Chapter 2: Noob
The text notification pierced through the last remnants of sleep, a sharp, digital chirp that made Billy flinch. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, knocking over an empty glass. The screen glowed with a message from his mum, sent over an hour ago.
There was a parcel for you. James text to say he’d sent you some gaming things. Love him! Love you, sweetie. See you at dinner ❤️❤️❤️
His heart gave a single, hard thump against his ribs. He was out of bed in an instant, the worn floorboards cool under his bare feet. He pulled the door open, the hallway light stinging his eyes. There it was: a larger, plain brown box than he’d expected, sitting just outside the sanctum of his room.
He dragged it inside, locking the door again, the bolt sliding home with a comforting thud. The room smelled of him, of sleep and stale lube. He used the pocketknife he kept on his bedside table to slit the tape, his hands trembling slightly.
Nestled inside, packed in pristine moulded foam, was the machine, sealed and boxed. It said it was lightweight, discreet, a smooth, black plastic shell with a silicone sleeve. Beneath it were two other items: a heavy plastic tub of "Goon Lube" and a bag of supplements. He read the label on the pills: a mixture of Zinc, Magnesium, Pygeum, Sunflower Lecithin, and Selenium. For Men's Health, it said.
Another alert chimed from his phone. A direct message from GoonerBro69 within the game's Discord server.
Delivery has arrived. I sent some extras. The pills make your loads massive. Don't take too many, bro. Love you.
The words love you echoed in the quiet room, a ghost from the night before. He stared at the message, his mind a blank screen. He typed This is amazing bro, love you too - deleted it. I've seen these before, so stoked to try - deleted that too. You didn't have to - also deleted. His fingers finally settled on, Thanks, looking forward to later.
The reply was almost instantaneous. I was thinking about last night in the work bathrooms this morning. Favourite gooning spot, bro.
A vivid, unbidden image flashed in Billy’s mind: James, in a crisp shirt, trousers around his ankles, sitting in a corporate bathroom stall, hand wrapped around his cock. Billy’s own cock, which had been soft, thickened and hardened so fast it was almost painful, straining against the loose cotton of his boxers. He didn’t know how to reply to that. He left the message there, a pulsing, obscene secret on his screen.
He studied the supplements first. The instructions said to take with food. He hadn't eaten but he dry-swallowed two of the large capsules, the smooth shells going down easily. Then he examined the Goon Lube. It was a thick, viscous, clear substance that clung to the sides of the tub when he tilted it. The label promised it would last for hours, enhance sensation, as well and protect and moisturise the skin. In smaller print, it mentioned it was also great for anal play and sex. Billy ignored that part.
Then, the toy. His hands were almost shaking with a nervous, electric excitement. He was rarely ever good with new things. New foods, new people, new routines—they were landmines. But this was different. This was a key to a door James had not only opened, but was helping him step through.
He paused for a moment. The pills had said not to take on an empty stomach, which he had. Breakfast, then. A quick, tepid shower, where he consciously avoided his usual morning wank, the water feeling like needles on his oversensitive skin. He headed downstairs. The house was quiet, hollow. He grabbed a banana and a yogurt, eating them standing at the kitchen counter, the silence a physical pressure in his ears.
Back upstairs, behind the locked door, the world narrowed again. He opened the toy, his breath catching at the high-tech sheen of it. He slathered a generous glob of the Goon Lube into the silicone sleeve, the substance cool and thick as it coated the inside. He positioned the mouth of the sleeve over the head of his cock, his thick, veined shaft already leaking pre-cum. He turned it on.
He started on a medium setting, a slow, rhythmic pulsation that made his toes curl. But the anticipation was too much. His thumb flicked the dial, pushing it to max speed and vibration. The machine whirred to life, a hungry, mechanical sound. The silicone lips clamped down, sucking and vibrating with an intensity that was almost brutal.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking off the chair. The sensation was too much, too fast, a relentless, artificial mouth milking him. It was nothing like his hand. It was overwhelming. His balls tightened, the familiar coiling heat erupting in a shockwave. "Shit! I'm— I'm cumming!"
He came in less than five minutes, a thick, hot rush that pulsed into the machine, his body seizing up. He groaned, a long, ragged sound as the orgasm ripped through him. But as the last shudder passed, something was different. His cock, which would usually be quickly softening, slipping into flaccidity, remained semi-erect, trapped in the still-vibrating sleeve, twitching and oversensitive but stubbornly hard.
He turned the machine off, panting. He pulled his cock out, glistening with lube and his own spend. He didn't clean it. He just set the toy up again, enjoying the thought of the cum-slicked insides. He settled into his gaming chair, the leather cool against his back. He started up the game, the familiar title music swelling. He positioned the toy, now set to a low, teasing thrum, and let it go to work.
He lost the next four hours to the slow, constant stimulation. The game world, usually a refuge of absolute focus, became a blurry backdrop. He’d be navigating a treacherous cliff path, and the toy would switch to a subtle suction mode, making his breath hitch and his grip on the controller falter. He’d be in the middle of a boss fight, and a particularly deep vibration would cause his character to stand still, helpless, as a giant axe slammed down.
He was edging, bating, gooning, his consciousness split between the digital landscape and the relentless, low-grade pleasure working on his cock. He’d get close, so close he could see the white behind his eyes, and then he’d force himself to focus on a puzzle, on inventory management, on anything to stave off the end. The Goon Lube lived up to its promise, keeping everything slick, the sensations fresh and maddening, and stopped his dick from chafing. He managed some play time, his character dying repeatedly in easy areas because he kept losing focus, his mind dissolving into a primal hum of need, the phantom sound of James’s voice in his ear, the memory of those two words.
Love you.
His phone chimed, the same tone as this morning. A new message from GoonerBro69 flashed on the screen. "DON'T FORGET TO TAKE A BREAK. I DON'T WANT MY BRO'S BALLS EMPTY WHEN I LOG ON LATER".
Billy giggled, a soft, breathy sound in the quiet. He realized he’d already cum three times, the evidence a sticky, viscous fluid churning around the base of his dick, all over his balls and the towel over his chair and pooled inside the toy’s sleeve. He loved the feeling, the filthy proof of his indulgence. But the pull of enjoying that release with James, of sharing it, was stronger. He decided to clean up.
He detached the toy, wiping himself and the machine with a damp cloth, rinsing and cleaning with hot water until the stickiness was gone. The act felt strangely ceremonial. He pulled on a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt, the clean fabric a minor shock against his oversensitive skin. He took a deep breath and unlocked his door.
The hallway seemed brighter, louder. He could hear the faint murmur of the television from the living room downstairs. His mum and dad were surprised, their faces lighting up with cautious hope when he shuffled in and sat on the far end of the sofa. "Everything alright, love?" Jean asked, her voice soft.
"Yeah. Just... fancied a change," Billy mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest.
They chatted about nothing much—the weather, a show his mum was watching. His dad, Carl, mentioned something about work. Billy mostly listened, the normalcy of it a bizarre contrast to the last few hours in his room. During dinner, he even managed to eat at the table with them, pushing his food around but taking actual bites.
His mum, beaming, finally asked, "So what did James send you? His text said it was some gaming things?"
Billy’s mind, usually a tangled mess under scrutiny, produced the lie instantly. "A really cool figurine. Of a character from Aethelgard's Fall. I’ve wanted it for a while but it's limited edition and hard to find."
Jean’s face melted into a look of profound relief. "Oh, that is so thoughtful of him! Isn't that thoughtful, Carl?"
Carl nodded, a small, genuine smile on his face. "It is. Sounds like you might be making a friend there, son."
Billy just grinned, a hot flush creeping up his neck. He didn't know what to say. The lie felt like a shield, protecting the raw, secret truth of what was really in that box. Before he headed back upstairs, his mum called out, "Make sure you make it up to James. Be grateful!"
"Yes Mum, I will," he said as he ascended the stairs, the words feeling like a vow.
It was 8 p.m. The silence of his room welcomed him back, a familiar pressure. A notification glowed on his phone, left on the desk. From GoonerBro69: "I'M IN MY CAVE AND READY WHENEVER YOU FEEL UP TO LOGGING ON, BRO".
Billy logged on immediately. James's voice filled his headset, smooth and warm. "Hey bro. So? What's the verdict?"
The barriers in Billy’s mind were just gone. The words tumbled out in a rush. "It's insane, bro. The suction on the highest setting... I came so fast the first time. I’ve just had it on a low thrum all afternoon, bro, just... going. It’s fucking relentless."
James’s low laugh was a vibration in Billy’s ear. "Told you, bro. That thing is a goddamn miracle worker. You must be empty, now, surely, bro."
"Usually cum five times a day, bro," Billy said, the confession feeling liberating. "So we're good."
"Good man. Hey, have you noticed... a change in your cum, bro?" James asked, his tone shifting to one of clinical curiosity. "The supplements should be kicking in."
Billy glanced at the toy, still slick from his last session. "I've only cum in the toy so I haven't really noticed. It was all... in there."
They started playing, falling into the easy rhythm of the game, their characters moving in sync. They discussed spell combinations and loot drops, the conversation normal, almost mundane. Forty minutes in, as they cleared a dungeon, James's voice took on a familiar, commanding edge. "Alright, bro. Time to dock our ships."
Billy new exactly what James meant as his heart rate kicked up. He reached for the tub of Goon Lube, scooping out a large, clear glob. He slathered it over his cock, the thick substance cool and clinging. He heard the faint, mechanical whir of James's own toy activating through the headset.
"Fuck, this lube is something else," Billy breathed, positioning the humming mouth of the sleeve over his head.
"Tell me about it," James grunted. "Feels like it's pulling the cum right out of my balls. You on max?"
"No, I'm staying away from that slut," Billy said, his words fumbling slightly, unused to such blatant talk. He flicked the dial. The machine slowly gripped and then slid over his cock with a sensual, sucking intensity that made his vision blur. "Oh shit! That's my jam. Three is perfect, bro"
"Good one bro. Three is mine too. Let it milk you, bro. Just let it fucking take it."
They played for another 40 minutes, occasionally commenting on the game, the toy, how their cocks felt. Then James's breaths were becoming ragged, punctuated by the wet, mechanical sounds from his end. "I'm thinking about you in your messy room, bro, with that toy sucking your big dick. You're such a greedy little gooner, aren't you, bro?"
The filthy words, paired with the machine's relentless rhythm, pushed Billy to the edge instantly. "Yes," he gasped, his hips lifting off the chair. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum, bro!"
"Wait, bro" James commanded, his voice sharp. "Not yet. I want to see it, bro. Turn on your camera."
The request hit Billy like a physical blow. His eyes flew open. The camera. The little lens above his monitor. He never used it. Never. The outside world didn't get to see inside his cockcoon.
"Billy." James's voice was softer now, but no less insistent. "It's just me. Your bro. I want us both to see whether the pills are working. And I bet you look fucking hot gooning out over there. Let me see you lose control."
A tremor ran through Billy's entire body. The fear was a cold spike, but beneath it was a hotter, darker current of want. His hand, trembling, moved to the keyboard. He clicked the icon to enable his video feed. A small window popped up, showing a pale, wide-eyed face, the desk lamp casting deep shadows.
"Good boy," James purred. "Now show me, bro."
Billy angled the webcam down, the focus blurring before sharpening on his lap, on his thick, lubed-up cock being violently sucked by the black machine. The obscene image was being transmitted, watched. "Fuck, bro," he whimpered.
"That's it, bro. I see you. You're so fucking hot, bro." James's voice was a ragged groan now. "I'm gonna cum watching you, bro. Now. You're going to cum for me. But we need to see that load, bro. Time it right. Pull out just before you start releasing, bro."
The permission was all he needed. Billy’s body convulsed, a raw, guttural shout tearing from his throat as his orgasm slammed into him and he wrenched the toy away, fluids spraying out as he did. This was definitely different. Thicker, heavier, a massive, pearlescent load that pulsed over Billy's hairy body, leaving ropes of white milky ooze dampening his thatched torso. His dick kept twitching, milking out every last drop.
"Jesus Christ," James breathed, followed by his own choked roar. "Look at that. The supplements... fuck, Billy. Look what you did."
Billy, panting and spent, looked down at the evidence. His slender, hairy body was splattered with a thick, opaque white fluid, much more than he’d ever produced before. It was a shocking, visceral proof of the change. He stared at it, then back at the camera feed, at the little green light indicating he was still being watched. He didn't move to turn it off. He just sat there, exposed, completely and utterly owned.
"Look at that mess all over you, bro. So much bro juice, bro," James's voice purred through the headset, pulling Billy from his daze. "Be a good gooner and clean yourself up. Use your mouth, bro."
The command landed not as a shock but as an inevitable next step. Billy’s eyes, still hazy with pleasure, dropped to the thick, creamy streaks cooling on his hands. He leaned forward, his tongue, tentative at first in front of James, quickly darted out to lap at a glob of his own cum. The taste was salty, slightly bitter, uniquely his. A shiver, part revulsion and part dark thrill, ran through him as he swallowed in plain sight of his bro.
"Good boy," James murmured, the approval in his voice a warm drug. "Get it all, bro."
Billy obeyed, his fingers collecting the fluids, his tongue working in broad, messy strokes over his hand and arm to gather the evidence of his own massive load. He cleaned his skin, the act itself a deeper form of submission than the camera had been. The sticky residue coated his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
"Fuck, that's hot, bro," James complemented him, the mechanical whir from his end picking up pace. "You like the taste of your own spunk, don't you, bro? You're a filthy fucking bro, bro."
Billy just moaned in response, his cock, impossibly, beginning to stir again against his thigh.
"Hey," James said, his tone shifting to something more conversational, though strained. "I was wondering... are you interested in seeing my load? No worries if not, bro. Just thought I'd return the favour."
Billy hadn't considered it, not really. But now the idea was lodged in his brain, bright and demanding. Watching his GoonerBro, seeing the source of that commanding voice lose control, was suddenly all he wanted. "Yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Please. Show me, bro."
"Camera's on, bro."
The feed on Billy's screen flickered, and then James filled the frame. Naked in his towel-covered gaming chair, James was a different man. The controlled therapist was stripped bare to reveal the raw physicality beneath. His broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest, previously hinted at beneath tailored shirts, were now on full display, a sculpted testament to disciplined workouts. A light sheen of oil glistened on his skin, catching the blue glow of his monitor and highlighting every defined ridge of his fat, meaty pecs and solid abdomen.
A thick, dark trail of chest hair ran down his torso, leading the eye to the powerful V of his hips and his thick, sturdy thighs. His face, however, retained its characteristic blend of ruggedness and approachability, the sharp intelligence in his blue eyes, still framed by his glasses, undimmed by the primal sensuality of his naked body. The gaming chair, designed for comfort and support, seemed almost comically inadequate to contain his powerful frame.
His cock was thick and heavy, resting against his thigh, a vein pulsing along its length. It was buried deep in the same model of toy, the black plastic casing a stark contrast against his tanned skin. The machine's hungry whine was clearly audible.
"Getting close watching you clean up," James grunted, his hand gripping the armrest. "So fucking close."
With a wet, sucking sound, he pulled his slick, hard cock from the toy's grasp. His fist replaced the machine, stroking fast and rough. "This is for you, bro. All for you."
Billy's own hand was already wrapped around his re-hardened dick, jerking in time with the image on the screen. The mixture of leftover Goon Lube and his own cum made obscenely wet, slick noises as he fisted himself.
James's body went rigid. A guttural, unrestrained roar erupted from him as the first thick rope of cum shot from his tip, splattering across his own oiled stomach. More followed, pulse after white pulse, painting his skin, a stark, milky contrast against the dark hair and tanned flesh. "Fuck! Bro!"
The raw visual, the proof of James's pleasure, was too much. Billy's orgasm ripped through him with a violence that stole his breath, seized his body and removed his eyesight, his own cum splashing over his already soiled skin, his nervous system shorting out as he watched his bro finish.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged panting. Then James laughed, a breathless, genuine sound. "Jesus. Look at you. You just keep going and going. I'm jealous, man. I only get time for two or three of those a day."
Billy looked down at the new mess he'd made, then back at James's glistening, cum-streaked torso on the screen. A slow, weary smile spread across his face. They both started laughing, both showing their weird awkwardness easily, no need to cover it up, just a soft, shared sound of exhaustion and bizarre camaraderie.
They cleaned up, turned their cameras off, and fell back into the game. For the next two hours, they farmed runes and tackled a few minor bosses, the conversation easy, the earlier intensity settled into a comfortable hum. As the clock neared 1 a.m., yawns began to interrupt their strategizing.
"I should hit the sack," James said, his voice thick with sleep. "Work shit tomorrow."
"Okay," Billy replied, the hollow feeling from the night before beginning to creep back in. But this time, he decided to fight it. Before James could speak again, Billy pushed the words out, his heart hammering. "Love you, bro."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, a beat of silence that stretched Billy's nerves taut. Then James's voice came back, softer than Billy had ever heard it. "Love you more, bro."
The click of James logging off was final. Billy sat in the silence, the words echoing, filling the empty spaces in his room and in his head. He didn't just feel seen anymore. He felt something else, something terrifying and new. The need of another. And he clung to the sound of it as he finally crawled into his cold, rumpled bed.