Erotic short. Mr Pike needs to learn to treat his playthings a little more nicely.
Explicit M/M cockwarming short between a cis male vampire (a crime boss) and a trans male human (a sex worker), with another trans man (boss’ secretary) giving aftercare.
Lucien Pike and Gellert Osgodby originally appeared in this TweetFic.
Kinks included are cockwarming, anal, barebacking, objectification, creampie and messy sex, sex with an audience, references to pregnancy kink, and aftercare.
Terms used for the trans man are cunt, cock, and lips.
“You asleep, boy?”
He had been, perhaps, almost, or he’d been dozing at the very least. His eyes flutter slightly as he opens them, shifting forward on his knees, which feel slightly stiff, and he moans quietly around Mr Pike’s cock, which is soft and cold and heavy, filling his mouth up, resting almost in his throat.
He doesn’t suck vampire cock often: the heavy weight of it is surprisingly pleasant, and it soothes his jaw where it would normally ache a little, if he was keeping it open like this.
Pike’s hand curls in his hair, slowly pushing him back, and Bevyn sits back on his heels, coughing into his arm.
He hears the door open behind him, and hazily turns his head.
“They’ve arrived, Mr Pike,” says Mr Pike’s secretary, a little vicious man with glasses as thick as anything. He scares Bevyn more than a bit — more than, truth be told, Mr Pike does himself, because Mr Pike hasn’t been anything but nice to him since picking him up. “Oh, for… Have you had that boy on his knees this whole time?”
“He fell asleep,” says Mr Pike.
“Jesus Christ. Go, into your meeting. I’ll take him aside.”
“I want him! It freaks them out, sitting through a meeting while I’ve got a whore sitting on my cock. You know what these southerners are like, all repressed. You’d know, anyway, bec — ”
“I’ll send him into you as soon as I’ve fed him some crackers and water. You can’t keep him in a position like that and then put him straight into another.”
“Oh, Mother says,” says Mr Pike in a high-pitched, hoarse voice, “Mother says don’t put your toys away wet, it ruins them!”
“In this case, Mother is right,” growls Mr Osgodby, but although he seems very angry with Mr Pike, he isn’t rough where he picks Bevyn up at all. For being quite a thin, square man, he was surprisingly strong, and he had no trouble at all lifting Bevyn up to his feet, turning Bevyn around and sitting him on one of Mr Pike’s big, broad knees. “Have you drugged him?” asks Osgodby, and Bevyn shakes his head.
“No,” says Pike. “Just put my cock in his mouth and sent him straight to sleep. Like a dummy.”
“Disgusting,” mutters Osgodby as he pushes Bevyn’s eyes open, looking at them properly, and he sticks his thumb in Bevyn’s mouth, tracing the inside of his lip and his teeth like he’s a horse. “How are you feeling, Bevyn?”
Osgodby’s tone pitches slightly higher, his eyebrows raising as he meets Bevyn’s gaze, and he speaks more gently to Bevyn than he does to his boss.
“Yeah,” Bevyn says, a little hoarsely, and coughs.
“See, he’s fine,” says Pike.
“Into your meeting,” mutters Osgodby, tugging Bevyn to his feet and making sure Bevyn is walking properly beside him into the other room. “I’ll bring him into you in a moment.”
Bevyn’s knees hurt slightly from being in one position for so long — it’s not extremely uncomfortable, just stiffness and a little ache, but it’s a relief when Osgodby pushes him down into a cushioned chair.
“Has he paid you yet?” he asks sternly, and Bevyn watches him flick the kettle on, reaching into the cupboard for teabags and a noodle pot. Looking at the latter, Bevyn feels his stomach give a sudden rumble, and he realises it’s audible when Osgodby says, “Hmph.”
“He paid upfront,” says Bevyn. “For three days. And extra for the bite.”
“Well, we’ll give you a very good tip,” says Mr Osgodby — he says this very sternly as well, as though it’s an order in itself, and Bevyn decides not to argue with him. He’d seemed very annoyed last night, when Mr Pike had brought him back from the bar, and Bevyn had wondered if it was he was angry, if he was in the middle of some infidelity and Mr Osgodby was jealous, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Mr Osgodby had made him eat breakfast this morning, too, pushed a sandwich in front of him while he’d made Pike do some paperwork.
There was a lot more paperwork involved in being a criminal than Bevyn would have thought.
Mr Osgodby took him by the jaw and pushed his head to the side, pushing his hair aside to better look at Bevyn’s neck, and his fingers brush over the scab from where Mr Pike had bitten him open. He doesn’t pick at it or do anything unkind, just examines it very critically with his eyes narrowed behind his thick glasses and then steps away.
He puts the tea in front of him first, and Bevyn tastes the honey in it as he sips at it, feels the warmth of it splash over his tongue and slide down his throat, but he eats greedily once Mr Osgodby gives him the noodles.
“We’ll feed you properly after this,” Mr Osgodby promises, still sounding disapproving, and Bevyn groans as he rubs a tingling balm into his knees, from the cap sliding around to the back of the joint. It feels very cold and then sinks in and throbs, making him shudder. “How are your hips?”
“Didn’t notice them,” says Bevyn, but Mr Osgodby rubs more of the balm into his sides regardless, and Bevyn wriggles, his cock giving a jump. He spreads his legs, trying to finish the pot quickly so that he can try to kiss him, but Mr Pike’s secretary laughs.
“No,” he says. “Bless your generous… heart, but no, Bevyn.”
“I’m wet,” says Bevyn enticingly. “And empty!”
“And I’ve nothing to fill you with,” is the dry retort, except that isn’t true, because Mr Osgodby slides a plug neatly into his cunt. “He didn’t fuck you from the front last night, did he?”
“Mmm, no, he fucked my arse,” says Bevyn.
“Good,” says Mr Osgodby, and sets the pot aside. “Not that I doubt your contraceptive habits, Bevyn, but Mr Pike is unfortunately prodigiously fertile.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” says Bevyn honestly, which makes Mr Osgodby give him a very severe look, and frown even deeper.
“Best he keeps to your backside, I think,” he says coolly, and Bevyn shivers. He’s really not sure what’s going on between Mr Pike and his secretary at all, because Pike keeps groping Mr Osgodby and Mr Osgodby just scowls at him, but he’s being very nice to Bevyn.
“Oh, good,” says Pike as they go into the meeting room, and he brings Bevyn up to his lap. Bevyn tries to turn to face him, but Pike turns him around and shoves him over the long table he’s sitting at the head of. He nudges his cock against Bevyn’s cunt, prodding at the plug in it, and when he finds he can’t work his way in that way, he slides his cock, huge and solid and slightly cold, into Bevyn’s arse in one movement. There’s barely any pain, but a sudden push of sudden pressure and fullness, and it’s so sublime Bevyn is lost in it. “We were waiting for you,” he tells Osgodby.
Bevyn whimpers, and feels himself burn red with a blush as he realises how many people are sitting around the table, all of them staring with their mouths open and their eyes wide at Bevyn. Bevyn hiccoughs, trying to hold back his next moan, as Pike pulls him back with a hand around his belly and drops him down hard onto his cock, so rigid in him that Bevyn feels impaled on it, and when he clenches it’s around Pike’s cock and the plug in his cunt both.
“I do apologise, Mr Pike,” says Osgodby, although he says it with some steel. “If you would be so good as to present us with your proposal, Mr Howl.”
Bevyn can’t really follow what’s going on — it all has to do with trade routes and numbers and percentages and such — but he isn’t meant to: he’s not meant to move, either, and when he tries to shift himself on Mr Pike’s cock, Mr Pike punishes him by pulling the plug out of his cunt.
He’s left open and wet, and while he can clench around Mr Pike in his arse, it makes his cunt feel impossibly, painfully empty, with nothing at all to bear down on. His own cock is swollen and pink, and at some point, after Mr Howl has stopped speaking and two other people have given presentations, it seems that Mr Pike gets bored as well.
Bevyn has been an obedient cockwarmer all day, has rested with Mr Pike’s cock in his mouth and has mostly been still sitting on it, but now Mr Pike begins to play with his cock, tugging it gently and rubbing his fingers over it, and it’s sending wet thrills up his spine, but Mr Pike’s motions are too lazy to get him anywhere remotely close to coming.
He’s so wet he can feel himself dripping down to where Mr Pike’s cock is spreading him wide, and he wonders if more of it is dripping down his balls. Mr Pike slides two fingers into Bevyn’s cunt but doesn’t fuck him on them: he just plays through the mess of wetness there, makes loud, slick sounds until Mr Osgodby pointedly clears his throat, and then he goes back to playing with Bevyn’s cock.
He could fall asleep on his knees — it was calming, relaxing — but this feels good, and he wants more.
As soon as the meeting is through, Mr Pike shoves him forward over the table and begins to fuck harder into his arse, and Bevyn moans. The people that had attended are quicker in filing out of the room, and Bevyn doesn’t try to hold himself back as he spreads his legs wider, whines for more as Mr Pike pistons his hips into him.
“What d’you think?” asks Pike, shoving Bevyn’s face down into the wood surface.
“Well, young Ms Wedder was lying through her teeth, but I respected her straight face. Whatever the Bretons are up to of late, I should like to keep a close eye on them.”
“And the numbers?”
“The projections seem accurate,” says Osgodby, sounding doubtful. “I don’t think Mr Howl was who they intended to send — he certainly kept stumbling over his words, although that could well have been because you decided to finger young Bevyn here like you were recording Foley for a film.”
“What’s Foley?” asks Pike.
The conversation fades into the background as he shifts his angle, fucking into him in a way that makes his cunt throb, it feels so empty, and Bevyn wails. Mr Pike’s balls are slapping against the back part of his lips, and it’s good, but he wants more, needs more.
“Mr Osgodby,” Bevyn whines, reaching for his hand, and Mr Osgodby looks at him disapprovingly, shifting his paperwork to the side and out of his grasp.
“Aw,” says Pike. “He’s asking for you.”
“Evidently you’re not satisfying him,” replies the secretary, not looking up from his work, and Mr Pike laughs his low, deep laugh, pulls back, and flips Bevyn over so that his back falls onto the table. Bevyn wraps his legs around Mr Pike’s huge thighs as Pike drives harder into his arse, and slides four fingers into his cunt, making Bevyn howl.
“You ever been pregnant?” Pike asks Bevyn, and grins at him: Bevyn can see the shine of two sharpest, longest teeth, and he shivers.
“No,” says Osgodby, like he’s scolding a poorly behaved dog. “That would be four this year, Lucien.”
“Fine, fine,” says Pike, but he winks at Bevyn, and at the same time scissors his fingers.
When Bevyn comes, it feels like fireworks are exploding inside him, and Mr Osgodby slides two fingers into his mouth to keep him from screaming too loudly.
“Fuck him with me,” says Pike when he finally pulls out, leaving come dribbling out of Bevyn’s arse, his hole still spread open wide.
“He needs to eat something first,” says Mr Osgodby. “As do we.”
“After,” says Pike, and then: “Please?”
“Please?” Bevyn echoes breathlessly.
Mr Osgodby huffs, but he and Mr Pike share a small smile that offers a modicum of hope, and Bevyn sighs as he sprawls further over the table.
“Plug his arse, Lucien,” says Mr Osgodby scathingly, but Bevyn doesn’t take it personally. “He’s making a mess.”
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