Chapter 19: Humiliation in the work place
Derek stepped into his office the next morning with the sluggish, weighted feeling of a man who had just run a marathon—if marathons involved being publicly used by a room full of strangers. The scent of his own body still lingered in his nose, a faint musk of sweat and the lingering perfume of Margot’s shampoo, mixed with the sterile, lemony tang of the cleaning solution Lena had sprayed over the penthouse floor just hours before. He adjusted the knot of his tie with shaking fingers, the dark wool of his suit clinging to his shoulders like a second skin that didn’t fit quite right anymore.
The image in the mirror of his home office showed a man who looked like Derek Vance—the same sandy blonde hair, same boyish face that had once made him look younger than his age—but something in his eyes had shifted. The hollow gaze that stared back at him wasn’t the same one that had greeted him in the mirror yesterday morning.
His phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up with a notification from his work email. He hesitated before picking it up, his thumb hovering over the notification button like it might detonate. The subject line read: *"Kayla: Intern Feedback – Quarterly Review."* His stomach twisted. He swiped the notification away and locked the phone, setting it back on the desk with deliberate care.
The sleek mahogany surface gleamed under the warm office lighting—clean, untouched, a world away from the mess of the penthouse. He exhaled slowly, running his fingers through his hair, the strands still damp from his shower this morning. Derek had applied extra cologne, something woodsy and expensive, hoping it would mask the scent of sweat and sex that clung to him like a second shadow. It barely helped.
His office chair creaked as he sat, the upholstered leather cushion still cool against his thighs. He swiveled slightly, staring out the window at the quiet Boston street below—tree-lined, respectable, the kind of view that belonged in a magazine spread on suburban bliss.
He remembered Kayla's dark curly pubic hair glistening with cum; the way she had pegged his ass in front of everyone; the way she had watched him suck cock and swallow load after load of jizz.
The way she had held him down while Suzie had fucked him so hard his asshole had bled.
Then there was Lena. Lena had watched him with something between pity and disgust, a woman who knew exactly what he was—a man who needed to be put in his place, someone who couldn’t take care of his own wife—and had decided to do it herself.
Derek’s breath hitched as he looked back down at his phone. The notification from Kayla still waited there, unread but accusing. He swiped the screen to unlock it, his thumb trembling as he tapped on the message.
The text was short, professional, with a hint of something else beneath the surface:
*"Hey boss, sorry for the late feedback! Would love to sync up today if you have time. Let me know what works for you. Coffee? Or lunch?"*
Nothing overt. Nothing *wrong*. And yet, the words clawed at him like fingers tracing a bruise. Coffee. Lunch. Two innocent words that now carried the weight of last night’s events. Last night when Kayla had called him “boss” with her dildo up his ass.
The word now rang in his skull like a gunshot.
Derek’s thumb hovered over the keyboard. He could type a quick “Sure!”—keep it breezy, keep it *normal*. But his fingers refused to move. His brain supplied the memory of Kayla’s laughter when she’d called him a “good boy,” how she’d squeezed his bruised hip after every thrust.
His phone buzzed again—same notification, still unread. This time the preview text appeared:
“Hope you’re doing well after last night—”
Three dots pulsed beneath the sentence.
Derek’s mouth went dry.
The message hovered on the screen like a live grenade, the cursor blinking mockingly at him. *After last night—*
His breath escaped in a sharp hiss, fingers tightening around the phone until the plastic creaked in protest. The words blurred under his watering eyes—last night, last night, *last night*—the phrase ricocheting through his skull like a pinball. He could still feel the weight of Kayla’s body pressed against his back in the penthouse, still hear Suzie’s guttural growl in his ear as she’d slammed into him, still see Margot’s knowing smirk as she’d watched his spent cock twitch in her hand.
He decided to keep his reply casual and coffee was safer than lunch.
He typed: "Coffee at the usual place, 11:30?" and hit send before he lost his nerve. Derek’s fingers hovered over the screen for a moment longer than necessary, the blue notification bubble disappearing, leaving him staring at a blank screen that felt like a void. He locked the phone again, placed it face-down on the desk, and swiveled his chair back toward the window. The street below remained unchanged—suburban tranquility in motion, cars gliding past tree-lined sidewalks, a woman pushing a stroller, a teenager on a skateboard weaving between pedestrians. Derek envied their oblivion.
Their *normalcy*.
A knock at the open office door made him flinch. He spun in his chair, heart hammering, to see Kayla leaning against the frame, her glossy lips tilted in a knowing smile. She wore a cream blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers—professional attire, innocent even. But the way the fabric strained across her chest made his throat tighten.
"Hey boss," she said lightly, pushing off the doorframe to step inside. "You got my text?" "Yeah. Coffee at 11:30."
Kayla nodded, stepping closer to his desk. She smelled like citrus and jasmine—fresh, bright.
*Too bright for this room.*
Derek forced a swallow, fingers tightening around the edge of his desk. "You look..." He trailed off, searching for the right word. *Breathtaking.* *Unfuckable.* *Like you just ruined me.*
Kayla smirked, dragging a finger along the edge of his monitor. "Good?" she asked, tilting her head. "Well, you look pretty good too LDCS, considering..." Kayla stopped, letting the implication hang there.
*LDCS* Little Dick Cock Sucker - was what she'd called him last night after seeing him in action at the party.
The nickname stuck in his mind like a brand.
Derek swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Considering what?" he asked, his voice lower than intended.
Kayla leaned in slightly, her perfume wrapping around him like a silken noose. "Considering the way you took it like a champ last night, boss. I didn't think you had it in you."
Derek's fingers twitched against the desktop, his knuckles turning white. The memory of Kayla's strap-on pounding into him flashed through his mind, the way she'd called him her bitch while doing it.
Kayla stepped back, her hips swaying slightly as she moved.
She bit her lower lip, her dark eyes studying Derek with a mix of amusement and something far more dangerous—curiosity. "I mean, it's not like I can just erase all that stuff from my mind." Her fingers traced the edge of his desk again, leaving a faint trail of her scent. "It was *hot*. Don't you want to play again?"
Kayla's voice was a velvety purr, her breath warm against Derek's ear as she leaned in close enough for the collar of his shirt to catch the jasmine from her hair. Her warm hand settled on his shoulder, her thumb tracing a slow circle over the fabric of his shirt.
The sensation was electric, every nerve ending in Derek's body firing with guilty pleasure. He knew Kayla was messing with him—testing him, pushing buttons he'd spent years pretending didn't exist. And here she was, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulder as she tilted her head to study his reaction, those full lips curved in a smirk that made his stomach clench.
"And of course it would be a shame if anyone in management found out about your *hobbies*" she purred, letting the word hang between them like a threat wrapped in silk.
Her fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder, nails pressing just enough to make him flinch before she dropped her hand with deliberate casualness.
She stepped back, her hips swaying as she turned toward the door, then paused with one hand on the frame. The morning light from the hallway caught the golden highlights in her hair, turning it into a halo of temptation.
"See you at 11:30, boss" she said lightly, glancing back over her shoulder with a wink.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Derek sat frozen in his chair, his breath coming too fast, his mind racing.
That was a threat. That was a *threat wrapped in teasing*. His fingers flexed against the desk, knuckles white. She knew. She *knew* what he’d done last night. She knew what he *was*. And worse—she liked it.
His phone buzzed again. He jumped like he’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking over a framed photo of Margot and him from their tenth wedding anniversary trip to Martha’s Vineyard—sun-bleached waves, Margot in a sundress laughing into the camera, Derek looking stiff and happy beside her. The image now felt like a cruel joke. How long had it been since that kind of happiness felt *real*?
He snatched up the phone.
It was Margot. Just her name on the screen, no message. He swiped to answer, pressing the device to his ear with a shaky hand.
“Hey,” he said, voice rough.
A pause. Then Margot’s voice, smooth and measured. “You sound tense. Everything okay?”
Derek swallowed hard. “Yeah. Just… got Kayla’s text about the feedback session later.”
Another pause. Long enough that he pulled the phone away to check if the call had dropped.
“I see,” Margot said, her tone neutral. “Coffee at eleven-thirty, right?”
Derek exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah. how did you know?”
"She and I had a little talk the other night." Margot teased. "I told her she could use you any way she wanted at work." Margot said, her voice cheerful and light, like she was discussing the weather. "But only if she kept it professional around clients or other managers. I trust her to keep her mouth shut about anything inappropriate, but I also know you need it." Margot paused before adding, "I think she's going to have a lot of fun with you boss."
Derek’s breath hitched. The casual way Margot spoke about his humiliation—about *sharing* him—sent a jolt through his system. His stomach twisted into a knot of shame and arousal, his mind flashing with images of Kayla’s dark curls bouncing as she fucked his ass, her voice taunting him with every thrust.
The way she’d called him *LDCS* last night in front of everyone. The way Margot had watched it all with that cool, calculating smile, like she was evaluating a piece of art she’d commissioned.
Derek’s fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, knuckles white. “You really trust her that much?” he asked, his voice tighter than he intended.
A soft laugh came through the phone, warm and amused. “Of course I do,” Margot said lightly. “She’s the one who’s going to keep you in line now that I know you need it. I can't be around to discipline you 24-7. I have a sex life to maintain.” She said with a little chuckle.
"You should be thanking me really, letting you have some fun with Kayla. It's going to be good for you. Every LDCS needs an administrative assistant. She told me she's going to find lots of cocks for you to suck." Margot said with a laugh as she ended the call.
Derek set his phone down slowly, staring at its blank screen as the finality of Margot's words settled over him like a lead blanket. The weight of it pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
The office around him felt suddenly too small. The framed diplomas on the wall, the neatly organized desk calendar, the stack of IT manuals—all of it seemed to mock his new reality. He was a husband. A professional. A man with responsibilities. But now he was also something else. Something Margot had just labeled for him.
He reached for his coffee mug, the ceramic cool under his fingertips despite the lukewarm liquid inside. He checked his watch. It was already 11:15. He needed to get going if he was going to meet Kayla at 11:30. He felt his balls tighten up in fear as he stood up from the desk and headed to the break room.
The usual mid-morning crowd was filing in—mostly from the floor below, their voices low and familiar like the hum of machinery. He barely registered their presence as he grabbed his travel mug from the cabinet, the ceramic still warm from the morning brew he’d made before logging in.
The break room smelled like stale coffee and microwaved leftovers—just another Tuesday in Corporate America. A woman from accounting gave him a nod as she filled her own mug, her eyes lingering just a second too long on his tie, which he’d adjusted three times since seeing Kayla. He managed a tight smile in return, the corners of his mouth twitching like a mannequin.
Kayla came in with her boyfriend, Sten, and a couple of other interns smiling and laughing together.
Derek felt his mouth go dry.
Kayla was already looking in his direction, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement as she caught him staring. She gave him a little wave, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile that made his pulse spike. "Hey there LDCS. How's it hanging this morning?" Kayla asked as she walked up to where Derek was pouring his coffee at the machine.
Her boyfriend Sten, and the other two interns, Kathy and Janice, laughed out load. Derek cringed inside wondering if they had told the other interns what the nickname meant.
The thought left his stomach queasy and his face burned with a fiery flush that crept up from his neck.
"Just fine Kayla," he managed to say, his voice steady but his internal self fighting like hell. "I was just getting some coffee." He held up his mug to show he already had some, as if that would somehow prove he was normal.
Kayla stepped closer to him, her perfume overwhelming his senses. She smelled like vanilla and temptation. Her breath brushed against his ear as she leaned in to whisper, "Kathy and Janice are really disappointed they didn't see you in action the other night. I think they deserve a demonstration." She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "And I know that Sven wouldn't mind having you drain his balls again, LDCS." Kayla whispered, her lips curled up into a wicked smile that made Derek's knees go weak.
She reached out and gave his growing bulge a gentle squeeze through his trousers, just enough pressure to make him whimper softly. Her eyes never left his as she did it, her dark gaze drilling into him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Jesus, Kayla—" Derek choked out, glancing around desperately as the other interns in the break room chattered among themselves, completely oblivious to their exchange. The woman from accounting was now occupied with her phone, but their voices carried in the small space, and he couldn’t risk drawing attention.
Derek looked over at Kathy and Janice.
Kathy was a tall, leggy brunette who liked to wear tight skirts to work and always smelled like vanilla body spray. Janice was petite with short red hair that was usually tucked behind her ears. Both women were looking at Derek with knowing smirks, their eyes roaming over his body in a way that made his skin prickle.
He tore his gaze away from them, turning back to Kayla. Her fingers were still wrapped around his balls through his trousers, her grip firm and painful, pressing him into the metal of his cock cage.
"Meet us out back by the dumpster in 15 minutes, cock sucker." Kayla whispered in his ear. "Unless you want everyone to know your little secrets." Kayla squeezed his balls tighter, her dark brows lifting in mock concern. "Your choice boss."
Derek gasped, his knees nearly buckling under the pressure of her touch. The weight of her threat settled over him like a wet blanket.
"Fifteen minutes," she repeated, releasing him with a slow stroke of her thumb across the head of his cock through the fabric.
Derek stood frozen, the coffee he’d just poured now forgotten as it sloshed dangerously close to the rim of his mug. His pulse hammered in his throat, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
The break room noise faded into a dull hum, the voices of his coworkers morphing into something distant and muffled, like he was hearing them from the other end of a tunnel.
Kayla’s fingers had left him, but the phantom pressure of her grip remained—firm, possessive, *in control.* The nickname she’d used with such casual cruelty echoed in his skull: *LDCS. LDCS. LDCS.*
Little Dick Cock Sucker. The words were now etched into his identity.
He turned slowly, forcing himself to act normal as he met the gaze of Kathy and Janice.
Both women smiled at him, their eyes lingering on his groin. Janice’s gaze was amused and curious, while Kathy’s dark eyes were predatory in a way that made his stomach clench.
“See you soon LDCS,” Kathy said, her voice smooth and knowing. She took a slow sip of her coffee, her pink lips wrapping around the rim of her mug in a way that made his face burn even hotter.
Kathy and Janice exchanged amused glances before following Kayla back toward the elevators, their hips swaying with an exaggerated motion that felt like a deliberate taunt.
Derek stood frozen for a long moment, his knuckles still white around the edge of the counter. The coffee he’d poured sloshed dangerously close to the rim, threatening to spill over. He set the mug down with careful precision, the porcelain clinking against the counter.
His watch read 11:28.
Eight minutes until he had to be by the dumpster.
Eight minutes to compose himself enough to walk through the office without looking like a man who had just been sexually humiliated by his employee.
Eight minutes to pretend he was still Derek Vance—reliable IT consultant, devoted husband, stable pillar of the community. Eight minutes before he had to surrender completely to Kayla's control.
Derek forced himself to take slow, measured breaths. He rinsed his travel mug at the sink, the cold water shocking against his overheated skin. The break room seemed suddenly too bright, too exposed. He could feel the weight of Kathy and Janice's gazes burning into his back as he dried his hands with deliberate slowness.
His phone buzzed in his pocket—a text from Kayla:
*"Tick tock boss. Don't be late."*
The message flashed like a neon sign in his vision.
*Tick tock boss.*
Derek's breath hitched. His fingers tightened around the phone, the message burning through his fingertips like acid.
"Late for what?" He muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the break room.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:29. One minute until freedom—or capture.
Derek forced himself to move, each step feeling weighted with dread. The break room door swung open with a quiet hiss, revealing the bustling office floor beyond. His coworkers moved like ghosts in the fluorescent glow, their conversations a white noise backdrop to his spiraling thoughts.
Derek kept his gaze fixed on the exit, his body thrumming with the kind of tension that made his fingers tremble as he adjusted his tie for the hundredth time.
The back hallway was dimmer, the flickering fluorescents casting long shadows that stretched like bars across the linoleum floor. The scent of dumpsters and old pizza boxes hit him as he pushed through the emergency exit door, the metallic creak echoing in the narrow space between buildings. The alley was a claustrophobic canyon between brick facades, sunlight barely reaching the cracked pavement below.
Kayla stood with her back against the building, arms crossed over her cream blouse that matched the one from this morning. Beside her, Kathy and Janice leaned against the brick wall, their legs crossed at the ankle with a casual ease that made Derek’s pulse stutter. Sven stood next to the girls by the dumpster with a smirk on his face.
"Here's our little cock sucker now." Kayla said with an evil smile.
Derek’s breath hitched at the way she stood there, so confident and in control, her sharp eyes raking over him in the way that made his blood burn.
The three women and one man watched him with a mix of amusement and hunger, their bodies leaning casually against the brick wall as if they were waiting for their next meal. The shadows stretched long across the alley, the afternoon sun barely penetrating the tight space between the buildings.
"Right on time," Kayla said, her voice smooth and amused. She pushed off the wall, stepping closer to Derek with deliberate slowness. Her heels clicked against the cracked pavement, the sound echoing in the alley like a countdown to something inevitable.
Derek’s throat tightened as she closed the distance between them, her dark eyes locked onto his with predatory precision. The way she moved—like a panther circling prey—made his pulse hammer in his throat.
Kayla stopped just inches from him, her perfume wrapping around him in a cloud of jasmine and something darker, something that smelled like sin. "You look nervous, LDCS," she murmured, her voice low and teasing. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his tie before sliding down to rest against his chest. The pressure was light, almost casual, but Derek felt the weight of it like a brand.
"Don't worry LDCS, I'll have Sven block the door so no one can come outside. Then you can show the girls what you do best. Sven is certainly ready for you to drain his balls." Kayla said with a wink, her dark curls bouncing as she glanced at her boyfriend. Sven smirked, leaning against the dumpster with his arms crossed over his chest. His tall, blond frame cast a long shadow over Derek, making him feel even smaller.
Derek swallowed hard, his throat dry as cotton. He could feel the weight of Kathy and Janice's gazes on him, their eyes roaming over him with a mix of amusement and hunger. The alley felt suddenly too small, the brick walls pressing in around him like a cage.
Kayla's fingers tightened slightly on his chest before she stepped back, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Well, LDCS? What are you waiting for? Show the girls what a good little cock sucker you can be."
Derek’s breath hitched at the words, his pulse pounding in his ears. The nickname burned through him, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders like a physical force. He could feel the heat rising up his neck, spreading across his face in a furious blush. His fingers twitched at his sides, the urge to adjust his tie—his anything—overwhelming.
Kayla’s sharp gaze followed the movement, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, you *are* nervous," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. She stepped back, giving him more room, but the space between them still felt suffocating.
The alley was narrow, the brick walls pressing in on either side like the sides of a coffin. The dumpster’s rusted metal sides creaked slightly in the breeze that swept through the space, carrying the faint scent of stale beer and garbage.
Derek looked over at Janice and Kathy.
Both women were looking at him with a mix of amusement and hunger in their eyes. Janice's gaze was curious and amused while Kathy's eyes were predatory in a way that made his stomach clench.
He looked over at Sven who chuckled and pointed to the ground at his feet. "On your knees, cock sucker. Let's get this over with." Sven said with a low chuckle, his tall frame blocking the narrow alley exit.
Derek swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight. The scent of garbage and stale beer mixed with Kayla's jasmine perfume, making his head spin. He could feel the three women's eyes on him, their gazes heavy with expectation and something darker he didn't want to name.
Kayla crossed her arms, her cream blouse straining slightly against her chest as she tilted her head. You heard Sven. On your knees. Suck that cock like a good boy."
Derek's breath hitched at the nickname, the weight of it pressing down on him like a physical force.
His knees trembled as he considered the humiliating order, the pavement cold and unforgiving beneath him. The trio of women watched him with a mix of amusement and hunger, their eyes gleaming in the dim alley light.
"Y-Yes, ma'am," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He slowly sank to his knees, the concrete biting through his pants. The position felt both foreign and strangely intimate, like an intimate act he'd never expected to perform in a professional setting, let alone by the dumpster behind his workplace.
Kayla stepped closer, her heels clicking against the pavement. "That's it, LDCS," she purred, her fingers tangling in his sandy blonde hair.
"Show Sven here how much you love his cock. We all want to watch you work."
Sven unzipped his fly, pulling out his already half-hard cock. It wasn’t huge but it was thick and flushed pink at the tip, the veins standing out against the soft skin.
Derek’s mouth went dry as he stared at the thick cock bobbing in front of him, the musky scent of sex and arousal filling his senses. He could feel the weight of the three women’s eyes on him, their gazes heavy with anticipation. The alley seemed to shrink around him, the brick walls pressing in like the sides of a coffin.
“Go on,” Kayla murmured, her fingers tightening slightly in his hair. “Show them how good you are. Show them how you deep throat and swallow like a back alley cum whore.”
Kayla said her voice a velvety purr, her fingers tangling in Derek's hair and forcing his head forward. His lips brushed against Sven's thick cock head, the heat of it radiating through him.
Derek’s breath came in ragged gasps as he looked up at Kayla with wide, frightened eyes. His mind screamed at him to stop—that this was wrong, that he should stand up, that this would ruin him—but his body betrayed him. The humiliation pooled in his gut like molten lead, his cock already straining painfully against his trousers.
Kayla’s grip tightened in his hair, forcing his face closer to Sven’s shaft.
The thick cock pulsed in front of him, the skin warm and slick with sweat. Derek’s stomach clenched as the musky scent of arousal hit him full force. His mouth watered, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips involuntarily.
“Go on, LDCS,” Kayla murmured, her voice a dark purr. “Let them see what a good little cock sucker you are. Show them that you know your place.”
Derek whimpered, his cheeks burning with shame. He could feel Kathy and Janice’s gazes boring into him, their eyes hungry for the show.
Janice’s lips were parted slightly, her fingers toying with the hem of her skirt as she watched him with a mix of fascination and amusement. Kathy, on the other hand, looked at him with something far darker—something that made his stomach flip. Her dark eyes gleamed with predatory delight, like she was already imagining all the ways she could make him suffer.
Sven chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the alley. “Look at him, Kayla. He’s *begging* for it.” He tugged Derek’s hair lightly, forcing his mouth to open wider.
Derek’s lips parted on instinct, his breath hitching as the thick cock pressed against them.
The tip was hot and slick—already glistening with pre-cum that made his stomach clench with something between revulsion and arousal. His tongue darted out, catching a bead of moisture before he could stop himself.
“Mmm, that’s a good boy,” Kayla cooed, her fingers digging into the back of his neck just enough to let him know he had no choice but to obey. “Suck it, LDCS. Take it all the way down to his balls.” Kayla said with a smile.
Derek’s gag reflex kicked in violently the moment the thick cockhead breached his lips, pushing past his teeth and settling heavily against the back of his throat. His eyes watered instantly, his nostrils flaring as he fought to breathe through his nose, the salty, musky taste of Sven’s arousal flooding his senses.
He gagged again, his throat convulsing around the base of Sven’s shaft, his fingers instinctively gripping the man’s thighs in a desperate attempt to steady himself—or maybe to push him away. Either way, the gesture was futile. Sven’s hips rolled forward with practiced ease, sliding deeper, hitting that spot that made Derek’s stomach lurch with every thrust.
"Damn Kayla. You were right. He really is a faggot. I didn't believe you at first, but shit, this is hot." Janice commented.
She reached down, her fingers brushing against Derek’s hair as he gagged on the cock in his mouth. "Shit Kayla, look at him. He’s gagging like a real slut." Janice said with a laugh.
Janice’s words sent a jolt of humiliation through Derek, his face burning even hotter as he tried to pull back, his fingers tightening into fists against Sven’s thighs. But Kayla’s grip on his hair kept him firmly in place, her nails digging into his scalp just enough to make him whimper around the cock filling his mouth.
“Easy there, LDCS,” Kayla murmured, her voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t think about pulling back. You don’t get to decide when you stop,” Kayla said, her voice a purr as she watched Derek writhe in shame. “You’re just a little fuck toy for Sven right now. And you’re doing a damn good job.”
Derek’s breath came in sharp, panicked bursts through his nose, his chest heaving as he struggled to adjust to the thick cock buried in his throat. His stomach churned, his gag reflex fighting against the invasion, but his body refused to listen. The humiliation burned through him, mingling with the shame of arousal that pooled in his groin.
"Fuck his throat, Sven. Make him choke on it." Kathy spoke up.
With a groan, Sven gripped the back of Derek’s head and pulled him all the way down the shaft until Derek’s nose pressed against his pelvis. Derek gagged violently, his eyes watering, tears spilling down his cheeks as he fought for air through his pinched nostrils.
"Look at that," Janice commented, her voice dripping with amusement as she pulled out her phone. "We *have* to record this shit." She snapped a photo of Derek with Sven’s cock stuffed down his throat, the image framed by the spread of Derek's legs, his ass forced out by his kneeling position.
The photo captured the humiliation perfectly—the way his face was flushed red, tears streaming down his cheeks, his lips stretched obscenely around the thick cock root. Kayla leaned over Janice’s shoulder, chuckling darkly as she scrolled through the images on the phone. “Damn, LDCS. Look at you,” she said, her voice thick with amusement. “You’re taking that cock like a pro.” She reached out, brushing a thumb over Derek’s damp cheek, smearing some of the tears that had escaped. Her touch was almost tender, contrasting sharply with the degradation of the moment. “We’re gonna have to post this somewhere.” Kathy said, stepping forward and taking the phone from Janice.
She zoomed in on the image, her dark eyes gleaming with something predatory. "We could post this on a gay classified site." She looked up at Derek with a wicked grin. "Maybe find some more clients for this cock sucker." Kathy suggested with a smirk.
Derek moaned around the thick cock in his mouth, his muffled protests lost beneath the sound of Sven’s grunts as he thrust deeper. The humiliation was too much—the way his cheeks hollowed with every thrust, the way his tears dripped onto his tie, the way his own body betrayed him by twitching with arousal despite the shame.
Janice stepped closer, her high-heeled boots clicking against the pavement as she tilted her head to get a better view. "Look at him slobber all over it," she said, her tone almost clinical.
"All this time we thought he was some uptight IT guy, and here he is—gagging on another man’s cock like it’s his job."
Kathy snapped more photos, changing angles, zooming in on Derek’s flushed face, his trembling lips wrapped around Sven’s shaft, the spit glistening on his chin. Each flash of the phone camera felt like a brand searing through him.
“Mmm, this is *gold*,” Kathy murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “We should send this to Margot. Maybe show her what a good boy her husband is.”
Kayla laughed, the sound sharp and delighted.
"Oh, she’s going to *love* this," she said, pulling her own phone from her purse. She flipped it to selfie mode and held it out, angling it to capture Derek kneeling in the alley, Sven’s cock buried in his throat, Kathy snapping photos from above, Janice crouched beside him, her phone recording the whole spectacle. The flashing light of the camera sent pulses of humiliation through Derek, each flash like a whip crack across his already stinging skin.
"Smile for the camera, LDCS," Kayla teased, tapping her screen to capture the moment.
The flash illuminated Derek’s stricken face, his eyes wide and watery, snot leaking from his nose as he struggled to breathe around Sven’s thick cock. The contrast between his professional attire—crumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, suit pants—and his debased position was grotesque and delicious. Kayla zoomed in on his tear-streaked cheeks, the way his lips were stretched obscenely around the base of Sven’s shaft, the drool glistening on his chin. She chuckled darkly, capturing it all before lowering the phone. "Margot is going to *adore* this. Of course, she's probably getting fucked by one of her boy toys right now." Kayla finished, laughing.
Sven started pumping his hips more frantically and Derek could tell he was close.
The cock in his throat throbbed and pulsed and Derek gagged again. The noises he was making were wet and sloppy, nothing like the quiet professional he tried to be at work.
“Fuck, that’s good.” Sven groaned, his hips stuttering as his balls drew up tight. “Swallow it all, cock sucker. All of it.”
Derek’s gag reflex was going crazy, but he swallowed around the cock root anyway, his throat working desperately to take it. He could feel the first hot spurt of cum hit the back of his throat and Derek jerked his head back instinctively. A thick rope of cum splattered against his cheek and lips instead of going down his throat.
Another thick rope hit his forehead and dripped down into his hair.
Sven groaned, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied the last of his load onto Derek’s face. “Fuck yeah, just like that,” he panted, his cock twitching as the last drops of cum dripped from the slit.
Derek gasped for air, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Cum dripped from his chin, his forehead, his hair—smeared across his face in thick, white rivulets. His lips were swollen, his throat raw from the abuse. He looked up at Sven with wide, tear-filled eyes, his humiliation complete.
The thick globs of cum still clung to his face, his tie now soaked through with spit and semen, his expensive dress shirt wrinkled and ruined. His knees ached from the hard pavement, his legs numb from kneeling in one position for so long.
But worse were the eyes on him.
Kayla, Kathy, and Janice stood in a loose semicircle, phones still raised, lenses trained on him. Their expressions ranged from amusement to outright hunger, as if they'd just witnessed something sacred—or something they planned to exploit.
Kayla's dark curls bounced as she leaned in, her glossy lips curling into a satisfied smile. "Well," she purred, "that was...*instructive*," Kayla said, her voice laced with dark amusement. She reached out, her long fingers brushing away a thick streak of cum from Derek’s cheek before dragging her thumb across his lower lip, smearing the remaining remnants of his degradation. "You did well, LDCS," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "Next time, I give the girls pegging lessons. You're going to love it little bitch." Karen said with a wink.
Derek could feel his whole body trembling—from the humiliation that had just been poured over him like scalding water, from the way Kayla looked at him like he was nothing more than a toy she could break again and again, from the sticky proof of his submission drying on his face and tie and the front of his shirt.
His mind raced through options that none of them made sense. He could run. He could scream. He could beg them to stop.
None of those would change the fact that he was still kneeling there, still coated in another man's cum, still the center of their attention.
None of those would erase what had just happened. None of those would save him from what came next.
Derek’s breath hitched, his chest still heaving from the rough throat-fucking and the humiliation that had just been forced upon him. His fingers trembled where they rested against Sven’s thighs, the wool of his trousers still damp from his own leaking arousal despite everything.
Kayla stepped back, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement as she gave him a slow, deliberate once-over. Her dark eyes sparkled with something between amusement and calculation, like she was already imagining what she could do with him next. “Well, we better get back to work. We don't want anyone to get any ideas, do we LDCS?" Kayla asked with a sweet smile, emphasizing the nickname in a way that sent a fresh wave of humiliation through Derek's system. “You’ve got some time to clean yourself up before the client meeting at one.”
Derek’s breath hitched as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, his knees crackling in protest. The cold air hit his soaked tie, the semen-soaked fabric clinging unpleasantly to his chest. He wiped at his face with the back of his hand, but only succeeded in smearing the cum further across his cheek and into his hairline.
The sticky residue clung to his skin, his tie, the collar of his shirt—everywhere he touched only made it worse. He could feel it drying, hardening, a physical reminder of what he’d just allowed to happen.
The group left him there in the alley. Walking back to their normal work lives as if nothing had happened. As they went through the door, Kathy glanced back over at him still on his knees. "I can't wait to make you my bitch, LDCS." she said with a smirk and a mock salute as she disappeared through the door.
The heavy fire door swung shut behind them with a final, echoing bang that reverberated through the narrow alleyway.
Derek remained kneeling for a long moment after they'd gone, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his hands trembling against the cold pavement. The semen on his face had begun to dry, pulling at his skin in thin, tacky strands. He wiped at his forehead again, this time using his tie to scrub away the worst of it, but only managed to leave damp, crumpled fabric clinging to his chest.
The humiliation burned through him like acid. How was he going to get back inside and get cleaned up without anyone seeing him?