Chapter 4: Sealing the Deal
The bathroom was a cold, clinical space, the white tiles slick under Sergio’s bare feet. The air smelled of soap and something else—something musky, something *male*. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the three men, their reflections warped in the misted mirror. Ivan’s broad shoulders blocked most of the light, his shadow stretching long and imposing across the floor. Sergio’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, his chest still heaving from the last round of degradation. His lips were swollen, his jaw aching from the brutal fucking Ivan had given him just minutes before.
Ivan’s fingers dug into Sergio’s shoulder, his grip bruising.
The dermatologist’s body was still trembling from the last round of brutal fucking, his asshole raw and aching, his throat sore from being used as a cock sleeve. He could still taste Ivan on his tongue, the musky, salty residue of the man’s dominance.
Jerry knelt on the cold tile floor, his face buried between Sergio’s thighs, his tongue working obediently over the mess Ivan had left behind. The personal trainer watched with dark amusement, his thick cock already hardening again, already demanding more.
“Look at you,” Ivan growled, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Look at your husband on his knees, cleaning you up like a good little slut.
That’s what he is now, Sergio. Your keeper. Your maid. Your *property*.”
Ivan’s fingers twisted in Sergio’s hair, yanking his head back so he had no choice but to watch. Jerry’s tongue was working furiously, lapping at the thick, sticky mess between Sergio’s thighs, his own face flushed with humiliation. The sight of his husband like this—reduced to this—sent a fresh wave of shame crashing through Sergio, but beneath it, something darker, something *hotter*, pulsed in his veins.
“You like that, don’t you?” Ivan murmured, his breath hot against Sergio’s ear. “You like seeing him on his knees for you.
Like seeing him *beg* to clean you up after I’ve fucked you raw.” Ivan’s voice was a low, filthy growl, his lips brushing against Sergio’s ear as he spoke. His free hand slid down Sergio’s chest, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his stomach before moving lower, tracing the outline of his half-hard cock. “Look at you. Still leaking for me. Still *needing* me.”
Sergio whimpered, his body betraying him as his cock twitched under Ivan’s touch. He couldn’t deny it—his body was wired for this now, for the degradation, the rough handling, the way Ivan made him feel like nothing more than a hole to be used.
His cock thickened under Ivan’s touch, betraying him, hardening despite the bruises on his hips, despite the way his throat still ached from being fucked.
Ivan chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down Sergio’s spine. “Fucking pathetic,” he murmured, his fingers tightening around Sergio’s cock, stroking him with slow, deliberate pressure. “You’re so hard for this. You love it when I make you my little slut.”
Sergio whimpered, his hips jerking forward into Ivan’s grip. He couldn’t help it—his body was no longer his own.