Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 11

I wriggled closer and placed the tablet on the bed, with the video cued.

"Good, Steven. Now, take a few slow and steady deep breaths with me. And just focus your thoughts on how my cock feels in your mouth. Ready?"

"Yes, Mr. Thomas," I said, practically whimpering.

"Breathe in... And out... Breathe in... And out." He continued for several breaths. "Now, are we calmer and more centered, Steven?"

"Yes, Mr. Thomas."

"Now, as we watch together, I will tell you when to begin to stroke yourself. Okay, hit play in three, two, one..."

As the video played, he began a play-by-play narrative from his perspective and never stopped.

"Right there, when you rub my balls while jacking me off, that's so good. A woman's never done that, but you go the extra mile to please, Steven. Oh, and look how quick you started getting hard. You didn't even try to stop. I knew you wanted to be my bitch the moment you touched my cock in the woods. You do know how to please, Steven.

"Fuck, I'm getting hard already and look at your little ball sack tightening, Steven. I knew you'd enjoy the video as much as I do. Wiggle your ass for me, bitch."

I hesitated and thought about ignoring his command, but knew it would only add to my torment if he had to repeat himself.

I shook my ass, as I watched myself stroking him and then extending my tongue to lick off his pre-cum.

"You wanted my cum, Steven. The look in your eye when you licked my jizz off the tip, was truly the moment I knew you were my bitch, Steven. Oh, and look at how eagerly you took me in that slutty, little mouth of yours.

"You're getting hard again aren't you, Steven? Stroke yourself, Steven. Let's all cum together with me in the video, shall we?"

Something in his voice seemed almost hypnotic as he described how it felt, and my cock was betraying me again. I did as he ordered and began stroking myself growing harder by the second.

"Damn, I love watching you fuck my cock with your mouth, Steven. That's it, my friend, jack yourself off for me, Steven. When you cum I want you to yell out that you are coming for my cock. Got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Thomas, I understand."

"Fuck, my friend, you really did fuck my cock with your throat. No one's ever sucked me like that. Fuck, that felt so good." He grunted just as he yelled out in the video.

"Your mouth is so fucking good. Fuck my cock with that hungry, fucking mouth, you horny, little cock-sucking bitch."

"Look at your head bobbing, Steven. No wonder you made me come so quickly. Your fucking lips made it to my balls! You're the only one that's ever done that, Steven. Get ready, Steven, it's coming quick!"

I felt like I was under hypnosis. I didn't want to do this, but I couldn't stop myself. I watched my head back up to his tip then thrust him into my throat as I stroked myself faster and faster.

"That's it, Steven, come with me, my friend," he panted, as he was reaching his climax on the video.

"Fuck my cock with that mouth, you fucking whore! Take! My! Cum! Bitch!" he yelled in the video.

It seemed as if I was hearing my voice coming from outside myself as I yelled out, "I'm coming for your cock, Mr. Thomas! I'm coming for your cock!" My hand jack hammered my boner as I shot my first jet of cum onto the bed. "Com--ing! Ah! For! Your! Cock!" My body jerked as a blast of cum released with each syllable.

I nearly lost my balance, but held on to my cum-coated cock, and I could hear the sloshing of my jizz on my cock while I stroked furiously.

"Oh, fuck Steven, that was awesome. Thank you, buddy," he panted.

I struggled to stay up as I milked the climax, slowly stroking myself for every ounce of tingling pleasure.

"You've taken a good first step to redeeming yourself, Steven. Now put that tongue to work cleaning up your mess. Boy, I hope they washed that comforter last night, don't you?"

I sat frozen at the thought of the news shows over the years when they put the black light to the bedding in hotel rooms.

"Do it, Steven, and we'll talk about your punishment. Don't make it worse."

I licked up my jizz, as he continued his relentless harassment.

"Since you don't get back for another nine days or so. We will repeat this exercise every night until next Tuesday. Then you can rest up until you return on Thursday to service me in person. Will the same time tomorrow work with your schedule, Steven?"

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Thomas," I replied, adding the 'thank you' to hopefully soften his wrath.

"Officer Reeves will meet you at the airport and escort you to me. You, of course, will compensate him for services rendered. He is very pleased with your partnership so far."

My mind raced with what I was hearing. Every night! Fuck! I'll be home Thursday and Friday night! There is no way that could work. Caught in another lie!

"Well, there has been a schedule change and I will actually be getting in this Thursday morning around 6:30, Mr. Thomas," I said, a little too nervously.

"I hope you weren't lying to me again, Steven," he said in a doubting tone. "I'll have to talk to Officer Reeves, and he'll reach out to you about the schedule change."

There was a brief silence, as I continued to lick the comforter trying not to think about what could be on it.

"Then, we are done with our evening FaceTimes. You will, of course, need to come by here Thursday morning before going home. With such a proclivity for deception, you should have no problem explaining to sweet Amy about being delayed an hour or so."

I thought of protesting, but realized it would be pointless.

Then his thoughts drifted to a terrifying place. "Damn that ass, I mean my ass, looks good, Steven. I wonder if that's as good as that lying mouth of yours. We might have to explore--"

"Please, Mr. Thomas, let me suck your cock. I suck it anytime you need but please, I'm not gay--"

"Calm down, Steven!" he interrupted. "Just thinking out loud. I'll tell you what, my friend. You lied to me and there needs to be consequences. "I'll give you a choice, Steven. You made me wait forty-five minutes from my first text. So, you can choose the consequence Thursday. A, you can take a swat with the spatula on that ass of mine for every minute you made me wait or B, you can spread those firm little cheeks and take me like the cock hungry bitch you are."

"A, I choose A!" I shouted.

"You don't have to choose now, Steven, think about it and we'll talk Thursday, my friend."

"I choose A," I said, emphatically.

"Calm down, my friend." I wanted to scream at him for calling me his friend. "Get your phone and let's inspect the bed to make sure you've got everything.

I thought my head might explode; I was so angry. As ordered, I picked up the phone and panned the bed.

"Closer please," he said calmly. "That's better, now nice and slow."

I did not see anything I missed, but he, of course, needed to make sure I knew he was in control.

"Oh, that looks like a spot right there."

"It's not, Mr. Thomas, I assure--"

"Lick it, Steven!" he said harshly. "We already know you can't be trusted. It's too bad you've made it come to this."

I did as commanded, and so it went. He made me stop four more times and lick nothing.

When I finished, he gave me a smug smile. "Thank you, Steven; see you Thursday. Officer Reeves will be in touch."

When he hung up, I crawled under the covers trying to regain some sense of privacy. The good night's sleep I hoped for, did not come after that. I recalled what a few swats from the giant spatula felt like. Forty-five seemed impossible, but the alternative--seemed worse.

The spatula was at least two feet long, with a solid wood handle and a head that was four inches by six inches of heavy-duty stainless steel. The next morning in the shower, I contemplated my fate. If A was the best option, it was going to be a painful Thursday. A or B could make it impossible to sit afterward.

I decided to test plan B and soaped my fingers for lubrication. I slowly wriggled my middle finger into my sphincter and was shocked by how difficult and uncomfortable it was. But compared to the spatula, the pain was much more tolerable. So, I went for two. It was more painful, but still tolerable, going very slowly. I still could not imagine his monster cock no matter how slow. Then I went for three. Again, going slowly it was bearable.

I spent the day stewing about options other than A or B. Unfortunately, the only plan-C I could come up with was begging for mercy and I knew that would be a mistake.

The overnight Wednesday was in Baltimore. When I arrived at the hotel, Officer Reeves texted.

Officer Reeves: Hey Steven, hear UR gettin in tomorrow morning. What time and where are you parked.

I responded quickly just in case he thought like Mark.

Me: Flight arrives at 6:30. Should be at my car by 7:15. Terminal C employee parking level 3 sec C. You know my car.

Officer Reeves: Looking forward to it.

I did not respond and was relieved when he didn't continue the text exchange. After dinner, I returned to the room, and watched the video one more time, telling myself it was looking for something to use in my defense, if this ever got out. Nonetheless, my traitorous dick, responded to the images.

I turned it off and went to bed, feeling exhausted after last night's stewing. My mind replayed the images of the ugly turn of events with Officer Reeves when he made me use my 'skills' as a cocksucker in exchange for his 'mediation skills' with Mark. The memory of feeling him come in my mouth, started my traitorous cock tingling again.

I tried to clear my mind and eventually the exhaustion caught up to me and I slept through the night.

When we reached the gates in DFW and completed our post flight checklist, my heart thumped. My mind raced, trying to come up with an out from this insane situation. This was not sustainable. Two encounters, and I already felt lucky not to have been caught. Now, I was being drawn into another rendezvous with no idea what they might do next.

Once again, faced with no options, I headed to the parking garage. As I approached my car, I did not see the police cruiser. A new barrage of thoughts rushed in.

Do I just go home? If I did, and they reached out and demanded my services, what would I tell Amy?

Do I text Mark and ask for instructions? That would just make it seem like I want this.

When I reached my car, I sat in the driver's seat contemplating, when suddenly, Officer Reeves banged on the window with his flashlight again. I jumped nearly as high as his first fateful window knock, outside Mark's house.

I rolled down the window.

"Good morning, sir. We've had some reports of soliciting taking place in the garage, this morning. Can I get you to step out of the vehicle while I ask you a few questions, sir?" he asked, with authority opening the door for me.

My eyes quickly scanned the garage, terrified one of my coworkers might be around. To my relief, I did not see any signs of movement. I stepped out of the car and tried to cut to the chase.

"Can we please just go to your car, so I can suck your dick and go on my way? Please?" I asked, pathetically.

"Mr. Stilson, you just committed a few violations with that comment alone. Please come with me," he said, gripping my elbow and leading me away.

He led me toward the corner of the garage, where I saw the nose of his SUV in the last spot, next to the wall. When we reached his vehicle, he turned and backed his way in between the wall and his SUV, while he maintained his grip on my arm and pulled me into the corner. There, he backed against the wall standing face to face with me.

"I've got to tell you, Steven, the video Mark showed me of you masturbating and 'Coming for his cock', takes your stalking to a whole new level. He seemed very upset by it and wanted me to press charges immediately," he said, with a hint of sarcastic hyperbole. "Don't worry, Steven, I have once again used my mediation skills to help you out..."

My mind blocked him out as the absurdity of all of this overwhelmed me. This was only the third encounter and an inevitable sense of doom blanketed me. It was almost too predictable how this was going to go, yet I couldn't begin to fathom my escape from the grip they had me in. Every out had the same end. Amy finding out, our inevitable demise, and the children growing up in a broken home. Not to mention the shame from family and friends, if she chose to expose me.

"...of course, I will need some compensation for my efforts on your behalf," he finished, as the fog in my head cleared just in time to confirm what I already knew. I would have to service Officer Reeves first.

Next, I turned toward his car to get in the back seat...

"Where are you going, Steven?" he interrupted.

"To get in the..."

"Oh no, right here, Steven. That way we don't mess up my vehicle and if you take care of business, you won't get any on your nice uniform."

"But what if someone, sees," I protested.

"There is no line of sight from a vehicle into this corner, and no video surveillance in this corner. Besides, I can keep an eye out for you, Steven. Knees, please."

I stuttered trying to protest and he cut me off.

"Mark was right about your obedience issues. Do I need to report this?"

"No please. Okay, okay," I said, dropping to my knees on the concrete.

I looked up to him not knowing what to do next. He just looked at me, waiting.

A police officer stood before me, full belt and holster, with mace, a stun gun, and a.45. The last time, he removed the belt. I couldn't imagine he wanted me to remove it for him.

"Do you want me to take off your belt? Officer Reeves?" I asked, cautiously.

"You should know never to touch an officer's weapon. We are in a parking garage, Steven, I don't think dropping my pants to my ankles is a good idea," he said, and paused briefly. "Oh, I get it, you gave the full treatment last week and liked it.