Chapter 26: The Morning After
The pale first light filtered through the venetian blinds and laid stripes across Greg's face, and Josh blinked awake to find those eyes already on him. There was no softness there, no drowsy give. Greg had been watching him sleep, still wearing last night's shirt, still hard under the sheet.
Josh's ass throbbed. It was a steady, dull pulse, and when he flexed his sphincter he felt the waxy stick of the lollipop still lodged inside him, long since melted down to a misshapen nub. Whatever had been in the candy, Greg's cum and his piss, seemed to have dissolved into the wrapper over the hours of sleep. The residual slick was cool and tacky where it had leaked onto Josh's thighs.
Greg smiled and leaned over the edge of the bed. His hand came up holding a fresh lollipop, still wrapped, the red cellophane catching the light. He unwound the twist with slow deliberation, pulled the stick free of the wrapper, and brought the glossy sphere to Josh's lips.
"You slept good," Greg said. It wasn't a question. "That's the thing about keeping my cum inside you all night. You rest like a whore with a full belly."
Josh parted his lips. The candy was cold against his tongue, sweet, and he tasted the chemical trace of something underneath. Not those flavors you buy in a store. Something manufactured in Greg's own kitchen.
Greg pressed it deeper, resting the shaft against Josh's bottom lip for a second before withdrawing. He straddled Josh's chest, settling his weight above him, and looked down with that hungry grin Josh knew too well by now.
"Today you're wearing it," Greg said. "To the office. You're going to walk in, sit down, and keep it nice and snug in that pretty ass of yours until I tell you otherwise."
Josh's throat tightened. He didn't ask questions. He'd learned after ch16, after the break room, after every single brutal repetition of this cycle, that asking questions only earned him more. He simply worked his mouth around the lollipop in his hand, breathing through his nose as the sugar coated his tongue, and nodded.
Greg ran a thumb across the weepy corner of Josh's jaw. "And before lunch, I'm letting Kevin know. Then Barry. Then my father."
Josh's stomach dropped. The name Ron made his whole body contract, the memory raw and immediate. Concrete against his back, the stairwell air cool where his pantyhose had been ripped aside. The way Ron had grunted in his ear that he was made for this.
"You want that?" Greg watched him closely, stroking the candy along Josh's lip. "You want Barry to know about it, and Kevin, and my dad? You want them to see what happens when you displease me? Or what happens when I choose to share you?"
Josh closed his eyes. The strategy his mind had been weaving, the cold web of control he'd been spinning for hours under Greg's attention, flickered beneath the exhaustion. He still had to act the part. Still had to whimper and submit.
"Yes, sir," he whispered.
Greg grabbed the lollipop from Josh's hand and shoved it into his own mouth with a wet pop, sucking at it as he stared down at Josh. "Good boy." He bit the candy off the stick, grinding it to pieces between his molars, and pushed his softening cock against Josh's mouth. "Lick it clean. You're drooling on yourself, and I want to taste you on my dick."
Josh obeyed. He dragged his tongue along Greg's shaft, tasting the salt of him, the rubbery late-night residue along the head. Greg hummed, pleased, and allowed Josh a few minutes of slow, worshipful attention before he slid off the bed entirely.
"Up," he said. "Shower, shave, dress. I'll have your outfit by the bathroom door." He paused at the threshold, turning back with the lollipop stick still between his fingers, tapping it against the doorframe. "The fresh one goes inside you before you leave this room. No complaints, no fuss." He grinned. "You know how I feel about fussing."
Josh lay there for a moment after Greg's footsteps fell away. The stale light in the room, the chemical hangover of last night's condom still in his gut, the dent the candy had left in his hole. He reached down, fingers brushing the sticky trail along his inner thigh, and felt the little strip of wrapper that had ridden up between his cheeks.
He should have felt broken. A part of him knew that. But there was something else there now, something sharp that spread through his chest when he remembered the board meeting Greg had mentioned. He knew about Henderson and Grier and Vasquez now. He knew about the scheduled vote. And he knew how a man like Greg responded when his investments turned against him.
Josh pushed himself upright. The ache in his ass made him hiss through his teeth, but he steadied himself on the cheap laminate floor and headed for the bathroom. He would shower, shave, dress. He would slide the fresh lollipop into his hole and walk into that office with Barry's eyes on him and Kevin's sneer waiting around the corner.
And he would keep telling himself this story. The one where he was the one being used. But today, pushing the warm water over his raw shoulders, Josh let his eyes go cold at the thought of Greg's father and his board, and the fact that Greg had just handed him the keys to all of it.
He was still adjusting the stick in his ass, working it deeper with a hiss and a shudder, when Greg's voice called from the other room. "Ready yet, princess? Kevin texts early."
“Yes sir. “ Josh ran up to Greg. “My pussy is full.”
Greg grinned.
“Good girl. Now do you want a quick treat before work?”
Josh hesitated but nodded.
Greg handed Josh a cup full of piss.
Josh took the cup with both hands, the warm plastic trembling slightly against his fingers. He didn't hesitate. He brought it to his lips and drank, swallowing in long, steady gulps while Greg watched with that patient, hungry approval in his eyes. The taste was familiar by now, warm and bitter and deeply humiliating, and Josh made himself hold Greg's gaze as he drained the last of it.
"That's my girl," Greg murmured, taking the empty cup from him. He set it on the dresser and ran a hand down Josh's bare chest, thumb skating over a nipple. "Look at you. Drinking me down first thing in the morning, asking for it even. You've come such a long way from the boy who used to shake in the server room."
Josh lowered his eyes. "Thank you, sir."
Greg chuckled and turned him around, pushing Josh's shoulders down until he bent over the edge of the mattress. Josh felt Greg's fingers spread his ass cheeks, felt the cool air against his raw, gaping hole, and then the press of Greg's thumb circling the sticky rim where the fresh lollipop sat inside him.
"Still snug," Greg said approvingly. "You'll hold it all day without complaint, won't you? Every step, every sit-down, every time Barry makes you crawl under his desk. You'll think of me every time you shift in your chair."
"Yes, sir."
Greg slapped his ass hard, the sound cracking through the room, and Josh gasped. Greg laughed and left him bent over, moving to the dresser where a folded pile of clothes waited.
"Right. Outfit. You're going as yourself today, mostly. That's the fun of it. Common knowledge that you're Greg's little bitch, but the world sees a regular intern in chinos and a button-down. Nobody knows about the candy in your ass unless I tell them."
Josh straightened slowly, watching Greg hold up a pair of tight khaki slacks, a pale blue dress shirt, a striped tie. Regular enough. Except the slacks had no boxer briefs waiting beneath them, just a thin black thong that Greg tossed onto the bed with a grin.
"Put those on first. I want the waistband just visible when you bend over for Barry."
Josh dressed in silence. The thong was stiff against his skin, the fabric cutting up between his cheeks and pressing against the stick of the lollipop. He worked it carefully, the candy shifting inside him as he adjusted himself, feeling the sugar melt begin anew against his walls. The khakis went next. The shirt, buttoned to his collarbone. The tie, knotted. All of it ordinary. All of it a lie.
Greg circled him, checking his work. He adjusted Josh's collar, smoothed a wrinkle over his shoulder, and then grabbed his chin, forcing Josh to look up at him.
"You understand what today is, right? Not just another day of you being my fucktoy. Today I'm telling Kevin. I'm telling Barry. And by the time my father shows up for his site visit, he's going to know that his little stairwell conquest doesn't get to keep secrets from his own son."
Josh's pulse hammered. The mention of Ron made his skin prickle with memory, concrete and cold and brutal. But he kept his expression soft, pleading.
"Whatever you want, sir. I'm yours."
Greg's grin widened. He pressed a kiss to Josh's forehead, almost tender, a gesture so incongruous it made Josh's stomach turn. Then he stepped back and grabbed a set of car keys from the nightstand.
"Good. Kevin's already texting. He wants to meet you in the parking garage before the morning standup. Wants a little taste of the bitch who's been keeping my bed warm."
Josh swallowed. A spike of adrenaline cut through the exhaustion in his limbs. Kevin's greasy fingers, his stained mattress, the way he talked down to Josh like he was nothing beyond a hole. Kevin, who had been there at the very beginning, shaking in the shadows of the server room.
"Get your shoes on, princess. We're leaving in five."
Josh laced his loafers. The lollipop shifted inside him as he bent over, the stick pressing against his tailbone, and he felt a fresh rivulet of melted sugar leak down and soak into the black fabric of the thong. He couldn't hide it. He didn't try to. He walked out of the bedroom after Greg, through the stale apartment, and into the fluorescent hum of the hallway where the morning light was already turning white and harsh.
The car ride was short. Josh sat in the passenger seat, chinos pressed, tie knotted, a stranger to anyone who passed. But when Greg pulled into the underground parking structure of the office building, the shadows swallowing them in gray concrete, Josh saw a familiar shape leaning against a pillar near the elevator bank.
Kevin. Hands jammed in his hoodie pocket. Grinning as the car came to a stop.
Greg killed the engine and turned to Josh. "Go on. He's waited long enough. Make him happy, and I'll make sure Barry gets the full story before lunch." He unbuckled Josh's seatbelt and traced a finger along his jaw. "You know what you are, right?"
Josh looked at Kevin's grinning silhouette through the windshield and felt the cold, sharp thing settle deeper in his chest.
"I'm your little bitch," he said. "And Kevin's. And Barry's. And anyone else you decide I belong to."
Greg smiled. "Good girl. Now get out there and take his cock like you mean it. He's been jerking off to your face all morning."
“In my pussy?” Josh asked
“On your face.” Greg decided. “Save your pussy for later.”
Josh nodded, a dull obedience settling into his shoulders the way it always did when Greg gave him an order. He reached for the door handle, but Greg caught his wrist and pulled him back into a rough kiss, tongue sliding against Josh's, tasting still of the warm piss he'd swallowed minutes ago. Greg bit his lower lip on the way out, and Josh felt the sting bloom, salty and bright.
"You let him use your mouth like you mean it," Greg said, settling back into his seat. "And you don't stop until he's done. Not when it hurts, not when you choke, not when you want to tap out. You're my good girl, and good girls take care of their daddy's friends."
"Yes, sir. Thank you for sharing me."
Greg's grin flashed in the gray garage light. "Now go."
Josh stepped out of the car. The concrete floor was cold through the thin soles of his loafers, and the lollipop inside him shifted with every step, a constant, sticky reminder of what he carried. Kevin straightened off the pillar as Josh approached, unzipping his hoodie with lazy fingers. His face was pale and pockmarked, his thin hair greasy against his forehead. He was already hard where his jeans tented, and he made no move to hide it.
"There she is," Kevin said. "Daddy drop you off for the morning shift?"
Josh stopped in front of him, hands at his sides, head bowed. The garage was silent around them, only the distant hum of a ventilation fan and the flicker of a failing fluorescent tube overhead. Elevators dinged somewhere on another level. Footsteps, distant and unhurried.
"Greg said I should make you happy," Josh said.
Kevin grabbed a fistful of Josh's tie and yanked him forward, spinning him around and shoving him chest-first against the cold concrete pillar. The surface scraped Josh's cheek through his skin, and he grunted as Kevin's body pressed against his back, grinding his denim-rough crotch against Josh's ass.
"Happy," Kevin whispered near his ear, breath hot and rank with morning coffee. "Fuck, I've been thinking about this face all morning. Off in the bathroom stall, stroking myself to that pretty mouth of yours."
Josh felt Kevin's fingers find the waistband of his khakis, saw the frantic pressure there as Kevin struggled with the button, too eager to be smooth. The fabric bunched. Cool air bit Josh's skin as his slacks came open and the thin fabric of the thong was peeled aside. Kevin's cock swung out immediately, thick and uncut and already slick at the tip, and he didn't give Josh time to adjust.
He shoved it into Josh's mouth from behind, a brutal, angled entry that hit the back of his throat in one stroke. Josh gagged, eyes watering, hands bracing against the pillar's rough surface. Kevin groaned and drove deeper, both hands gripping Josh's hips, humping against the base of his skull.
"That's it," Kevin grunted. "Take it. Swallow me down like the little cocksucker you are."
Josh didn't fight. He'd learned not to. He relaxed his jaw, opened his throat as best he could, and let Kevin use him. The strokes were rough and arrhythmic, Kevin's hips jerking without rhythm, driven only by a week of thwarted need. Drool leaked down Josh's chin, soaking the knot of his tie. Each impact of Kevin's pelvis against his face made the lollipop inside his ass shift, the sticky stick pressing against his rim.
"Yeah," Kevin hissed. "God, yeah. Look at you. Greg told me you drank his piss this morning. Told me you've still got candy in your ass. God, you really are the perfect slut, aren't you?"
Josh couldn't answer. Kevin's cock was too deep, the shaft thick against his tongue, the head nudging his gag reflex every time Kevin slammed home. Kevin held him there, buried to the root, and Josh felt the man's balls slap against his chin as Kevin's hips swiveled, grinding in little circles.
"Don't you dare cum," Greg's voice called from the car, amused and lazy. "Not yet, Kevin. I want to watch her suck you dry properly."
Kevin laughed against Josh's skull. He pulled back until only the head was inside, then drove forward again with a full-body thrust, his hands sliding into Josh's hair and gripping tight. The pain was a clean, bright line across Josh's scalp, and tears spilled freely down his cheeks now, dripping into the collar of his pressed shirt.
A distant dinging. An elevator car opened across the garage, and footsteps echoed. Josh caught movement in his periphery: a figure in a suit, briefcase in hand, pausing to look. The man's face flickered with recognition, then a grin spread over his features. Ron approached, footsteps unhurried on the concrete, keys dangling from his fingers.
"Well, well," Ron said, stopping a few feet away. He folded his arms and watched, head tilted. "Junior starts early these days, does he? Sending his plaything out for a morning meal."
Kevin pulled off Josh's mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with spit. "Morning, Mr. Ron. Your son's got good taste."
Ron's smile didn't reach his eyes. He walked closer, running his hand over Josh's bent back, down the curve of his ass, fingers hooking under the thong's waistband and snapping it against his skin. Josh flinched.
"Clean the mess off your face," Ron told him quietly. "Then get up to your desk. I want to see you at work today. Properly. Come find me before lunch." He leaned down, his mouth a hair's breadth from Josh's ear. "You remember the stairwell, don't you? Level three, by the freight elevator. I'll be waiting at noon. Don't make me come looking."
Josh got up on shaky legs but Greg shook his head. “You forgot to tell Kevin thank you.”
Josh's knees hit the concrete before his mind caught up with his body. The rough surface bit through the thin fabric of his khakis, and he felt the lollipop shift inside him with the impact, the stick pressing hard against his rim. He looked up at Kevin, whose cock still hung wet and glistening in front of his face, and forced his lips into something soft and grateful.
"Thank you, Kevin," Josh said, his voice hoarse from the throat-fucking. "Thank you for using my mouth. Thank you for letting me serve you."
Kevin's grin spread wide and ugly. He fisted a hand in Josh's hair and tilted his head back further. "Louder. I want Mr. Ron to hear how well you thank your betters."
Josh's gaze flicked sideways. Ron stood there, arms folded, watching with the same detached amusement he'd worn in the stairwell right before he'd ripped Josh's pantyhose down. The memory made Josh's stomach clench, but he turned his eyes back to Kevin's cock and pitched his voice to carry.
"Thank you, Kevin. Thank you for letting me suck your cock. I'm a dirty little whore and I'm grateful for every inch you give me."
Kevin groaned and pulled Josh forward by the hair, pressing his cock back against Josh's lips, smearing the spit and pre-cum across his mouth. "Open up. One more taste before I head up. Greg wants you fresh for later, but I'm taking my breakfast now."
Josh opened. Kevin fed his cock in slow, deliberate inches, letting Josh taste the length of him, the salt and musk coating Josh's tongue. Kevin held him there for a long moment, buried to the root, then pulled out with a wet pop and tucked himself back into his jeans.
"Fuck," Kevin breathed, zipping up with shaking fingers. "I'm gonna be thinking about that all through standup. Gonna be sitting there with a hard-on the whole time, remembering how your throat feels."
Ron chuckled from his spot by the pillar. "Get up, boy. You'll have plenty of time to worship at the altar later. Right now I want to see you walk into that office with my son's property still wedged in your ass and pretend you're one of the team."
Josh got to his feet. His knees ached, concrete grit embedded in the fabric, and his chin was slick with drool. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as best he could, but the damage was done. His tie was damp, his collar stained, and his lips were swollen and red.
"Clean yourself up in the restroom on the third floor," Ron said, turning away, keys jingling in his hand. "Then come find me. Noon. Stairwell by the freight elevator. Don't keep me waiting."
He walked off without looking back, his footsteps echoing through the empty garage. Kevin gave Josh a final slap on the ass as he passed, laughing, and headed for the elevator bank. The car dinged and swallowed him.
Josh stood alone in the gray light, breathing hard. Greg was still in the car, and he could feel the man's gaze on him through the windshield. He walked back to the driver's side window and leaned down, meeting Greg's tired, satisfied eyes.
"Good girl," Greg said. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"No, sir. Thank you for giving me to Kevin. He seemed happy."
Greg snorted. "Happy enough to have his cock down your throat before nine in the morning, yeah." He reached out and ran his thumb over Josh's swollen lip. "You're a mess. Go clean up. And when Barry calls you into his office for your performance review, you know what to do."
"Yes, sir. Crawl under the desk and keep my mouth busy."
Greg's grin widened. "See, that's why I keep you around. You learn fast." He started the engine. "I'll be up in an hour. Be good until then."
Josh watched Greg reverse out of the parking spot and drive toward the exit ramp. The taillights disappeared up the slope, and the garage fell silent except for the hum of the ventilation fans.
He stood there for a moment, alone in the gray concrete, feeling the lollipop shift against his inner walls. The sugar had melted significantly during Kevin's rough handling, and there was a fresh trickle of sticky liquid working its way down his thigh, soaking into the waistband of the thong. He adjusted himself as discreetly as he could, wincing at the pressure, and straightened his tie.
Then he walked to the elevator bank and pressed the button for the third floor.
The restroom was empty when he got there. He leaned over the sink and ran cold water, splashing it across his face, scrubbing at the dried drool on his chin. His eyes in the mirror looked raw and red-rimmed, but there was something else there too. Something cold that had been growing for weeks, that had sharpened in the stairwell with Ron and in the bedroom with Greg.
He dried his face with paper towels, adjusted the stick inside him one more time, and walked out into the fluorescent hum of the office.
The morning stretched ahead of him. Standup at ten. Barry's inevitable summons sometime before lunch. Ron waiting in the stairwell at noon. And beneath all of it, the board meeting that Greg had mentioned, the names Henderson and Grier and Vasquez, the fragile web of corporate power that Josh was beginning to understand.Josh found his desk without incident, slipping into his chair with practiced care. The lollipop shifted, the stick pressing against his tailbone, and he adjusted his weight to minimize the discomfort. A few of the engineers glanced his way, but no one said anything. They'd learned, like everyone else, not to ask questions about Josh's crumpled shirts or the red marks on his neck or the way he walked with a slight stiffness that never quite went away.
He opened his laptop and stared at the email queue. Nothing urgent. A few calendar invites. A message from HR about sensitivity training that made him want to laugh. He worked through the motions of the morning, responding to messages he barely read, keeping his face neutral while his mind turned over the knowledge Greg had shared the night before. The board conflict. Henderson's push for cost cuts. Grier's ambition. Vasquez's caution. And Ron's position in the middle of it all, the patriarch who saw his son as a disappointment and Josh as a thing to be used and passed around.
At ten, the team gathered for standup in the conference room. Josh stood near the back, arms crossed, trying to make himself small. Kevin was across the room, grinning at him over the rim of a coffee mug. Barry was at the head of the table, droning through the sprint board in his flat, nasal voice, and every time he paused he flicked his eyes toward Josh with a look that promised later.
Josh made it through standup without incident. Kevin blew him a kiss as the room dispersed, and Josh managed a small, tight smile in return. Then he retreated to his desk and watched the clock crawl toward noon.
At 11:45, his phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: Level three. Freight elevator. Don't be late, princess.
Josh's mouth went dry. He locked his screen, stood, and walked toward the stairwell door. No one stopped him. No one even looked up.