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Manfred follows Damon down into the third basement floor of the police building. There isn’t much down here, a few storage rooms and some pipework. They come to the end of a hallway, a grey steel door illuminated by one flickering bulb, blocking their path. Gant throws a smile at Manfred before turning the handle.
The door creaks open and casts a bar of light into the dark room. The mechanical whir of some device reaches Manfred’s ears before his eyes can adjust and take in the sight before him.
"Well there, Worthy looks like he's been having a good time!" Damon Gant flips a light switch and strides into the room.
Manfred’s eyes widen, but any other trace of emotion remains hidden behind his permanent glare.
In the middle of the room, in the cone of lamplight, is Miles Edgeworth. He is fresh out of law school and already a promising prospect for the courts. His pale form shudders when he hears them enter the room. He is straining to discern who is with Gant from the sound of their footsteps. He is unable to glean anything over the noise of the machine he is riding.
Miles moans and shakes his head but is unable to dislodge the blindfold covering his eyes. He heaves and jerks, panting open-mouthed in his position perched on the Sybian. With his arms bound behind his back and his ankles tied to his thighs, he has no leverage to escape the relentless vibrations of the machine. Streaks of semen dot his stomach and the machine, evidence of more than just one orgasm.
Manfred takes this all in with an air of quiet judgement. Internally he is a boiling mixture of rage and arousal. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Gant got his hands on Miles. The boy is too pretty and stupid for his own good. But he had tried to keep the man at bay; never letting Miles out of his sight and keeping Gant at a distance the last couple of years.
Gant pats Miles on his back and he startles away, but quickly rights himself and gives a choked, "Please."
"Hang in there, Worthy." Gant runs a large hand down Miles' chest and stomach, then pumps at his rigid cock. "Ah, to be young. Have you come more than once? It looks like it. They stop feeling good after a while."
A litany of moans and pleading pours from the young prodigy's reddened lips. He shouts a curse when Gant releases his cock. He is unable to stop his hips from moving in his frustrated state.
"Manny! What do you think? I do love watching boys struggle. Does he know how to swim? He could come over for lessons."
Ice shoots through Miles’ veins at the mention of his mentor. He can’t imagine what Manfred must be thinking of him. He should have listened and stayed at his side, he shouldn’t have let Damon Gant touch him.
"That won't be necessary. Of course he knows how to swim." Manfred swallows thickly, eyes never leaving Miles. He quells his arousal with his anger. Even if he will readily admit that the boy has tested his resolve over the years, he needs Miles to be a functioning individual, not some cowed fool that only knows how to say ‘yes, sir’ and suck cock every time it’s asked of him.
"Oh, then he can come use the pool! I have a diving board and a slide. You too, Manny, swimming is good for your health!"
Manfred doesn't deign to answer and keeps his stone-cold expression even as Damon lifts the blindfold from Miles' head. The young man's eyes are welled up with tears and red to match his burning face. As soon as he meets Manfred's gaze, he turns his head away.
"How long has he been down here?"
"A couple of hours, give or take. He wasn't riding that the whole time, you know. He cried as soon as I put the nipple clamps on him, then he begged me to take them off. So I gave him an alternate option." He runs large palms over Miles' thighs, then grabs his hips to press him down harder against the machine. "It was his choice, you see."
Miles gasps and arches back. Any words he might attempt are pushed out when his lungs release, and he screams from the overstimulation. His world narrows down to the pinpoint of painful pleasure. He wants to stop. He needs to come. The arrival of his mentor signals that at least one of those things will happen. And he aches for both despite the humiliation of being caught in such a state.
"You did not tell me you wanted to use him for this, Damon," Manfred's voice cuts through the stifling atmosphere of the room, anger apparent in his clipped tone, "though I could have guessed. You never are one to ask permission or consent."
"Now, now, Manny. I'm giving him the warm greeting all up-and-coming members of law enforcement should receive. My apologies for not going to you first, but you know how it is…" Damon releases his bruising grip and steps away from Miles with a warm, friendly smile. "You come over anytime you want to take a dip, Worthy."
Before Manfred or Miles can respond, the man ruffles Miles' already mussed silver hair and leaves with the door creaking closed behind him.
That ridiculous fool, Manfred fumes, he will ruin my plans before I can set them into motion. I need Edgeworth to be in top shape.
He tamps down his anger before he approaches his protégé. He will have to help the boy recover from this and keep him on track. His eyes run over Miles’ trembling form, landing on his thighs. They are still flushed where Damon had squeezed and pinched at the skin. He swallows back a groan.
"It's alright, Miles. I will get you down from that thing and take you home. You can have a day to recover. How do I turn this blasted thing off?"
He follows the cord to the wall and yanks it out. The machine stops at once and Miles slumps with an audible groan of relief. Manfred observes him for a moment before deciding that untying his arms is the first thing that must be done.
Miles holds back his desperate panting as his mentor undoes the rope at his wrists. He looks down at himself and winces with embarrassment. He is covered in bite marks and his own semen, his nipples are red-raw, and his cock is still pulsing. He tries to calm his breathing, but knowing von Karma’s eyes are on him leaves him ever more on edge. He has always felt naked when the man looked at him, always knew that he was just on the very cusp of something… dark when he was alone with him. The thought does nothing to lessen the fire in his veins.
Once his arms are free he lets them hang, so that the feeling can come back into his fingers and his shoulders can adjust. He can feel Manfred working at the rope on his left thigh, but he turns his head the other way. If Manfred has any thoughts about his erection, Miles doesn't want to see them in the older man’s expression. It is already a cruel twist of morality that he is hard and wanting even now, bathed in the icy cold glare of the man he has so disappointed.
Manfred lauds himself for being able to handle his young charge with the grace of someone who is not exploding with rage internally. Years in the courtroom have necessitated the ability to maintain a calm façade. Something he finds useful in all aspects of his life - with special regard to the son of his deceased rival.
He helps Miles extend his leg slowly. It is doubtful that the boy will be able to walk anytime soon, and Miles would agree with that sentiment. He makes quick work of the next leg, then contemplates how to get the young man off of the device. He would prefer to touch him as little as possible. While he has been able to remain at arm’s length for years now, he can feel that resolve crumbling.
Miles is sitting at about chest height with his legs dangling, unable to reach the floor. Damon is a large, strong man. It's no wonder how he got him up there. Manfred is no slouch himself; he will just have to bear the brunt of the weight on his good shoulder and pull him down. He resigns himself, wrapping an arm around Miles' waist and starting to drag him off to the side, when Miles cowers away from him.
"S-stop, please… I'm going… there's a…"
"What is it, boy? Speak clearly."
Miles’ face reddens further and he grabs at his left elbow. He is still hard and growing ever more sensitive from the gentle handling of the typically distant man. It's so wrong, disgusting even, but his ass had clenched and his cock jerked when Manfred had grabbed him.
"There's a dildo. Inside me. It's attached to the machine."
The silence drags on. He can't bear to meet von Karma's gaze.
"You will need to use your arms." Manfred moves to stand in front of him, then guides Miles' hands to his shoulders.
"Sir, I don't think…" Miles still can't look at him. He shudders when cold fingers curl around his waist. He takes the hint and attempts to push up and off the dildo. It's thick and hits all of the right spots on the way out. He can't hold in a whorish moan as he is pulled up and off of it.
An orgasm hits as von Karma is guiding him to the floor. His hips jolt and his cock waves up and down as fruitless contractions try to push out semen that isn't there. He had been spent long ago.
"I'm sorry!" he gasps out. Mortification doesn't come close to what he is feeling. But he is too tired to do anything more than lie on the concrete.
Manfred stands over him and watches as the last twitches of his cock finally stop. The boy is beautiful like this, but this debauchery was not his design. If Damon Gant has ruined his protégé, he will need a new plan. One that would ensure that man never gets in his way again.