest, his whole upper body tensed up as he pushed hard once more, the veins on his cock popping out from the hard pressure. 

Marcus was getting hornier by the second as his member and nutsack was serviced by his father. He felt the throbbing heat at his backside, felt himself relaxing, felt himself yearning to be filled, to amplify his erection, to satiate his growing lust. He pushed back, joint pains forgotten, burning lungs forgotten, anxiety forgotten. 
POP!
In went the thick cockhead. 

“Fuckkkkkk, he’s so tight!” Mr Manson growled huskily, almost in pain from the sheer pressure of the kitten’s anal walls pressing in from all sides.

AIEEEEE HE’S SO BIG, Marcus thought in panic, breath escaping his lungs as his tailhole suddenly burned like it had been stung by a hundred wasps. 
He cried, tears running down his leather-encased cheeks, headfur growing damp. He got even more lightheaded, as his breathing rhytm got messed up from the attempt of blowing out air that wasn’t even present in his lungs. 
He shook and he quivered, useless arms flailing the best they could, smacking against the stone-like arm muscles of the huge stallion that was inside him. 
It felt like when he took his first butt plug, that constant, incessant pressure. Too big. Too fast. Daddy hadn’t played with him for weeks afterwards to let him recuperate back then. 
He wondered how long it would take him to heal from this, as he knew it was only the beginning.

The adult lion engulfed his son’s dick with his muzzle and let go of the stallion’s rock hard cock as it finally made its way inside. He suckled and sucked the best he could, hoping to calm his son down a little before he got rutted. 
“He’s clenching like mad!” the stallion exclaimed, thick muscles straining a little to hold the cub that was gyrating and struggling the best he could. Tinny whistles could be heard from the little steel tube that allowed the kitten air, as his chest contracted and expanded the best it could, desperately trying for air that wasn’t coming, desperately trying to cry out in pain despite being unable to. 
“Lucius… Fuck, calm him down, will you?”
The adult lion sped up his oral ministrations, bobbing his head, squelching noises coming up from his muzzle as he took in the dicklet to the root again and again. 
After a couple of minutes of this, the kitten stopped struggling almost all at once, breathing getting more controlled again, the whistles from the steel tube coming down to a more regular interval. 
Mr Manson felt the pressure on his cockhead diminish and dared push down a little, somewhat surprised that the kitten slid down a couple of inches with almost no resistance.

For Marcus the intense pain’s struggle against the pleasure from the blowjob seemed to last for hours. He cried freely, tears streaming down his face, feeling like his anal ring was ruptured. Eons passed and he grew more lightheaded, his arms grew heavy and he zoned out. The lack of air combined with the continual stimulation to his cock finally won out over the pain, and it turned to pressure which turned to heavy, direct stimulation of his prostate. It was as if he came to life again. He drew in deep breaths, the tingling in his loins suddenly a blaze of arousal and his exploited tailhole grew needy for more. 
Marcus ceased his struggling. 

The stallion growled out as he pushed the little boy down his rod, another inch, another squelch. He pulled him a bit up, two inches, a squelch, three inches down, a squelch, three inches up, four inches down. Mr Manson was sweating profusely now, his living fleshlight giving him quite the workout as his paws tightened around the cub’s chest and he rammed him ever deeper down on his cock and ever faster off it again. 
“I can feel your cock in his stomach,” Lucius moaned out between the cock in his mouth, one of his paws on his own dick and one feeling the thick equine penis banging against his son’s abdomen, pushing against the tender skin like an alien trying to burst out. 
The stallion growled out, his fleshlight taking in more and more, until he finally bottomed out around the medial ring. “Fuck, I wish he could take it all,” he snarled with lust.
“Felix probably can, I’ll introduce the two of you once he’s ready,” the lion huskily retorted, in between his son’s dicklet being almost hammered into his muzzle by the faster and faster fucking he was receiving from the stallion.
Mr Manson was beginning to flare properly, his cockhead expanded to more than twice its normal size, bulging out inside the little kitten’s passage.

Marcus was almost in a state of dreaminess. His lungs burned more and more, and the pressure and pain in his backside and guts was increasing as the stallion’s rut got further inside and harder and faster. His tiny nutsack drew painfully tight against his body and his little cock got ready to shoot its load. When the stallion’s cock seemed to grow twice as large INSIDE HIM, it finally pushed the kitten over the edge and he expelled what air he had in his lungs in what could have been a scream or moan or a cry if his airways weren’t obstructed. 

Lucius felt the kitten’s member twitch in his muzzle and he pulled back to get the full sight of what happened. The bondage’d cub’s arms flapped around uselessly and a constant tinny whistle came out of the steel tube. His member twitched and wobbled this way and that, as the stallion used him as a proper fleshlight, all concerns forgotten as he neared his own orgasm. The cub was pulled off all the way until only the flared cocktip was inside and the speared on the thick shaft as the muscular equine pushed down with heavy growls. The adult lion rubbed his barbed shaft at the sight of his little son’s stomach distending in a clear impression of the flared cockhead again and again, noticing the tiny spurts of cum the kitten emitted were spraying out whenever the massive cock plunged deep inside. 
Grinning evilly, he quickly darted over to the cupboard and picked out a small sounding rod with trembling paws, as well as small steel contained with foreign writing on it. 
“Fuck me, I can feel him cumming every time I push him down! His whole body is clenching around me inside!” the stallion exclaimed, tongue lolling out in pleasure and the haze of rut. He was getting close himself, his flared cockhead almost ready to spew out its load of semen inside his struggling-to-breathe sex toy.
A loud pop was heard as the adult lion took off the lid of the container he had retrieved, then a clatter as he idly discarded it on the floor. A sharp and pungent smell permeated the air. Mr Manson slowed down and eventually let the cub’s body rest as he was deepest inside, his flared cockhead squishing against the boy’s organs and stomach skin. He was breathing heavily, covered in sweat, bulging muscles bulging obscenely, hammering in the sight of the massive stallion and the little kitten fucktoy embedded on his meat.
“What the fuck is that?” Mr Manson asked, almost knocked off course by this turn of events. 
“Tiger balm. The under-the-table-in-an-Asian-local-store kind of variety,” the adult lion said darkly, voice almost cracking with lust, a dangerous and cruel gleam in his green eyes, “I want both his holes to burn after this is over!” 
“’A real piece of work.’ That’s what I said and I stand by it!” the equine barked with dark humour, his own expression catching some of the same cruelty as the dad’s. He gripped the boy’s body VERY tightly and got ready for the finisher, “just don’t get any on my cock!”
Lucius gave him a wink and proceeded to coat his index finger and thumb with the off-white balm inside the container, before applying it to the kitten’s little barbed dicklet. It was still stubbornly hard, blood still flowing there due to the immense pressure on his prostate, and was soon coated with the sharply smelling ointment. The reaction was almost immediate, the tired cub’s arms began flailing and his breathing rate sharply increased despite the massive paws crushing against his chest. 
Then, the lion dad took the sound and dipped it inside the tiger balm, thick globs sticking to the surgical steel that was in the shape of a series of miniature balls. 
“Ribbed for his pleasure…” the tiger smirked at his own remark and positioned the ointment-dripping sound at the tip of the frantically struggling kitten’s piss-slit.
The stallion growled at the cruel sight, his member throbbing inside the fleshlight, and he began lifting the squirming kitten off his dick, right into the surgical steel.

Pleasure.
Pleasure-Pleasure-Pleasure. 
Deep, throbbing pleasure. Then pain, then pleasure. Fullness, then a void, wetness on his member, then nothing. 
The orgasm took longer than the creation of the universe, earth-shattering, nebula-exploding, thick meat crammed inside his tender body again and again. His nutsack was imploding, molten lava turned nectar flowed out his dick as he convulsed his way through his orgasm. 
And then, fullness. Stillness. Just a deep throbbing as he continued to dribble, aching and pained anal muscles clamping against the hot meat of the stallion that was holding him, crushing him. 
His senses returned, he felt the rumblings of speech through his back. He felt the stallion’s abdominal muscles flexing and turning, pressing burning embers into his fur through the thick leather. He felt everything. The deep throbbing of the horsecock inside. The needy throbbings of his still-hard dick. The burning-like-drowning throbbing of his lungs. Prostate battered yet eager for more. His brain swelling with emotions and sensations, somewhat seasick, somewhat lovesick, somewhat horny, somewhat tired. 
It was like a deep and dark spiral into the darkest recesses of the ocean. A still moment in time as the surges of his orgasm wracked his body for what seemed like eternity. 
And then slick fingers on his shaft. Lovingly caressing it. He wanted to lean into it, the fire inside wanting more. Then it was real fire, it was flames. 
It was hot!
His reveries were ended with the sharp pain that only increased in intensity as the moments flew by agonizingly slowly. The fire waned and waxed higher, like a tide up a beach, like the smith’s coals being stoked by the bellow, the furnace roaring. 
He began to shake, almost a seizure, the pain only grew hotter, sharper, every spine on his dicklet their own little fireplace, his piss-slit an island of agony.
Then he was lifted off the thick rod he was clenching so hard against, a scratching void left in its wake, and he felt his member being penetrated by something that UNDULATED inside. 
He knew the toy, but this time it wasn’t a welcomed lover but a hated rapist. The balls of the steel sound stretching frail skin around them, his urethra burning in all directions as the fire was pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled, deeper and deeper inside.