Chapter Eleven #2
I gasp, my eyes rolling back in my head.
I don’t even have to touch myself. My cock pulses hard against the marble counter, and I start spurting thick ropes of cum all over the stone.
I whine helplessly, my hips jerking as I ride out the intense, hands-free orgasm.
My thighs tremble uncontrollably, and I just lay there panting, my cheek glued to the counter, making a total mess of myself.
Ryker laughs as I burn with embarrassment, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. I’ve never come like that in my entire life, just from having a toy pushed into me.
Ryker slaps my already sore ass cheek, a sharp smack that makes me flinch and yelp.
“That’ll also keep my cum right where it belongs,” Ryker says, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
He taps his finger against the wide base of the plug lodged between my cheeks.
“If you insist on working, you’re going to do it with our mark on you.
Every single time you go to that store, you need to have one of us fill you up first, and you keep the plug in all day. ”
I swallow hard, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. Going to work with this thing inside me, walking around a store full of customers while carrying a load of his cum, sounds insane. The thought of it sends a fresh spike of heat through my stomach.
Ryker leans down, his mouth right next to my ear, his tone dropping into a dangerous, commanding growl.
“I’m going to check you when you get home.
I’m going to pull this plug out and make sure all that cum is still in there.
That way I know you aren’t letting anyone else use this tight little slut hole while we’re apart. Understand?”
I shiver, squirming my hips in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the deep pressure inside me. “Yes,” I whisper, nodding my head against the counter.
“Good boy,” Ryker says. He finally lifts his hand from the back of my neck and steps back, letting me up.
I push myself off the counter slowly, my legs wobbly and unstable.
I reach down and pull my boxers and slacks up over my hips, wincing at the invasive, heavy feeling of the plug resting between my cheeks.
It makes me feel unbelievably full, every tiny movement rubbing the silicone against my internal walls.
I zip my pants, keeping my head ducked, still panting heavily.
When I finally look up, Ash and Aiden are both grinning at me from the island. They look a bit too pleased with the situation.
Ryker turns to them as he bucks his belt back into place. “You two are expected to check him and fill him up as needed too. We need to make sure nobody else is using our rent boy.”
Ash smiles warmly, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “My pleasure.”
Aiden smirks, lifting his hand in a mocking, sarcastic salute. “Aye aye, captain.”
Ryker doesn’t say much when he drops me off in front of the store, just reaches across the console, grips the back of my neck, and pulls me in for a filthy, wet kiss. He bites my bottom lip, smirking when I squirm in the passenger seat, the silicone toy shifting uncomfortably between my cheeks.
“Make some sales, slut,” he murmurs.
I stumble out of the Rover, my face burning as I walk through the glass doors of the retailer.
Every step presents a new challenge. The wide base of the plug rubs my sensitive skin, keeping me stretched open.
When I walk, the silicone shifts, pressing against my prostate and making my knees weak.
But worse than the toy is the slippery warmth of Ryker’s cum sloshing around inside my belly.
I feel it sliding against the walls of my ass, trapped there by the plug.
Learning the ropes takes up my morning. The air conditioning in the store blasts cool air against my neck, but beneath my new slacks, I’m burning up.
My manager puts me on the floor greeting customers and organizing the display tables.
I try to put on my best customer service smile, pretending I’m a normal guy working a normal retail job, but I’m struggling to form legible sentences.
I spend an hour folding denim jeans on a display table, and every time I lean across the wood surface, the silicone base grinds between my cheeks.
A middle-aged woman asks me for a size medium in the polo shirts, and I have to squat down to search the lower shelves.
Bending my knees pushes the plug agonizingly deep.
A soft, breathless whine slips past my lips automatically.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from dropping to my hands and knees in the men’s section.
I hand her the shirt with a trembling hand, praying she doesn’t notice the flush creeping up my neck.
By the time my lunch break rolls around, I’m a desperate, sweating mess. I hurry to the employee restrooms and lock myself inside the last stall.
My hands shake as I unbutton my slacks and shove them down my thighs, along with my boxers.
My cock leaks pre-cum, stiff and aching against my stomach.
I drop onto the toilet seat, tossing my head back against the metal partition.
I can’t take the plug out. Ryker would know.
He warned me he’d check. But I have to do something about the aching need pooled in my groin.
I wrap my hand around my hard cock and start pumping. It feels good but also maddening. Every time I stroke myself, the muscles of my ass clench around the plug, squeezing the slippery mess of Ryker’s cum deeper into my gut. I pant into the empty bathroom, my hips bucking off the plastic seat.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my voice rough.
I stroke faster, milking my cock, riding the deep internal pressure of the toy.
I picture Ryker’s dark smirk, the way he shoved me over the island this morning.
The humiliation mixed with the stretching fullness pushes me over the edge.
I spurt hot cum all over my stomach and the front of my shirt, whining into the quiet stall.
I spend the next ten minutes using paper towels to clean myself up, breathing hard, hoping the flush fades from my face before I have to go back to the sales floor. It takes the edge off, but my ass still aches, the toy stubbornly wedged in place.
The rest of the shift drags on forever. When I finally clock out and walk out to the curb, it’s Ash not Ryker waiting for me in his BMW. I slide into the passenger seat with a muffled groan, shifting my weight to keep the pressure off my sore hole.
Ash pulls away from the curb, glancing over at me with a knowing smile. “Rough first day?”
“You have no idea,” I grumble, gripping the door handle as the car hits a bump in the road. The jolt drives the plug against my sweet spot, making me gasp.
Ash laughs, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea. You’re squirming like a worm on a hook over there.”
“It’s not funny, Ash. I spent the last eight hours stocking shelves with Ryker’s cum leaking around a piece of silicone,” I complain, though there’s a desperate whine creeping into my voice. “My ass is so sore.”
“You survived, didn’t you?” Ash says smoothly, turning the wheel to merge onto the street. “And you look great in those pants. I told you they’d fit.”
I glare at the dashboard, my body strung tight with a mixture of exhaustion and lingering arousal.
When we get back to the penthouse, I follow Ash inside and drop my bag by the door. I don’t even make it to the kitchen before I grab his arm, stopping him in the hallway.
“Ash, please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “Take it out. It’s driving me crazy.”
Ash turns to face me, his brown eyes soft but unyielding. He steps close, cupping my jaw and pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to my lips. He tastes like peppermint and coffee. I lean into him, my hands gripping his waist, hoping he’ll take pity on me.
He pulls back, his thumb stroking my cheek. “No way, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” I whine, dropping my forehead against his shoulder. “Ryker’s not even home yet.”
“Exactly,” Ash chuckles, his hands sliding down to give my ass a firm squeeze, pressing the toy deeper and making me whimper. “Ryker put it in, so Ryker takes it out. I’m not risking my own ass by pissing him off. You know how he gets when people mess with his rules.”
“But it aches,” I complain, twisting my hips against his grip. “I can’t even sit down normally.”
“You’ll live,” Ash teases, stepping out of my grasp and heading for the kitchen. He opens the fridge, peering inside. “Come on, Jaxon. You did a good job today. Let me distract you with some food. You want me to heat up some leftover takeout?”
I groan in misery, shuffling after him like a kicked puppy. “I guess,” I mutter, leaning against the counter—carefully this time, stuck carrying Ryker’s load a little while longer.
I pace the length of the kitchen island while I wait, shifting my weight from one foot to the other in a restless, agitated loop.
Sitting’s off the table. The wide silicone base wedges agonizingly between my cheeks every time I bend my knees, keeping me on edge and hyper-aware of my stretched hole.
Every tiny movement rubs the toy against my prostate, sending fresh sparks of heat through my system.
The front door beeps, a loud electronic chirp echoing through the penthouse.
I jump, abandoning the glass of water I was holding. I hurry down the hall, my pulse hammering. I expect to see Ryker’s scowl and dark clothes, ready to drop to my knees and beg him the second he crosses the threshold.
But it isn’t Ryker. Aiden steps through the entryway, slinging a gym bag off his shoulder, his hair damp with sweat from training.
He looks up, catching sight of my flushed, frantic face. He bursts out laughing, dropping his bag onto the hardwood floor.