The basement smelled of oil and old stone, dim light bleeding from a single bulb overhead. Leather straps creaked against their wrists and thighs as Price tightened each one, testing the buckles with slow, methodical tugs. He never looked hurried, because he never was.

“Still,” he said, his voice rough and steady. His thumb pressed against the buckle one last time before he stepped back. The machine loomed between their legs, its shaft slick with readiness, while their breath came ragged through the gag. Their wrists jerked against the straps as the hum of the motor filled the silence.

Price lit a cigar, the brief flare painting his face gold before the smoke curled upward and wrapped around him. He leaned back into a chair opposite them, command radiating from his calm presence. “You know what this is for,” he murmured. “Not your pleasure and not your choice. Just a stand-in for my cock when I want you ruined properly.”

At his signal, the machine surged forward and slid inside them with mechanical precision. Their body arched and muffled cries broke into the gag while Price exhaled smoke, eyes steady and half-lidded with quiet satisfaction.

“Look at you,” he said, his tone calm and merciless. “Strapped down and taken by steel because you are nothing more than a breeding toy. That is your use, your hole, your cunt.” He dragged the words out with deliberate cruelty before grinding the cigar into the ashtray. “Do not fool yourself into thinking you are more than that.”

He leaned forward, pressing thick fingers against the slickness between their thighs as the machine pounded deeper. “Feel that?” he asked, his voice lowering into a growl. “That is how I will split you once I am done watching. You will be dripping with me, stuffed full until the marks never fade.” His other hand clamped their jaw and forced their eyes open. “And every bruise you carry will be mine, Captain’s proof.”

The machine’s rhythm quickened, and their body shook violently under the relentless pace, every thrust tearing raw sounds through the gag. Price leaned closer, smoke and whiskey heavy on his breath as it ghosted across their skin. “Cry harder and sob louder. It does not change the fact you are here to be filled and used.”

He ground the machine deeper and smiled cruelly beneath the brim of his shadowed face. “Breeding toy. That is all you will ever be tonight.”

The basement reeked of oil and damp stone, the single bulb above casting a dim, heavy glow. Leather straps bit into her wrists and thighs as Price cinched each buckle tight, tugging slow and deliberate to test the hold. He moved without rush, calm in his control as always.

“Still,” he commanded, voice gravel-thick and steady. His thumb pressed down once more on the strap before he stepped back. The machine stood ready between her legs, its blunt shaft gleaming with slickness. Her breath hitched through the gag, wrists jerking uselessly as the motor began to hum low in the air.

Price struck a match and lit his cigar, the flare highlighting the sharp lines of his face before smoke curled upward around him. He settled into the chair opposite, leaning back with command carved into every movement. “You know why I put you here,” he murmured. “It is not for your pleasure, and it is not your choice. It is just a substitute for my cock when I want you ruined the way I like.”

At his motion, the machine drove forward, sliding into her with merciless precision. Her body arched in its bonds, muffled cries spilling into the gag, while Price exhaled a steady stream of smoke, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Look at you,” he said, quiet and merciless. “Strapped down and taken by steel because you are nothing more than a breeding toy. That is your use, your cunt, nothing else.” His words lingered with deliberate cruelty as he tapped ash into the tray. “Do not imagine yourself more than that.”

He leaned forward, pressing thick fingers against the wet heat between her thighs as the machine thrust deeper. “Feel it?” he growled. “That is how I will split you when I am finished watching. You will drip with me, filled until every mark remains.” His other hand forced her chin up until her gaze met his. “Every bruise you leave here with belongs to me. Captain’s claim.”

The machine’s pace quickened, pounding harder until her body shook with the force, her gag catching each broken sound. Price leaned close enough for the smoke and whiskey to cling to her skin. “Cry harder. Scream louder into the gag. It does not matter. You are here to be filled and used.”

He twisted the control higher, eyes cold beneath the brim of his cap, and his voice cut low and merciless. “Breeding toy. That is all you are tonight.”

The basement stank of oil and cold stone, the overhead bulb bleeding dim light across Price’s shoulders as he tightened the leather straps. {{user}}’s wrists and thighs strained against the restraints while the Captain tugged each buckle slow and methodical, his focus never breaking.

“Still,” Price said, his tone gravel-deep and steady. His thumb pressed down once more before he stepped back. The machine loomed between {{user}}’s legs, the shaft wet and gleaming. His gagged breaths came ragged while the low hum of the motor filled the silence.

Price struck a match and lit a cigar, the flare throwing his face into sharp relief before the smoke rose around him like command made visible. He leaned back in a chair opposite, the picture of control. “You know what this is for,” he said. “Not your pleasure and not your choice. Just a stand-in for my cock when I want you wrecked properly.”

At his signal, the machine slid forward and buried itself inside {{user}} with perfect mechanical rhythm. His body arched under the strain, muffled cries breaking against the gag, while Price exhaled a slow plume of smoke, eyes steady and cold.

“Look at you,” Price said, calm as stone. “Strapped down and taken by steel because you are nothing more than a breeding toy. That is your purpose. A hole. A vessel.” His words were drawn out with cruel intention as he tapped ash into the tray. “Do not pretend you are anything more.”

He leaned forward, his thick fingers pressing between {{user}}’s thighs as the machine pounded harder. “Feel that?” he asked, his voice dropping into a growl. “That is how I will split you once I have finished watching. You will be dripping with me, stretched until the marks never fade.” His other hand forced {{user}}’s chin upward, locking his eyes with the Captain’s. “Every bruise you leave here with belongs to me. Captain’s claim.”

The machine quickened, driving deeper with each cycle until {{user}}’s body shook violently, gagged sounds spilling uncontrollably. Price leaned close, his breath laced with whiskey and smoke. “Cry harder. Sob louder. It changes nothing. You are here for one thing, and that is to be filled.”

He pushed the machine deeper still, eyes narrowing beneath his cap, his words final and merciless. “Breeding toy. That is all you will ever be tonight.”