thank you to the amazing @ingoldthewizard and the lovely @winniethewife for being my beta readers 🩵
AO3
As one of the younger doctors at the Lennox House for the Mentally Insane it's been an uphill battle to gain any sort of respect from your peers. Well, not with all of them.
Starting an intimate relationship with a coworker was maybe not the brightest idea you've ever had, but Blue made it so easy to fall in bed with him. He was just too pathetic for you not to want to completely ruin him.
"Fuck, I can't even sit down anymore without getting a hard on," you watch Blue squirm, eyes shifting around the place, desperately avoiding your gaze entirely. "Every time something even brushes against the fucking welts you leave behind I get rock hard. How fucked up is that? You fucked me up, Doctor!"
You know he's trying to sound accusing, but he can't hide the embarrassed whine, the desire in his voice. He wants this; he craves the humiliation, the degradation, the pain you give him.
"And yet here you are," you counter with a smug smile.
He's hovering in front of your desk, not sitting down but not standing still either. On some, mainly the patients, this may come across as intimidating. To you this wet blanket of a man couldn't be truly intimidating even if he tried. He has never dared to so far.
You wait a moment for him to talk again but he stays silent, still avoiding your gaze. It's starting to irritate you.
"Talk, you useless mutt!"
He flinches at your stern voice, his head turning down to face the ground like a scolded schoolboy, mumbling something you can't quite catch. You uncross your legs and stand up from your desk chair.
"If you can't speak clearly I should just gag you. At least then I don't have to suffer your pathetic whining."
He whimpers in response and you've half a mind to take out the riding crop you keep in your desk before Blue repeats himself.
"I need you to hurt me again."
Fighting down a smirk you raise your eyebrow instead, "Go on."
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. His earlier outburst had hidden the nervous energy radiating off of him, but with his body practically vibrating it would be difficult not to notice it now. It's a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, especially compared to how he acts in front of the patients. Out there he is the boss, the top dog, the head orderly. In here he is nothing more than a nervous boy getting off on pain and hating himself for it.
Pathetic.
Deliciously pathetic.
"Do you truly need it? Or do you just want to fuck around because you want to avoid work?"
Your accusation is made teasingly, your tone kept light but mocking. He bristles at you.
"All patients are taken care of and there are nurses and orderlies on stand by should anything out of the ordinary happen," he counters seriously, finally daring to look you in the eyes.
You grin like the cat that caught the canary.
"So you're not a slacker, just a simple pervert."
His stern look turns wide, his annoyed frown at being called incompetent falls slack in surprise. You swear you can see his face slowly turn red by the second.
"I- That's- How dare you-"
The sudden smack of your palm connecting with his check reverberates through your office. Blue chokes on a moan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Did I give you permission to talk back to me?"
Blue whimpers softly, his cheek stinging hot where you slapped him. He shakes his head quickly, eyes wet. "No, Doctor. I am sorry, Doctor."
You click your tongue, "You really are a useless little thing, aren't you. A pathetic little worm who gets off on pain."
You walk around your desk, stopping just a few inches away from Blue, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
"What would your patients think if they saw you like this? Your coworkers? Nobody would ever take you seriously again."
He swallows hard, his heart beating out of his chest. Your eyes travel downwards towards the very noticeable bulge in his pants. Once again you click your tongue disapprovingly.
"You're hard already? From that little slap?"
Nervously he chews on his lower lip, leaving it raw and bleeding before he replies.
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't- I can't help myself," he says, almost choking on his own breath between sobs, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Blood is blooming from his trembling lip and you have the urge to open up the wound even further, to bite and rip and tear.
"It feels so good when you hurt me," he whines and finally looks at you, his eyes wide and red with tears, "Please, do it again."
Without further ado you slap him across his other cheek. Blue gasps, almost surprised that you let him have what he asked for so easily. He licks his lips, tasting copper, and thanks you like it's a prayer.
You step back and sit down on the edge of your desk.
"Kneel."
Just one word and his knees buckle and give out under him. He hits the floor hard, the carpet doing nothing against the sudden pain shooting up his legs. Blue groans, a sound between pleasure and pain as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You in turn look at him like he is dirt under your shoe.
"I don't appreciate you waltzing in here like this," you explain calmly, "When I hurt you I like to be prepared. Your impulsiveness and depravity robs me of the time I need to gather the tools to really hurt you."
Blue swallows hard, a look of guilt crossing his face before he turns his head downward.
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry," he babbles towards the ground.
You sigh in annoyance. "You have to learn patience. Good things come to those who wait."
He awkwardly shifts on his knees, continuing to whisper, "I'm sorry." He seems sorry or at least chastised enough to feel bad. But will he actually learn his lesson?
"I should leave you like this as punishment," you ponder out loud, "Or refuse to touch you in any way for the next week or so. Maybe even a month."
You watch him flinch, his head shooting up immediately.
"You can't do that! I-"
"I can do whatever I want. You're the pervert who needs me to cut, beat and bruise you to get off."
His hands shake like an addict's who just heard he was going cold turkey. Blue wants to fight you, force you to give him what he needs but you're right. And he hates it.
"Don't worry," you say, your voice saccharine as you hop off your desk and grab his hair, pulling his head back so he is forced to look at you. "I will hurt you. All I want is that in the future you give me the time to prepare so I can really show you pain."
You tighten the grip on his hair, pulling his head back hard enough to rip out individual hairs.
"You can do that for me, can't you?"
"Yes, Doctor. Yes, I can," he replies breathlessly.
As you release your grip on his hair Blue all but collapses forward like a marionette with its strings cut.
You use your foot to shove him backwards, his back hitting the floor and his legs falling apart. Keeping your balance you step on his chest, applying just enough pressure for him to stay down. His breath catches in his throat, stunned silent for a moment, his eyes begging you to step on his throat and choke him.
"It would be so easy to squish you like the irritating bug you are," you ponder out loud, "And you'd thank me for it, wouldn't you?"
You shift your weight onto the foot currently pressing into his chest and Blue gasps for air. The tears have returned, steadily blocking his vision before they wet his cheeks. "Yes, Doctor," he whimpers, red-faced. You drag your foot down along his torso, down towards the embarrassing tent in his pants. You shift your weight again, slowly increasing the pressure on his hard cock. He's thrashing beneath you, both trying to avoid and move into the press of your shoe. You raise an eyebrow expectantly, waiting. Blue's cries of suffering are betrayed by the pre-cum staining the front of his pants.
"What are you waiting for then?“ you growl, steadily growing more and more irritated. Impatiently you dig your heel into his testicles. He screams out in pain. Reduced to pathetic sobbing Blue keeps repeating thank yous.
Satisfied with his trembling state you lift your foot away from his crotch again and take a step back. His eyes immediately follow you, brows furrowed in confusion and panic. You look down at Blue, pondering what to do with him now. Your gaze wanders over the room, searching for inspiration, for any implement of pain you can find. Your eyes rest on your desk and you remember a small device hidden deep in one of its drawers. Ignoring Blue writhing on the floor you step over him and around your desk. It doesn't take long to find the desired object, a metal cylinder connected to a metal ring and with a lock attached on one end and a small funnel on the other. Thick spikes protrude from the inner walls of the palm-sized cylinder like a miniature iron maiden.
You hold the cock cage tightly in your hand, keeping it out of sight for now. "Get yourself off," you order sharply, fixing Blue with a stern look. He holds your gaze barely, swallowing hard. His right hand hesitantly reaches for the front of his pants, slowly pulling it and his boxers down and letting his hard length spring free. "Don't keep me waiting. I don't have all day since somebody couldn't schedule time with me beforehand." Immediately Blue hurries to wrap his hand around his cock. The already spilled pre-cum helps the smooth slide of his length against the palm of his hand. He bites his lower lip in a fruitless attempt to silence his embarrassing whimpers as he fucks his own hand desperately. "Stop," you order and only once he halts his movements do you walk towards him, your hands behind your back, and lean forward. You gather saliva in your mouth just to spit on his hand and cock. "Continue." Blue can't help but moan at the feeling of your spit mixing with his pre-cum. Compared to your usual methods of pain and pleasure this feels oddly kind, a feeling Blue is not very familiar with. Under your direction Blue quickly strokes his cock to a painful degree. Too fast, too rough, too tight. But the pain only ever adds to his pleasure like salt bringing out the natural sweetness of fruits. When he finally comes, his seed spilling over his hand, face scrunched up in pleasure, you bend down to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together so he instinctually opens his mouth, and spit right into it for good measure. Blue moans and swallows it down without a second thought, keeping his mouth wide open afterwards, panting and still delirious from his orgasm. "You're such a perverted slut, Blue."
You turn your gaze from his face to his cock, his length slowly going limp, and back again. Slowly you reveal the object that you had hidden behind your back and hold it in front of Blue's face. "This is my gift to you until after my shift. If you're good until then I might even let you touch me." The promise of being allowed to put his hands on your skin has his eyes light up with desire again. Seeing Blue lulled into a false sense of security like this makes you feel giddy. The pathetic runt hasn't even seen the inside yet. "Think you can take a few hours in this cock cage?" Blue nods eagerly, desperate to prove himself to you so you will hurt him again in the future. He's an addict, even if he can't admit it to himself yet. You're happy to take advantage of it.
"Of course! That's nothing," Blue announces confidently, his inane posturing returning post orgasm. You chuckle to yourself.
"If you say so."
You kneel down next to his crotch lifting his sticky cock up slightly. Blue flinches, your touch too much for his sensitive member. You shush him when he starts whimpering like a scared dog. "Hold still," you order and place his flaccid cock inside the cage. Blue twitches as he feels the spikes surrounding his length. Once the cage clicks shut, the metal ring gripping his balls tightly and the whole contraption locked, you hear Blue curse under his breath. His face is scrunched together in pain, his bruised lip shiny and red with fresh blood.
"Fuck- You didn't- shit. You didn't tell me there are fucking spikes," he accuses but once again, you see how he avoids your gaze, embarrassed by how much the pain turns him on.
"You didn't ask," you tease, "And you were very confident this is nothing just a moment ago." The spikes clamp down on his cock incessantly, the pain unyielding. A constant reminder of the grasp you have on him. Blue isn't sure if the tears running down his cheeks are from joy or pain. "I should be done in about two hours. I want you to be waiting for me in front of my door on the dot." Blue nods quickly. He can do that, he can pick you up from the office. Maybe even drive you home after. If he's good maybe you'd let him kiss you or touch your thighs or massage your feet.
But first he needs to get upright without screaming. He feels like the cage will tear his cock to shreds. He hopes there will be blood or even a scar. A possessive part in the back of his mind grows dizzy with the thought of more of your marks on him.
Slowly Blue sits up, breathing heavily through the pain. You simply watch him as he pulls his underwear and pants back on. When Blue manages to get back on his knees without too much whimpering you get up and rise to your full height. "One last thing before I kick you out," you begin, "What do you say after a session with your favorite Doctor?"
Blue gazes up at you, so pretty on his knees, and licks his lips. "Thank you, Doctor," he pants, "Thank you so much for hurting me like I need. Thank you." He leans down, back bend, and presses his lips to your shoes, kissing your feet in deference. "Thank you so much," he repeats after every kiss until you gently tap your foot against his cheek.
"That's enough." You step away from him and let Blue rise to his feet. His stance is shaky, his gait even more so. If his coworkers knew…
"Two hours, Blue. Until then: enjoy your well-earned punishment."
Blue takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself, to prepare for the outside of this office. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll be on time," he promises, his voice still shaking with pain. He doesn't look back when he leaves your office. He doesn't need to.
AI writing, man. In this case, I'm not talking about like, "boo, ai writers will get attention and I won't." I'm not talking about my writing rn. I don't care about that.
I'm talking about reading. Trying to follow new people, ai. (no, none of you who are reading this and we are moots)
Trying to read in a different fandom, ai. (no, I'm not departing from OI like on ANY level. I just dabble sometimes)
Trying to venture out or spice up the dash on days off, AIAIAIAIAIAIAIAI
just...is anyone here right now???
Some people I admire a lot have unknowingly reblogged ai. I don't judge you for not knowing! Sometimes i don't know either! I'm just like, ai slop "writers", get your slop out of my online friends' eyeballs
On a productive note, what is your most trusted "is this ai" site/way to verify it as best you can??
(and no i'm not going around policing people. it's just been a lot lately but not in the oi fandom)
All of this! It's annoying as fuck especially when you see clearly AI-written/made fic or art get so much interaction, notes and praise while the work of friends and moots who I know put their blood, sweat and tears into their work get like 10 notes max. or no recognition at all.
Fanworks are a labour of love and people using AI are cheapening it for what? Tumblr fame? Kudos on AO3? Likes on Twitter, Insta and TikTok? It's so absurd to me and yes I probably sound old and bitter but it sucks!
As to how to detect AI I don't really use any online AI-detectors because I don't want to accidentally make things worse by feeding somebody's actual work into another AI, program or whatever. (Possibly paranoid of me but I try to be cautious.) Usually the good old "it's not x, it's y" phrasing is a good indicator. Oh and if a person posts multiple fics with like 5k each days in a row that's usually a good reason to be suspicious (unless it's kinktober of course).
Like they tried to change Reblogs and people rightfully got up in arms, this is a LOT worse. In order to have access to any sort of thing dubbed mature, and We haveALL seen what they think is mature, Everything from a black and white photo of a black woman's arm, to posts about IUD recalls, to a nude painted by a 17th century artist, to anything involving the word Trans; you have to send your personal information to a third party site that WILL get hacked, and you will be doxxed. And they can say "Oh shit, well it wasn't us who sent your name address and gender identity to Moldovan teenagers, here's a couple extra minutes in the ball pit.
That's bad enough!!!!!!!! But the entire idea of needing permission from state authorities to access anything labeled mature by our friendly AI overlords is some fucking Boll shit. Die Gedenken Sind Frie baby. This is all a reaction to people getting uppity about their lowly lowly rights and is being propped up by the same bad actors tht have made life unlivable. Fuck that shit.
"Well it's only being rolled out in Brazil and UK" Yeah, to start. "Well they're being forced to do this by laws." YOu know it's always really funny when these tech giants (Or whatever you call owning tumblr dot com) get really antsy about laws considering they pick and choose which ones they abide by.
This is a breaking point and it's going to be very interesting to see how we proceed from here.
Saw your reblog of Hobbyless Behaviour and started thinking about reader saying that Anselm constantly waiting to shoot everyone is Hobbyless Behaviour and him being
Absolutely. He'd be so offended!
He'd immediately defend himself telling you that shooting people is his hobby. That and betting on high school basketball.
Anselm would be mopey for at least a week after you said that to him. But that's nothing some heavy making out or a peace offering of sweets can't fix.
He'd immediately defend himself telling you that shooting people is his hobby. That and betting on high school basketball. <- WHEEZING! He would! They are hobbies! How could you not see eye to (coloured lense) eye on this?
Right?! How can you not understand that this is an absolutely valid hobby! Not a normal hobby of course because Anselm does not do normal and he prides himself on that.
Though this opens another can of worms if you'd suggest other hobbies for him to partake in. What would an Anselm-worthy hobby be? Competitive paint by numbers?High-stakes knitting? Raising alligators?
(And I love listening to your ramblings, Fen. They are fantastic each time 😌)
thank you to the amazing @ingoldthewizard and the lovely @winniethewife for being my beta readers 🩵
AO3
As one of the younger doctors at the Lennox House for the Mentally Insane it's been an uphill battle to gain any sort of respect from your peers. Well, not with all of them.
Starting an intimate relationship with a coworker was maybe not the brightest idea you've ever had, but Blue made it so easy to fall in bed with him. He was just too pathetic for you not to want to completely ruin him.
"Fuck, I can't even sit down anymore without getting a hard on," you watch Blue squirm, eyes shifting around the place, desperately avoiding your gaze entirely. "Every time something even brushes against the fucking welts you leave behind I get rock hard. How fucked up is that? You fucked me up, Doctor!"
You know he's trying to sound accusing, but he can't hide the embarrassed whine, the desire in his voice. He wants this; he craves the humiliation, the degradation, the pain you give him.
"And yet here you are," you counter with a smug smile.
He's hovering in front of your desk, not sitting down but not standing still either. On some, mainly the patients, this may come across as intimidating. To you this wet blanket of a man couldn't be truly intimidating even if he tried. He has never dared to so far.
You wait a moment for him to talk again but he stays silent, still avoiding your gaze. It's starting to irritate you.
"Talk, you useless mutt!"
He flinches at your stern voice, his head turning down to face the ground like a scolded schoolboy, mumbling something you can't quite catch. You uncross your legs and stand up from your desk chair.
"If you can't speak clearly I should just gag you. At least then I don't have to suffer your pathetic whining."
He whimpers in response and you've half a mind to take out the riding crop you keep in your desk before Blue repeats himself.
"I need you to hurt me again."
Fighting down a smirk you raise your eyebrow instead, "Go on."
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. His earlier outburst had hidden the nervous energy radiating off of him, but with his body practically vibrating it would be difficult not to notice it now. It's a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, especially compared to how he acts in front of the patients. Out there he is the boss, the top dog, the head orderly. In here he is nothing more than a nervous boy getting off on pain and hating himself for it.
Pathetic.
Deliciously pathetic.
"Do you truly need it? Or do you just want to fuck around because you want to avoid work?"
Your accusation is made teasingly, your tone kept light but mocking. He bristles at you.
"All patients are taken care of and there are nurses and orderlies on stand by should anything out of the ordinary happen," he counters seriously, finally daring to look you in the eyes.
You grin like the cat that caught the canary.
"So you're not a slacker, just a simple pervert."
His stern look turns wide, his annoyed frown at being called incompetent falls slack in surprise. You swear you can see his face slowly turn red by the second.
"I- That's- How dare you-"
The sudden smack of your palm connecting with his check reverberates through your office. Blue chokes on a moan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Did I give you permission to talk back to me?"
Blue whimpers softly, his cheek stinging hot where you slapped him. He shakes his head quickly, eyes wet. "No, Doctor. I am sorry, Doctor."
You click your tongue, "You really are a useless little thing, aren't you. A pathetic little worm who gets off on pain."
You walk around your desk, stopping just a few inches away from Blue, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
"What would your patients think if they saw you like this? Your coworkers? Nobody would ever take you seriously again."
He swallows hard, his heart beating out of his chest. Your eyes travel downwards towards the very noticeable bulge in his pants. Once again you click your tongue disapprovingly.
"You're hard already? From that little slap?"
Nervously he chews on his lower lip, leaving it raw and bleeding before he replies.
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't- I can't help myself," he says, almost choking on his own breath between sobs, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Blood is blooming from his trembling lip and you have the urge to open up the wound even further, to bite and rip and tear.
"It feels so good when you hurt me," he whines and finally looks at you, his eyes wide and red with tears, "Please, do it again."
Without further ado you slap him across his other cheek. Blue gasps, almost surprised that you let him have what he asked for so easily. He licks his lips, tasting copper, and thanks you like it's a prayer.
You step back and sit down on the edge of your desk.
"Kneel."
Just one word and his knees buckle and give out under him. He hits the floor hard, the carpet doing nothing against the sudden pain shooting up his legs. Blue groans, a sound between pleasure and pain as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You in turn look at him like he is dirt under your shoe.
"I don't appreciate you waltzing in here like this," you explain calmly, "When I hurt you I like to be prepared. Your impulsiveness and depravity robs me of the time I need to gather the tools to really hurt you."
Blue swallows hard, a look of guilt crossing his face before he turns his head downward.
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry," he babbles towards the ground.
You sigh in annoyance. "You have to learn patience. Good things come to those who wait."
He awkwardly shifts on his knees, continuing to whisper, "I'm sorry." He seems sorry or at least chastised enough to feel bad. But will he actually learn his lesson?
"I should leave you like this as punishment," you ponder out loud, "Or refuse to touch you in any way for the next week or so. Maybe even a month."
You watch him flinch, his head shooting up immediately.
"You can't do that! I-"
"I can do whatever I want. You're the pervert who needs me to cut, beat and bruise you to get off."
His hands shake like an addict's who just heard he was going cold turkey. Blue wants to fight you, force you to give him what he needs but you're right. And he hates it.
"Don't worry," you say, your voice saccharine as you hop off your desk and grab his hair, pulling his head back so he is forced to look at you. "I will hurt you. All I want is that in the future you give me the time to prepare so I can really show you pain."
You tighten the grip on his hair, pulling his head back hard enough to rip out individual hairs.
"You can do that for me, can't you?"
"Yes, Doctor. Yes, I can," he replies breathlessly.
As you release your grip on his hair Blue all but collapses forward like a marionette with its strings cut.
You use your foot to shove him backwards, his back hitting the floor and his legs falling apart. Keeping your balance you step on his chest, applying just enough pressure for him to stay down. His breath catches in his throat, stunned silent for a moment, his eyes begging you to step on his throat and choke him.
"It would be so easy to squish you like the irritating bug you are," you ponder out loud, "And you'd thank me for it, wouldn't you?"
You shift your weight onto the foot currently pressing into his chest and Blue gasps for air. The tears have returned, steadily blocking his vision before they wet his cheeks. "Yes, Doctor," he whimpers, red-faced. You drag your foot down along his torso, down towards the embarrassing tent in his pants. You shift your weight again, slowly increasing the pressure on his hard cock. He's thrashing beneath you, both trying to avoid and move into the press of your shoe. You raise an eyebrow expectantly, waiting. Blue's cries of suffering are betrayed by the pre-cum staining the front of his pants.
"What are you waiting for then?“ you growl, steadily growing more and more irritated. Impatiently you dig your heel into his testicles. He screams out in pain. Reduced to pathetic sobbing Blue keeps repeating thank yous.
Satisfied with his trembling state you lift your foot away from his crotch again and take a step back. His eyes immediately follow you, brows furrowed in confusion and panic. You look down at Blue, pondering what to do with him now. Your gaze wanders over the room, searching for inspiration, for any implement of pain you can find. Your eyes rest on your desk and you remember a small device hidden deep in one of its drawers. Ignoring Blue writhing on the floor you step over him and around your desk. It doesn't take long to find the desired object, a metal cylinder connected to a metal ring and with a lock attached on one end and a small funnel on the other. Thick spikes protrude from the inner walls of the palm-sized cylinder like a miniature iron maiden.
You hold the cock cage tightly in your hand, keeping it out of sight for now. "Get yourself off," you order sharply, fixing Blue with a stern look. He holds your gaze barely, swallowing hard. His right hand hesitantly reaches for the front of his pants, slowly pulling it and his boxers down and letting his hard length spring free. "Don't keep me waiting. I don't have all day since somebody couldn't schedule time with me beforehand." Immediately Blue hurries to wrap his hand around his cock. The already spilled pre-cum helps the smooth slide of his length against the palm of his hand. He bites his lower lip in a fruitless attempt to silence his embarrassing whimpers as he fucks his own hand desperately. "Stop," you order and only once he halts his movements do you walk towards him, your hands behind your back, and lean forward. You gather saliva in your mouth just to spit on his hand and cock. "Continue." Blue can't help but moan at the feeling of your spit mixing with his pre-cum. Compared to your usual methods of pain and pleasure this feels oddly kind, a feeling Blue is not very familiar with. Under your direction Blue quickly strokes his cock to a painful degree. Too fast, too rough, too tight. But the pain only ever adds to his pleasure like salt bringing out the natural sweetness of fruits. When he finally comes, his seed spilling over his hand, face scrunched up in pleasure, you bend down to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together so he instinctually opens his mouth, and spit right into it for good measure. Blue moans and swallows it down without a second thought, keeping his mouth wide open afterwards, panting and still delirious from his orgasm. "You're such a perverted slut, Blue."
You turn your gaze from his face to his cock, his length slowly going limp, and back again. Slowly you reveal the object that you had hidden behind your back and hold it in front of Blue's face. "This is my gift to you until after my shift. If you're good until then I might even let you touch me." The promise of being allowed to put his hands on your skin has his eyes light up with desire again. Seeing Blue lulled into a false sense of security like this makes you feel giddy. The pathetic runt hasn't even seen the inside yet. "Think you can take a few hours in this cock cage?" Blue nods eagerly, desperate to prove himself to you so you will hurt him again in the future. He's an addict, even if he can't admit it to himself yet. You're happy to take advantage of it.
"Of course! That's nothing," Blue announces confidently, his inane posturing returning post orgasm. You chuckle to yourself.
"If you say so."
You kneel down next to his crotch lifting his sticky cock up slightly. Blue flinches, your touch too much for his sensitive member. You shush him when he starts whimpering like a scared dog. "Hold still," you order and place his flaccid cock inside the cage. Blue twitches as he feels the spikes surrounding his length. Once the cage clicks shut, the metal ring gripping his balls tightly and the whole contraption locked, you hear Blue curse under his breath. His face is scrunched together in pain, his bruised lip shiny and red with fresh blood.
"Fuck- You didn't- shit. You didn't tell me there are fucking spikes," he accuses but once again, you see how he avoids your gaze, embarrassed by how much the pain turns him on.
"You didn't ask," you tease, "And you were very confident this is nothing just a moment ago." The spikes clamp down on his cock incessantly, the pain unyielding. A constant reminder of the grasp you have on him. Blue isn't sure if the tears running down his cheeks are from joy or pain. "I should be done in about two hours. I want you to be waiting for me in front of my door on the dot." Blue nods quickly. He can do that, he can pick you up from the office. Maybe even drive you home after. If he's good maybe you'd let him kiss you or touch your thighs or massage your feet.
But first he needs to get upright without screaming. He feels like the cage will tear his cock to shreds. He hopes there will be blood or even a scar. A possessive part in the back of his mind grows dizzy with the thought of more of your marks on him.
Slowly Blue sits up, breathing heavily through the pain. You simply watch him as he pulls his underwear and pants back on. When Blue manages to get back on his knees without too much whimpering you get up and rise to your full height. "One last thing before I kick you out," you begin, "What do you say after a session with your favorite Doctor?"
Blue gazes up at you, so pretty on his knees, and licks his lips. "Thank you, Doctor," he pants, "Thank you so much for hurting me like I need. Thank you." He leans down, back bend, and presses his lips to your shoes, kissing your feet in deference. "Thank you so much," he repeats after every kiss until you gently tap your foot against his cheek.
"That's enough." You step away from him and let Blue rise to his feet. His stance is shaky, his gait even more so. If his coworkers knew…
"Two hours, Blue. Until then: enjoy your well-earned punishment."
Blue takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself, to prepare for the outside of this office. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll be on time," he promises, his voice still shaking with pain. He doesn't look back when he leaves your office. He doesn't need to.
