Chapter 6: Earning Her Treasure
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, bleaching the conference table to a dull grey. The smell of stale coffee grounds and hot printer toner clung to the air, thick and industrial. On the laptop screen, the grainy video looped silently: Becca on her knees between Dave’s legs, her mouth stretched obscenely wide, eyes vacant. Chad leaned casually against the table’s edge, the harsh light catching the cheap gold plastic of the coin he held between his thumb and forefinger. His magician’s coat was gone, replaced by a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms.
"Remember this, Becca?" His voice was low, smooth, devoid of the party’s forced theatrics. Pure, focused command. It cut through the room’s sterile hum like a scalpel. "Your treasure."
Becca stood frozen near the door, her pirate costume rumpled, the blouse still hanging open, one breast half-exposed. The smudged eyeliner gave her a bruised, hollow look. Her breath hitched. Her eyes, wide and dilated, locked onto the spinning coin. The trembling started deep inside her core, a violent shudder that rippled outwards, making her knees buckle slightly. A low, needy whine vibrated in her throat. The video’s silent image flickered on the screen beside them, a ghostly echo.
"Earn it," Chad murmured, his gaze fixed on her face, watching the last vestiges of resistance dissolve into blank, hypnotic hunger. With his free hand, he unzipped his trousers. The metallic rasp was shockingly loud. He pushed the fabric down just enough, freeing his cock. It was already half-hard, thickening rapidly in the cold air, a ruddy contrast against his pale skin and dark trousers.
The command snapped the last thread. Becca lurched forward, stumbling slightly on the industrial carpet. She dropped hard onto her knees before him. The impact jarred her teeth, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her focus was absolute: the cock, the coin. Her trembling hands reached out, fingers brushing the heated flesh. Her touch was clumsy, desperate.
"Good girl," Chad breathed, his voice a velvet rasp. He tapped the shaft against her parted lips. "Open. Show me how much you want your gold."
She obeyed instantly, mouth opening wide, tilting her head back. Her eyes stayed locked on the coin he still held just out of reach. Her tongue darted out, wetting her swollen lips. Chad guided himself, pressing the thick, blunt head against her mouth. She sucked him in eagerly, lips closing around the glans, her tongue swirling over the sensitive slit. A low groan escaped him as her warmth enveloped him.
"Deep, Becca," he commanded, his voice hardening. He thrust forward, pushing past her lips, stretching her jaw. "Take it all. Earn. Your. Fucking. Treasure."
She gagged as the head bumped the back of her throat, tears springing instantly to her eyes. Saliva spilled down her chin, slicking her skin. But she pushed forward, forcing herself down onto him, her throat muscles fluttering wildly against the invading girth. Her nose pressed into the coarse hair at his base. Her hands clawed at his thighs, not pushing away, but gripping, anchoring herself as she fought the reflex to vomit.
Chad watched her struggle, his expression impassive, clinical. Only the slight flaring of his nostrils and the tightening grip on the coin betrayed his arousal. He pulled back slowly, letting her gasp in a ragged breath, strings of spit connecting her lips to his slick cock, then shoved forward again, deeper this time. Her choked cry was muffled by his flesh.
"That's it, greedy slut," he grunted, starting a slow, deliberate rhythm. Out. Deeper each time. "Suck it like your gold depends on it. Because it does." He glanced at the laptop screen where her past self was performing the same act for Dave. "Suck it better than you did for him."
Becca moaned around his cock, the vibration making him twitch. Her eyes, streaming tears, never left the spinning coin. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard, her head bobbing frantically now. The wet, rhythmic sounds filled the sterile room – slick slurps, choked gags, his low grunts. Her free hand, slick with her own spit, fumbled between her legs, rubbing urgently at the damp fabric of her pirate bloomers. She was grinding against her own fingers, her hips rocking minutely.
"Fuck, yeah," Chad hissed, his hips beginning to piston faster. He grabbed a fistful of her dark hair, yanking her head back slightly, controlling the angle. "Look at you. Look at how fucking desperate you are for this cheap piece of plastic. My little pirate whore." He thrust harder, deeper, the tip nudging her spasming throat entrance with every stroke. "You love choking on cock for your treasure, don't you? Tell me."
"Mmmhmm! Uhn! T-treasure!" The words were garbled, barely intelligible around his shaft, but the desperate affirmation was clear. Her body was wracked with tremors, caught between gagging and grinding, her need for the coin overriding the physical distress. Her hand moved faster between her legs.
Chad felt the pressure building, coiling tight in his balls. Becca’s frantic sucking, the tight, wet heat, the sheer degradation of her complete surrender to a fucking trinket… it was overwhelming. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the head resting on her swollen lips. Her eyes widened in panic, a desperate mewl escaping her.
"Cum for me first, slut," he commanded, breathing hard. "Cum for your captain. Show him how much you need his come."
As if his words were a physical trigger, her body locked. Her back arched violently off her heels. A strangled scream tore from her throat, muffled only by the head of his cock still resting there. Her inner thighs clenched, her whole body convulsing in a silent, powerful orgasm, her fingers jammed hard against her clit through the thin fabric. Her eyes rolled back slightly.
The sight triggered his own climax. With a guttural roar, Chad slammed his cock back into her mouth, burying himself to the root in her spasming throat. "Swallow it! Swallow it all, wench! Your TREASURE!" He held her head pinned against his groin as he erupted, thick, hot ropes of cum jetting deep into her gullet. She gagged violently, her body jerking, but he held her firm, pumping pulse after pulse down her throat.
Finally, spent and shuddering, he withdrew with a wet pop. Becca collapsed forward onto her hands, gasping, coughing violently. Thick strands of semen and spit hung from her chin, dripping onto the grey carpet. She retched, but nothing came up. Her whole body trembled with aftershocks.
Chad adjusted himself, tucking his softening cock away and zipping up with a smooth motion. He looked down at her, panting on the floor, a ruined mess of smudged makeup, spit, and cum. He held the plastic coin out. "Here's your reward, slut."
Her head snapped up, eyes wild and unfocused but instantly zeroing in on the gold disc. With a whimper that was half-sob, half-triumphant gasp, she snatched it from his fingers. Her fist clenched around it so tightly her knuckles turned white. A fresh, smaller tremor shook her, a faint echo of the violent convulsion from the party bedroom. She curled around the coin, pressing it against her chest, her breath still coming in ragged, wet hitches.
Chad smoothed his shirt, picked up the laptop, and snapped it shut with a decisive click. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by Becca’s choked breathing and the relentless fluorescent hum. He didn’t look at her again as he walked towards the door. He paused, hand on the knob, silhouetted against the bright hallway light.
"Clean yourself up," he said, his voice flat, devoid of any inflection. "Meeting in ten." He opened the door and stepped out, leaving her alone on the conference room floor, clutching a plastic coin, the taste of him still thick in her raw throat. The stale coffee smell suddenly seemed cloying, suffocating. From the corridor, the muffled sound of office chatter began to seep in.