Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Greg’s heart beat in his chest as he pressed play
on the video. The screen flickered to life, showing him and Tony in the prison showers. Tony was behind him, his thick cock buried deep in Greg's ass. Greg could see the look of ecstasy on his own face as Tony fucked him hard and deep.
"Fuck, you look so good taking my cock," Tony growled on the video.
Greg's own voice was muffled but audible, "Fuck me harder, Tony. Make me your bitch."
Greg's face flushed with shame as he watched himself beg for more on the video. The video zoomed in on Greg’s hole and he could see how stretched he was
, how Tony's thick cock was splitting him open.
Bob chuckled darkly behind him, "You look so fucking hot taking a cock like that, Greg. I can't wait to see how you look with mine."
Greg's heart pounded in his chest as Bob began to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. Greg cried out, his fingers digging into the hardwood floor as Bob set a punishing pace.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Bob groaned, his hands gripping Greg's hips hard enough to leave bruises. "I can see why Tony loved fucking you so much."
Greg's face burned with humiliation as Bob's words sank in. He was nothing more than a fuck toy to these men, a piece of meat to be used and discarded.
Bob's pace quickened, his hips slamming against Greg's ass with increasing force. On the screen
, Tony was doing the same, his cock pistoning in and out of Greg's hole with brutal intensity. Greg could see the look of ecstasy on his own face, the way his mouth was open in a silent scream of pleasure.
"Fuck, you love this, don't you?" Bob growled, his voice thick with lust. "You love being a little bitch for us, taking our cocks like a good little slut."
Greg couldn't respond, his voice stolen by the humiliation coursing through his body. He could only moan and whimper as Bob continued to fuck him, his cock hitting all the right spots and sending jolts of pleasure straight to his own hard cock.
He thought about Tony, the rough man who had stolen his virginity.
The first time Tony had taken him, it had been brutal and painful. But Greg had learned to take it like a man, to open his hole wide and take whatever was given to him. He had learned to enjoy it, to crave it even.
The man who had taught him to love the pain, the humiliation, the degradation of being used like a fuck toy. He remembered the first time Tony had taken him, how he had forced his cock into Greg's ass without any preparation, just spit and a few harsh words. He remembered the pain, the burning sensation as Tony's cock stretched him open, the way he had cried out and begged for mercy.
But Tony hadn't given him any mercy. He had just laughed and told him to shut up and take it like a good little bitch. And Greg had done just that. He had taken it like a good little bitch, because he had no choice.
Looking at the screen he could see his hole stretched wide, how he let this man stretch his walls to the point it still was stretched today.
He could see how Tony's cock was covered in his own cum and how he was still hard and ready for more. He could see how he was moaning and begging for more. He could see how he was taking it like a good little bitch.
He could see the way Tony's cock was glistening with lube and his own juices. He could see the way Tony's face was contorted with pleasure as he fucked him hard and deep. He could see the way he was moaning and begging for more.
Bob's hands gripped Greg's hips even tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he continued to pound into him. Greg could feel every inch of Bob's cock as it slid in and out of his ass, the head of it hitting his prostate with each thrust. He could feel the heat building in his body, the pleasure coiling in his belly like a snake ready to strike.
You should be thanking me for reminding you of your place." Bob's laughter boomed through the office, the sound bouncing off the glass walls as his hips pistoned against Greg's ass. Sweat dripped from Bob's forehead onto Greg's back, mixing with the saliva he'd spat there moments before. Greg could feel every vein of Bob's cock dragging against his raw insides, the stretch burning as Bob fucked him without mercy. "You're just a warm hole to dump cum in," Bob growled, slamming his pelvis against Greg's bruised cheeks. "A pathetic little prison slut who can't even pretend to be a real man anymore."
Tears carved hot tracks down Greg's face, his choked sobs muffled against the cold office floor. His fingers scrabbled uselessly at the polished hardwood as Bob's cock rearranged his insides, each brutal thrust knocking the breath from his lungs. The pain radiated through his entire body - his stretched hole, his bruised hips, his aching throat from earlier. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the humiliation burned brighter behind his eyelids - the security cameras probably capturing everything, the glass walls offering no privacy, Bob's mocking voice echoing through the empty office. "Please," he whimpered, the word tasting like bile in his mouth.
Bob's rhythm turned erratic, his balls slapping wetly against Greg's taint as his thrusts lost their precision. Greg could feel the hot pulse of Bob's cock swelling inside him, the telltale twitch that meant he was about to— "Fuck, take it you little bitch!" Bob roared, his fingers digging bruises into Greg's hips as he bottomed out. Greg felt the first hot spurt deep inside him, then another, Bob's cock jerking as it painted his walls with cum. His own traitorous cock twitched against his stomach, a thin string of pre-cum dripping onto the floor beneath him.
The weight of Bob's body collapsed onto him, crushing Greg's battered frame against the hardwood. Bob's sweat-slick chest stuck to Greg's back, his labored breathing hot against Greg's neck. For one horrifying moment, Greg thought Bob might kiss him - could feel the man's lips brush his ear - but then the weight was gone, leaving Greg feeling hollow and used. Bob stood, his softening cock glistening with their mixed fluids, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips as he looked down at the wreckage he'd made of Greg.
Greg lay motionless, his cheek pressed to the cold floor, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air. Bob's cum leaked from his ruined hole, a warm trickle down his inner thigh. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed like angry insects, the sound drilling into his skull. Somewhere in the building, an elevator dinged. Normal people going about their normal lives while he lay here, naked and broken, a used-up piece of meat.
"Get dressed." Bob's voice cut through the haze, crisp and businesslike like he was ending any other meeting. He was already tucking his spent cock back into his tailored slacks, not even bothering to wipe himself clean first. Greg watched a drop of his own spit glisten on Bob's Rolex as the man checked the time. "I've got a conference call in ten."
Every muscle screamed as Greg pushed himself up, his legs trembling like a newborn colt's. His clothes lay in a crumpled heap by the desk - his tie still perfectly knotted from this morning when he'd thought this would be just another day at the office. The fabric of his boxers scraped against his sensitive skin as he pulled them up, the cotton already damp with sweat and shame. His fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, the metal clinking loudly in the silent office.
Bob had returned to his desk, scrolling through his phone with one hand while adjusting himself with the other. The glow of the screen illuminated his smug expression as he paused on a particular image - Greg's face contorted in pleasure-pain, spit shining on his chin, Bob's thick cock stretching his lips obscenely wide. He zoomed in on the tattoo visible in another shot - "Tony's Hole" in bold script above Greg's reddened entrance. "Quality work," Bob mused, swiping to the next photo. "The ink really pops against your skin tone."
The doorknob felt icy in Greg's shaking hand. He just needed to turn it, to step through, to somehow walk past the receptionist's desk with his head held high. Then a sharp "Greg" stopped him cold. Bob held up the phone, the screen displaying Greg's most humiliating moment in crystal clear high-def. "This stays between us," Bob said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Or this goes viral. Your wife's book club. Your daughter's soccer team parents' group. Everyone gets to see what a cock-hungry little faggot you really are."
Greg's stomach lurched, his vision swimming at the thought of Sarah seeing this. Of little Emily's friends' parents passing around the video at pick-up. The air conditioning vent above him blew cold air across his damp skin, raising goosebumps. His mouth opened, but no sound came out - just a dry click of his throat.
Bob smiled, the expression never reaching his cold eyes. "Good talk." He waved dismissively, already turning his attention back to his computer. "Close the door on your way out."
The hallway stretched endlessly before Greg, the corporate artwork on the walls blurring as he forced one foot in front of the other. His body ached in ways he hadn't felt since prison, each step sending fresh reminders of what had just happened. The elevator doors opened with a cheerful ding, the mirrored interior showing his reflection - tie crooked, hair mussed, eyes red-rimmed. As the doors slid shut, Greg finally let out the breath he'd been holding, his forehead resting against the cool metal. Somewhere above him, Bob was probably already dialing into his conference call, Greg's taste still on his lips. The elevator descended, but Greg couldn't shake the feeling of still being trapped.