A Surprise Gift

"Early again?"

I looked up from my computer to see Laura smiling as she came in the door to the office.

"This is becoming a bad habit for you!"

"No doubt..." I said. "Figured I'd make up for the last three years of coming in late from oversleeping. These new sleep meds work wonders."

And it was the truth. For most of my life I didn't get much sleep at night; most of the sleep I got was accidental - at my desk in class, in front of the TV or even on a park bench. My friends started joking that I was narcoleptic, and I was almost inclined to believe them. The new medicine the doctor put me on did wonders for that, and since I started taking it about 3 months ago, I haven't had a rough night or the usual rougher morning.

I worked through yet another long Friday: Blueprints, specifications and prototypes, the life of an engineer. Thinking about it, it was a wonder I ever got through school with as distracted - or even straight up asleep - as I was through my entire college career. I was lucky to graduate, and even luckier to score a sweet job at a local firm. I finished up the final page of the draft I was working on, and let myself take off 15 minutes early. I figured I'd earned it.

At home, it was more of the usual - email, dinner, a movie and then I settled in for an evening of deep, relaxing sleep.

--

I woke with a start. At first I was groggy - obviously I had woken up while still in a bit of a sedated state. My head cleared quickly when I noticed that I couldn't move. I had heard of sleep paralysis before, and it was even listed as one of the side effects of the medicine I was taking. This was different. I could move slightly, but there was much resistance. I was also on my stomach, in an extremely strange position - I never slept on my stomach. As my head cleared further, I managed to get a better grip on my situation and notice that my situation had a firm grip on me as well.

My heart was pounding. I was stomach-down on a firm surface. I couldn't quite determine why, but I was sure the surface was elevated from the ground. My arms were bound tightly at my sides, my legs bound down, straight, and with my feet slightly more than shoulder-width apart. My head was on a firm pillow, elevated slightly, and held in place with some sort of leather band around my forehead. Whoever bound me here must not want me looking around and possibly getting a look at their face. But why not just cover their face? Why not blindfold me?

Figuring that my captor must be near by, I spoke - only to find that I could make no noise. It was then that I noticed the fullness in my mouth - a firm rubber object was very securely fastened in place; large enough to fill my mouth, reaching almost to my throat.

I was in a dark room, bound to a table, gagged and... cold? My heart stopped. The chill over my skin was brought to my focus - I was naked. I was in a dark room, bound to a table, gagged and NAKED. Was I... about to be raped? I started really pulling at my bindings now, but there was no use.

I heard a faint noise, the sound of electronics. In front of me, immediately in the center of my vision a laptop computer was booting. Before now, the room was pitch black and silent. The new light from the laptop's display afforded me a look around the room. As my eyes adjusted to the new light, I began to recognize my surroundings. I was in a workshop, but not any workshop - my own workshop, attached to the side of my home. And the laptop that so kindly lit my surroundings was my laptop. Something very wrong was happening and I struggled now as hard mentally as I had physically just moments earlier.

As the laptop finished booting, I expected a video of the puppet from Saw to narrate my sins to me and foretell my fate. Maybe I had seen too many movies, but then again, I was in my own garage, bound to a table, gagged and naked, and I didn't know how I got here. Ask anyone - that's pretty far from normal.

My media player opened full screen and my heart skipped a beat. However, the demented puppet never came. Instead, the video was an ordinary and fairly innocuous porn - two gorgeous redheads entered the scene and began teasing each other. Since it was obvious that I was going to be here for a while, I took advantage of my captor's kindness and used the porn to, well, take my mind off of things.

As I began to relax, as much as one can when they're in my situation, I noticed yet another aspect of my bindings. My cock was hanging through a hole in the table to which I was bound. Not only that, it seemed to be captive in its own rather snug enclosure. As I paid more attention to the video and less to my situation, my dick began to harden and fill the sleeve that covered it. I very nearly forgot about my dire situation when I heard an electrical relay click, and the sleeve over my cock began moving.

I panicked. Was this machine about to pull my dick off? I froze in place, though considering my situation it would have difficult to do anything but, and waited for the mechanical grip of a penis-ripper-offer.

Instead, the sleeve merely slid over my member, reciprocating slowly back and forth. Given the circumstances, it was a rather pleasant experience. I relaxed again, and let the machine stroke me while I watched two beautiful women grind each other to orgasm after orgasm. It was only a couple minutes later that I joined them - my body tensing as the machine milked a full load of cum out of my quivering cock.

As if it knew I was finished, the machine slowed to a stop. The video paused, and my fear returned. What was going to happen now? Was this one last kindness before I was brutally murdered? I waited for the worst.

I waited for footsteps, I waited for heavy breathing, for the grating of a butcher knife over a sharpening hone, for the cocking of a gun. Nothing of that sort came. In fact, nothing at all came. I was back in a silent room, bound to a table... well, you know the situation.

I began to look around, harder this time. I looked for anything that might have been out of place, other that me. I noticed some blueprints on the floor, at the very edge of my field of view. They seemed to detail the construction of the table I was now part of. The plans didn't look familiar, but something about them did. I couldn't place it.

I was straining to see any other detail of the room when I was startled by a loud noise. The shrieking of a woman in ecstasy filled the room, and drew my attention back to the laptop. The video had started playing again, and like clockwork the machine once again began stroking my cock. I wasn't in the mood for a repeat performance, but the machine was insistent. As my dick again filled the sleeve, I began to see the method to this machine's madness. It was programmed to stroke me to orgasm and then wait a certain amount of time before doing it again.

This means that whoever put me here didn't need to be in the room, or even in the same zip code. There was nobody in the room but me. Nobody to kill me when I least expect it. Nobody to rape me. Nobody to let me out of these bindings.

The realization hit me, and fear washed over me again. How long would I be strapped to this stupid thing? Was I going to be here forever? My mind reeled with the thought of spending the rest of my days bound to a machine that didn't think, didn't reason, didn't care - all it wanted was to grind on my cock until I died. I had dumped girlfriends for that same reason.

My thoughts were cut short when I felt a sharp sting across my ass. This machine had more tricks up its sleeve, and I was none too happy about this one.

CRACK!

Again, my ass exploded with pain. My focus shifted to the laptop again, where the video had changed to a rougher scene with a man spanking a woman while fucking her from behind.

CRACK!

A paddle attached to the machine was blazing across my ass every few seconds. I winced each time I heard the relay click to activate it, and lost my breath each time it landed a hit. Maybe this wouldn't be so pleasurable. The pain occupied so much of my conscious thought that I didn't notice that the stroker had increased its pace.

CRACK!

I had been on the machine a lot longer this time - clearly it was not set to operate a specific amount of time. I wondered if the length of each 'session' would increase each time, or if there was some other trigger that would make it stop. I remembered how quickly it had shut off after my last orgasm, and decided to give it a try.

CRACK!

I focused on the video and attempted to thrust with my pelvis against the table. I wanted to fuck this machine into stopping, but clearly it was in control. The best I could do was to get into it and end it as quick as possible. I started shaking, my muscles tensed, and as the paddle hit me one more time...

CRACK!

I came. I came hard. As I expected, the machine powered down and slowed to a stop. The video on the laptop paused as the man landed a hard slap on her ass. I looked at how red - almost purple - that poor woman's ass was, and I imagined that mine didn't look much better. The hand of a machine is much less forgiving than that of a man. I was tired at this point. So tired that I passed out.

--

CRACK!

I would have jumped out of my skin had the leather straps not been holding me so tightly. The machine woke me with a slap on the ass as the stroker began pumping again and the video started playing again. I don't know how long I was out, but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon as evidenced by the little bit of additional light in the room.

CRACK!

I took the chance to look around again, and noticed that there was a lot different in the room than the last time I had been in here. Normally I worked in the shop at night when I couldn't sleep, so it had been about three months since I had last set foot in here. Evidence of lots of work in my absence was everywhere. Scrap metal, wires, wood, leather - whoever bound me here had been using MY shop to build the machine I was bound to.

CRACK!

That fact alone angered me more than the constant assault on my back end. How could I not have noticed? I began to lose focus completely, but another slap on the ass made me realize that I had to keep my head in the game if I wanted to get this machine to rest again. I focused on the video and thought nothing but sexy thoughts. I thrust my hips, I wiggled in my bindings and moaned through my gag.

CRACK!

I must have been out long enough to regain some of my energy, because it didn't take long before I was able to force out another orgasm. This one was barely even enjoyable, but at least it would keep the machine at bay for a while.

CRACK! SLAP!

A new function, this time square across my back. It felt like the machine had a cat o' nine tails attachment, probably set to strike on a timer like the paddle. Why now, though? I had done what the machine wanted, but it showed no signs of slowing down.

CRACK! SLAP!

This time, instead of slowing down, the machine sped up. The stroker was working my cock at a furious pace, and I felt something tighten around the base of my balls. This stupid thing was putting a cock ring on me!

CRACK! SLAP!

My penis was on fire with sensation, and not the good kind. My body was beginning to shake uncontrollably as the sensation built inside of me. I realized now that my captivity was not intended to be enjoyable - at least not to me. As the whip and paddle kept landing hits, the stroker showed no signs of slowing. I thought I was going to pass out, I thought my body was going to fail me, when out of nowhere I felt like I exploded like a nuclear warhead. My vision went black, my muscles seized and spasmed. A huge load of cum exploded from my cock.

I had never had a double orgasm before, but then again I had never been strapped to a machine dedicated to nothing other than taking my body to and beyond its limits. I thought maybe this orgasm would satisfy the machine, but it didn't change in the slightest.

Through eyes that could barely focus, I scanned the room for any hope of release. My eyes landed on a specification sheet for a level sensing fluid container. Maybe I would be free of this machine after all!

The paddle and whip kept firing away at my flesh, to the extent that I feared they would reach bone before I was released. I tried to focus on the porn on the screen. This machine was clearly not going to stop until I filled its reservoir with enough semen to trip the level sensor.

I stared at the screen as the video changed once again. My heart dropped into my stomach when I saw the next scene open. A woman was bound tightly, bent over a saw horse as two other dominatrices brutalized her with whips. If the machine was matching my torment to the level of brutality on the screen, I feared what would come next.

I didn't have to wait long. I felt cold metal jaws clamp down on my nipples and pull. My cock, still rigid from the tight ring, jumped and pressed against the edges of the stroker sleeve. I regained my breath and held it, trying to distract myself from anything but trying to orgasm.

My body shook again as another wave of sensation shot through my body. Another load of hot cum inside this machine, but it still showed no signs of stopping. I tensed as I felt something move behind me. My mind raced as to what it might be, but I didn't have to wait long to find out.

Bound to my torment, I couldn't lurch forward when the machine drove a thick rubber dildo in my ass. It was quite large and stretched my ass so much I thought it would rip me in half. The whip and paddles landed hits as the machine pulled on my nipples with unrelenting force. The dildo in my ass pumped with the rhythm of the stroker on my cock, and I could feel each and every ridge on the dildo as it slid in and out.

It started shallow and as time went on it began driving deeper and deeper. I didn't know how long it was but I swore it had to have been as long as my arm from wrist to elbow, and felt almost as large.

I couldn't take any more. My body was overwhelmed and I was being fucked, beaten, milked, and tortured by this ferocious, unrelenting machine. My cock exploded with the most intense, longest orgasm I'd had yet.

It didn't slow the machine one bit. I gave up, there was not enough energy in my body left to give to this machine.

All at once, I felt the machine change. It began to slow its pace. I felt the gag in my mouth begin to pulse, and reflexively I tried to pull my head back. Suddenly, my mouth was filled with hot cum. The machine shot wave after wave of my own semen into my mouth, and I had no option but to swallow every drop. It must have pumped a quart of hot, sticky liquid down my throat before it went dry and stopped.

I blacked out.

--

I don't know what time it was, or even what day it was when I woke up again. My back and ass were still screaming with pain, my dick was sore and my asshole was burning.

I could, however, move for the first time. I pushed myself up from the table and stretched every muscle in my body. As my eyes regained focus and my legs steadied, I got up from the machine that had been so firmly attached to me for the last day or so.

I stepped back and looked it over. Each attachment looked so much less menacing than I had envisioned them, and the dildo that I imagined as the size of my arm was, in reality, only about the size of my own penis.

I stepped over to the workbench and picked up the blueprints. On top was a sticky note, written in a familiar hand.

"I hope I enjoyed myself. -Me"

I flipped through the blueprints in amazement, and realized why they looked so familiar. The handwriting was mine, the style was mine - every part of these plans were conceived, drawn, annotated and meticulously planned... by me.

I set them back down and knocked over an empty pill bottle. Picking it up, I remembered reading about an interesting side effect to these pills. People reported not remembering things that they had done in the half hour between taking them and falling asleep.

Each night for three months, I had apparently gone out to my workshop, snuck in half an hour of work on this insane project and then gone to bed; only to wake up in the morning none the wiser. I had made myself a surprise gift that I didn't even know I wanted - right under my own nose. Then on the final night, strapped myself in to the machine and set it to start in the morning.

--

"You look like you had a rough weekend!" Laura said on her way to her desk.

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess every medicine has its weird side effects."

"Oh, guess you're gonna stop taking it, then?"

"Nah." I couldn't help but grin a little. "A little surprise now and then makes life interesting."