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The air in the room was heavy with the scent of sweat and arousal. A single desk lamp cast a dim glow, not enough to offer comfort—just enough to expose the humiliating truth of Hendrick Easterman's position.
He was bent over the desk, black suit jacket bunched around his waist, thighs trembling beneath the stretch of black garters that bit into pale, bruised skin. His stockings were sheer, delicate, stark against the angry red welts that bloomed across his ass—Clyde’s handiwork. His cock hung heavy and untouched between his legs, evidence of his torment and need.
Behind him, Clyde stood silent, eyes burning through the haze of restraint he barely clung to.
“My God,” he muttered, voice thick with something between awe and contempt. “You’re such a degenerate, Hendrick.”
He leaned in, letting his breath ghost over the back of Hendrick’s neck. The doctor shivered, jaw clenching.
“Fucking whore.”
The words made Hendrick’s thighs twitch. A broken sound clawed its way from his throat, half-moan, half-whimper.
“You like this,” Clyde murmured. “I told you to wear it under your suit. And you did. Like a good little slut.”
Hendrick bit the inside of his cheek, sweat trailing down his temple. He didn’t speak—couldn’t. Not without giving Clyde the satisfaction of knowing just how much control he had.
But Clyde already knew.
He reached out, slow and deliberate, fingers running up the trembling curve of Hendrick’s inner thigh, letting his palm brush against the lace. He pressed lightly—too lightly—against the heat between his legs, just enough to make the doctor groan in frustration.
“Look at you,” Clyde said softly. “Bent over, marked up, leaking—and I haven’t even touched your cock.”
Hendrick’s hips jerked involuntarily. His breath came in shaky, shallow gasps.
“This isn’t about pleasure,” Clyde continued. “Not yet. This is about control. And you gave it to me the second you buttoned your jacket over that filth.”
He leaned in, lips grazing the shell of Hendrick’s ear.
“I own you right now.”
The words hit harder than any slap, more intimate than any kiss. Hendrick didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.
Not when the truth of it was dripping down his thigh.
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