Landon
I’M PERFECTLY COMFORTABLE BEING an evil little thing, specifically when it comes to sex. As I told Nate before, being on the bottom doesn’t make you submissive.
And sure, being forced into submission is hot as well, but breaking Nate? That is going to be life-changing.
As he drops his backpack and helmet onto the kitchen counter, he sighs, immediately heading for the bathroom.
“I’m taking a shower. I’ll be out soon,” he says blandly, shutting the door behind him.
Any other time, this might have pissed me off a bit. His blatant disregard for me, I mean. But not this time. All he’s doing is leaving me the opportunity to prepare.
I grab my bag and rush into his bedroom just as the shower turns on, and as I’m unpacking my things, I spot the little armchair in the corner of the space.
It’s a light blue, all soft fabric and plush pillows, probably just wide enough to be comfortable for his big body. It’s perfect.
I take a moment to pull it into the center of the room, only a pace or two from where the end of the bed is. Then I continue to search through my bag, keeping all of my supplies at the top but not quite showing. I can’t have him run before the fun starts.
And sure, he’s going to try and fight me on this—and I won’t use coercion, as I fear that’ll switch him from horny to angry in seconds—but I think I can convince him. I think I know exactly what to say to make him fall in line.
A few moments after I finish readying my things, wiping my hands on my jeans to clean them as well as I can, the shower turns off.
Nate comes in in just a towel, exactly how I need him, and eyes the moved chair and my half-closed bag.
“Uh, what is this, Landon?” he asks, his tone stern as he eyes me cautiously.
“Nate,” I breathe out, suddenly incredibly anxious. “I will not use coercion on you; that’s a promise.”
His eyes widen, his hands twitching where he’s holding the towel around his waist. “Uh, okay?”
“But you have to promise to listen to me,” I add, and before he can speak, I continue. “If it becomes too much, slap me twice.”
An evil little grin takes over my features as I use the same tactic that he used on me so long ago. Neither of us is willing to outwardly say we’re weaker than the other; we’re both too prideful, too egotistical to admit defeat where it’s due.
“If what becomes too much?” he questions, and his voice is coating itself slowly in something angry and so sexy.
“Sit,” I tell him, gesturing to the chair. “Without the towel.”
Slowly, and if only so that he’s not perceived as intimidated or scared, Nate listens. He sits tentatively, almost as if he expects the chair to bite him.
“Now what?”
“Now,” I start, reaching into my bag and pulling out the now quarter-empty lube. “I’m going to touch you.”
Falling to my knees in front of him, I pour some of the lube on my palm and begin to massage his soft cock with it.
“S-shit,” he hisses, gripping the arms of the chair as his hips stutter and his shaft begins to harden.
“Perfect,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes from where my hand is rubbing. “I can’t believe you’ve shoved this in me.”
“And made you cry,” Nate adds, his voice strained.
I smirk, rubbing my thumb over his slit as I nod. “Mhm. You did.”
As I finally look up and into his eyes, Nate looks startled. His brows are pinched, a hard frown tugging at his lips.
“You’re being far too agreeable,” he comments cautiously. “What are you scheming, little brat?”
I can’t help but shiver at his words, standing to turn back to my bag. I pull out the vibrating cock sleeve I have already lubed and face him once more.
“It’s not a cage, I promise.”
My words bring him no comfort as he stares at my hands, panting slightly. Nate is glaring, and as he shifts nervously, I feel so triumphant that I could cry.
“Then what is that?” he demands. “A cock sleeve? You want me to fuck myself while you watch or something?”
By the sound of his voice alone, that isn’t something he’s incredibly interested in. But he’s not afraid. Not yet.
“No, no,” I coo, resuming my place between his legs as I force the sleeve over his hard length. It takes some work, due to his size, and by the time I’m done, his head is pulsing and darkened with the rush of blood from the pressure.
“Landon, I swear to god. Tell me exactly—oh fuck!”
The small remote I had shoved into my pocket is now in my hand, and as I turn the vibration up to the medium setting, my mouth waters. His thighs are already starting to shake, his knuckles going white from where he’s gripping the chair.
“Never seen a vibrating cock sleeve before, Nate?” I ask him, my tone sickly sweet. “Must be an old age thing.”
His glare snaps up to meet mine, damn near bearing his teeth at me. “This is not happening.”
“If you can’t handle it, slap the chair twice. Fuck, rip the sleeve off if you must. Just know it says something if you do.” I sound smug, pleased with myself.
And I am. I am so pleased, especially as a clear drizzle of his precome drips down onto his carpet.
“Alright,” he grits out, attempting to hide his snarl with a grin. “I’ll play your stupid fucking game. I’ll soak this sleeve in my come, and then I’m going to rip you to shreds.”
“Oh, you tell ‘em, honey,” I croon, sitting on the edge of the bed as I tick the vibration up a notch.
Nate jolts, his abs tensing as his cock bobs deliciously. “You’re going to regret this, little Lanny. You’re going to be sobbing.”
“I’m sure I am,” I concede. “But until then? Pure bliss.”
Nate stays right where he is, despite not being bound or coerced, and takes the sensation as he groans and grunts against feeling. And I watch, transfixed by the sight of his massive cock in that tight sleeve, and how he never stops leaking.
“Looks like you’re enjoying it, no?” I ask, cocking my head at him.
“Uh-huh,” he mutters. “Loving it.”
It’s spiteful and probably only partially true, but I have patience. I’m just waiting for the real show to start.
“Oh, fuck,” he moans, his hips bucking into the air as his pleasure builds and builds. “I’m close. I’m so close, and you better be scared.”
“I’m shaking in fear, old man,” I tease, spreading my legs to make room for my own hardening length in my jeans.
“Shit. God, fuck. I’m… I’m gonna—ugh!” Nate tenses, his entire body locking up briefly as his hips rise and he comes, shooting rope after rope all over the end of the chair and the carpet below.
“Mmm, that’s good,” I pant out, leaning toward him. “Should have saved a little, though. The next one won’t be nearly as satisfying now.”
“N-next one?” he grits out, his body trembling with the aftershock of his orgasm and the vibration still abusing his length.
His dark hair doesn’t dry from the shower, only growing slicker with sweat as his cat eyes drill into mine.
“Yep,” I say sweetly. “The next one. You see, Nate, both times you’ve fucked me with my cock all locked up, the orgasm felt like dying. Like crumbling. And I think you should feel it too.”
“You’re going to force me to come again?” he asks, breathless and startled as his dick refuses to soften in the sleeve. “That’s your big plan? You’re setting yourself up for—ah, shit—for failure.”
“No,” I chuckle, batting my lashes at him. “Not just one more. Repeatedly. You’re going to come so many times you lose count, and I’m going to watch. I’m going to enjoy it.”
His eyes grow round, more shocked and terrified than I’ve ever seen him, as I free my own cock, massaging it gently. A sick, unfiltered joy surges through me as I notch the vibrator higher again, his head tossing back as a long, desperate groan leaves him.
“Landon! Take it off. Stop this.” Yet he doesn’t reach for the sleeve. He doesn’t remove his hands from the chair, even though he could.
He won’t admit defeat any more than I would.
“But doesn’t it feel so good? Like torture?” I repeat his own words from before, tugging myself hard as his cock spasms, leaking more precome.
He’s vibrating in his own right, his teeth clenched and each hard muscle on display coiled tight.
“You’re a little—ah, fuck, I’m going to come again. Shit, fuck!”
More come spurts from his tip, less than before, but still just as thick and musky as the smell of sex fills the room.
“That’s it. Good boy, Nate,” I praise.
Nate just glares harder, hunching over slightly as he shakes and twitches. “You’re so fucking bad. You’re the worst. I can’t fucking stand you and your inflated fucking ego.”
It seems that cock sleeves are a truth serum in some cases, because Nate is telling me how he really feels now. And to be honest, I don’t like it. This isn’t nearly as pleasing as I thought it would be with him demeaning me like this.
With him openly dissing me.
“Well, that’s mean,” I whisper, my finger slamming into the button on the remote that ups the vibration of his sleeve.
Nate howls, digging his nails into the chair as he stares at me, ready to pounce. “Fucking brat. Such an evil, fucked up person. You don’t deserve my dick; you don’t deserve anything.”
More come shoots from the tip of his dick, but I can’t feel the thrill of it. I can’t feel anything at all.
I’m just staring at him, my expression blank as he moans and shakes before me, totally and completely submitting to the device clinging to him.
And all the while, he insults me. You would think it would drive me, that even this kind of fight would get my blood pumping, but no. My cock softens against my thigh, my heart sinking even lower in my chest as I watch the scene before me.
Then, because he’s making me sad again, I hit the button one last time, taking it to the highest setting.
If I thought for a moment that I could get him back, that I could avenge myself for the cage, I was wrong. I can’t win at all, not with his words affecting me like this.
“You’re being very mean. Don’t say things you don’t mean,” I chastise softly, trying my best to keep my joking, evil edge.
“Oh, but I do mean them,” Nate sneers, his hands now tracing the sleeve as if he wants to rip it off but can’t bring himself to do it. “I mean every fucking word.”