LOGINBy day five, my body no longer felt like mine.
I woke up plugged, collared, and caged. My hole stayed soft and puffy now, constantly slick with Aiden’s cum even after hours. Every small movement reminded me of how thoroughly I’d been used. My belly still felt slightly full from the multiple loads he had pumped into me the night before.
Aiden was already awake, sitting against the headboard, his massive cock hard and resting against his abs. He didn’t say a word. He simply snapped his fingers and pointed between his spread legs.
I crawled to him without hesitation, knees sinking into the expensive sheets. The collar shifted around my throat with every movement.
Five days, I thought as I settled between his powerful thighs. Five days and I’m crawling to suck cock like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The shame hit me hard, but it only made my caged dick strain harder against the steel.
“Good boy,” Aiden praised, threading his thick fingers through my messy hair. “Get Daddy nice and wet. I’m going to breed you soon.”
I took him into my mouth eagerly, sucking and licking while saliva dripped down my chin. Aiden casually checked his phone with one hand while slowly fucking my throat with shallow thrusts. Every few minutes he would push my head down until my nose pressed against his pelvis and hold me there, cutting off my air until my eyes watered.
I gagged and drooled, but I didn’t fight it. I was starting to crave the roughness.
This is addiction, I realized as tears slipped down my cheeks. Real addiction. I barely remember what my apartment looks like. My camera is collecting dust in the corner. All I think about is being full of him.
After ten minutes of thorough throat training, Aiden pulled me off his cock with a wet pop and flipped me onto my back. He removed the plug and immediately replaced it with his thick cock, sinking in to the hilt in one smooth motion.
“Fuck—!” I cried out, back arching sharply.
Aiden folded me nearly in half, pressing my knees to my shoulders in a deep mating press. The position let him drive impossibly deep.
“Look at how well your hole takes me now,” he growled, staring down at where we were connected. “Five days ago you were so tight I had to force my way in. Now you’re opening up beautifully for Daddy.”
He set a brutal pace, pounding into me with long, powerful strokes. The wet, filthy sound of his cock sliding through the mess he had already left inside me filled the room.
I moaned shamelessly, tears flowing freely. I should hate this. I should be demanding my phone, my freedom, my life back. Instead I’m spreading my legs wider and begging for more.
“Please, Daddy… can I cum?” I gasped after twenty minutes of relentless fucking.
Aiden slowed his thrusts to deep, grinding rolls that kept constant pressure on my prostate. “Not yet. I want you desperate. I want you to feel how badly this hole needs me.”
He edged me mercilessly for the next forty minutes, bringing me right to the edge over and over again only to stop and let the orgasm fade. By the time he finally allowed it, I was a sobbing, shaking wreck.
“Cum for me,” he commanded, slamming into me hard again. “Cum while Daddy breeds you.”
I shattered. My orgasm tore through me so violently that my vision went white. My hole clenched and fluttered wildly around his cock. Aiden roared and buried himself deep, his knot swelling and locking us together as he pumped me full of another thick load.
We stayed knotted for a long time. Aiden rolled us onto our sides and held me against his chest, one hand gently stroking my back while the other pressed on my swollen belly.
“You’re doing better than I ever imagined,” he murmured. “Most boys fight this type of life. You’re blooming open for me so sweetly.”
His praise made something warm bloom in my chest, even as fear twisted in my stomach.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I whispered against his skin. “I had plans. A career. Dreams. Now all I can think about is staying here… being used by you.”
Aiden was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed the top of my head.
“That’s exactly what I want, Kai. I want you addicted to my cock and my cum. I want you to need this more than anything else.”
Later that evening, he introduced a new toy.
He had me on all fours in the living room, facing the mirrored wall. A massive, ridged dildo — even thicker at the base than Aiden’s cock was mounted on a sturdy stand. Aiden guided me backward until the huge toy breached my slick, cum-filled hole.
“Ride it,” he ordered, sitting back on the couch to watch. “Fuck yourself while I watch. Show me how badly you need to be stretched and used.”
I moaned loudly as I sank down onto the enormous dildo. The ridges dragged against my sensitive walls, stretching me brutally. I started moving, ass bouncing, eyes locked on my reflection in the mirror.
Look at what I’ve become, I thought, shame and arousal twisting together inside me. A collared, caged slut riding a fake cock for a man who owns me after only five days.
“Faster,” Aiden commanded, stroking his own cock slowly. “I want to see that greedy hole swallow every inch.”
I obeyed, riding harder, tears streaming down my face from the overwhelming stretch and pleasure. My caged cock leaked steadily onto the floor.
When I couldn’t hold back anymore, I begged brokenly, “Daddy... please.. I need your cum inside me…”
Aiden rose like a predator, pulled me off the dildo, and replaced it with his own cock in one savage thrust. He fucked me hard on the floor, gripping my collar tightly until his knot locked us together again and he flooded me with yet another load.
As we lay tied on the rug, Aiden whispered against my ear:
“Two more days in this penthouse, Kai. By the end of the week, you won’t even remember what life felt like before I claimed you.”
I rested weakly around his knot, heart racing.
The terrifying truth was… I was starting to hope he was right.
The second package never arrived.That was the part that kept my hands unsteady.Aiden’s security team had intercepted it at the building’s mail room before it reached the front desk—another plain envelope, another set of prints, this time with a tighter selection and a new note that simply read Tick. They logged it, sealed it, and brought the report upstairs to the penthouse while I was still trying to drink the coffee Aiden had put in my hands an hour earlier.I sat on the edge of the long sofa in the living room and listened to the security lead deliver the details in the flat, professional tone of someone who had seen worse. Aiden stood near the windows with his arms crossed, back to the city, listening without interruption. When the man finished, Aiden asked three precise questions, received three precise answers, and dismissed him with a nod.The door closed. The quiet that followed felt heavier than the report.Aiden didn’t move for a long moment. Then he turned. The expression
The package was waiting at the front desk of my studio building when I stopped by at three to pick up a hard drive.No return address. Plain brown paper. My full name printed in clean block letters.I almost left it there. Something about the weight of it in the clerk’s hands made the back of my neck tighten. But the clerk was already holding it out, polite and bored, so I took it and carried it upstairs.Inside the apartment I set it on the desk and stared at it for a full minute before I opened it.Photographs.Not the ones from the exhibition. Older ones. Private ones.Someone had gotten into a cloud folder I hadn’t touched in over a year—images I’d shot for myself in the early months with Aiden, before the rules had softened, before the renegotiation. Nothing fully explicit on the first few prints, but close enough. Me on my knees. The collar. Aiden’s hand in my hair. A sequence taken in the penthouse that left no ambiguity about the nature of the relationship or the power in it.
By noon the smear had teeth.The original arts-blog piece was no longer the only one. Two larger culture sites had picked it up, each adding their own careful questions and a few more out-of-context photos. Someone had dug up an old interview I’d given three years earlier when I was still scraping rent together—tired, a little bitter, talking about how hard it was to get serious work without the right last name or the right introductions. The quote sat under a new headline that made it sound like a confession instead of a complaint.My phone would not stay quiet. Messages from people I hadn’t spoken to in years. A few supportive notes. More that were simply curious in the way people get curious when blood is in the water. One short text from a former classmate that just read wild how fast things change when you know the right people.I turned the screen off and set the phone face-down on the gallery’s back-room table.Aiden stood near the window with his own phone pressed to his ear,
The first message arrived at 6:17 a.m.I was still half-asleep in Aiden’s bed, the sheets twisted around my legs, the low city light just beginning to push through the penthouse windows. My phone buzzed once on the nightstand. Then again. Then it didn’t stop.I reached for it without thinking.The subject line was clinical: Regarding recent gallery representation and funding sources.The body was worse.A mid-tier arts blog with just enough reach to matter had published a piece overnight. It didn’t accuse outright. It simply asked questions in the careful language of people who wanted deniability. Why had a struggling freelance photographer suddenly received full funding and a high-profile solo show from one of the city’s most aggressive corporate raiders? Was the work the real product, or the access? There were screenshots of old social media posts of mine from years earlier, blurry party photos, a couple of poorly worded captions taken out of context—lined up next to images of Aiden
The gallery doors opened at seven.I stood just inside the entrance in the dark clothes Aiden had quietly approved that afternoon, simple, clean lines, nothing that asked for attention, and watched the first wave of people move through the space. Collectors. Critics. A few faces I recognized from the old freelance circuit. The large center print caught the light exactly the way we’d planned. Conversations started low and then rose as people drifted from wall to wall.It was happening.Aiden stayed near the edge of the room for the first hour, speaking only when spoken to, never hovering. Every so often his eyes found mine across the crowd, brief, steady, checking in without pulling focus. The new rules held even here. This night belonged to the work.By eight-thirty the main room was full. I heard my name more times in one evening than I had in the previous two years. A curator from a mid-size museum asked thoughtful questions about the alley series. A collector I only knew by reputat
Nine days.I stood in the center of the main gallery after the final walkthrough and let the number sit in my chest. The walls were finished. The lighting was locked. The sequence held. Every print hung exactly where it was supposed to, and for the first time since the project began I could look at the whole thing without wanting to change a single frame.It was done.Aiden waited near the entrance, speaking quietly with the director about opening-night staffing. He glanced over once, caught my eye, and gave the smallest nod, acknowledgment without intrusion. Then he turned back to the conversation and left me the space.I walked the rooms one last time alone. The large center image still pulled the eye the way we’d planned. The east wall breathed. The west wall kept its quiet rhythm. My name would be on the wall next to the entrance in nine days. The thought still felt slightly unreal.We locked up just after four. The interview from two days earlier had aired that morning on the nat
I woke up to the feeling of being filled again. My face was pressed into the silk sheets, ass raised high by a thick pillow. Aiden’s heavy, muscular body covered mine, one powerful hand pinning the back of my neck while his thick cock pushed deep inside me in one smooth thrust. I gasped awake,
Kai's POV The ballroom glittered like a golden trap. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, throwing warm light over hundreds of wealthy guests in expensive clothes. I moved through the crowd with my camera, dressed in my best black button up and skinny trousers. I was only here for the money
By day four, the outside world felt like it belonged to someone else. I stood naked in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror in the master bedroom, legs shaking, hands clasped behind my back exactly as Aiden had commanded. The thick black leather collar felt heavier around my throat today.
By the third day, I had stopped pretending I had any control left. I knelt in the middle of the living room, completely naked except for the thick leather collar around my throat and the heavy steel cage locked around my cock. My wrists were bound behind my back with soft black rope. A thick vibr







