Tag: rhack

Kinktober Day 10: Telepathic Bonds, Waxplay, Hair-Pulling

Handsome Sorcerer with his dragon familiar boyfriend!

“Rhysie? Rhysie,” Jack clicks his tongue at his familiar, summoning him with a crook of a clawed finger when Rhys looks up from his desk. His clawed fingers halt midway through transcribing a scroll, the glowing blue letters fizzling out into black ink.

“Is that time already?” Rhys asks as he lays the quill aside and rises, his long blue tail unfurling against the ground. Jack’s eyes prowl appreciatively over his familiars body, drinking in everything from the long legs striding out from beneath his robes to the jewelry laid elegantly about his neck, to the horns curling up and over his slicked-back hair. Jack looks forward to these times the most, when he and Rhys connect on the closest level.

“You bet it is. C’mere, pumpkin.” Jack spreads his legs, eyes glowing with greenish fire as his familiar comes to kneel before him, Rhys’ clawed hands pressing obediently into his lap as he tilts his chin back and waits.

“Such a patient boy…even though I know you crave this too,” Jack murmurs, hand lifting off the arm of his throne to stroke through Rhys’ hair, minding the base of his horns. His finger brushes up against one, drawing a pleased purr from deep within the familiar’s throat.

“Sir…please…”

Jack smirks and continues to stroke through Rhys’ hair, occasionally tugging a little harder than necessary. Not that his familiar minds. Rhys leans into the touch, anticipating what’s to come.

“So loyal…so dedicated…” Jack croons as he reached to his right, plucking a single yellow candle from the sconce bolted to the wall. He holds it tight in his palms for a moment until the flame glows vibrant green, sending wax cascading down towards the base. But before it can touch Jack’s hand he tips it over, letting the wax drip instead upon the supplicant head and shoulders of his familiar.

Rhys moans as the scalding material drips onto his skin, running down his body in thick rivulets before it slows and hardens. He shivers as Jack douses him in the melting candle, far more pleasured than pained as Jack’s magic seeps into his flesh, sharing power between them.

“Sir…” Rhys groans, clawed hands now finding the cold stone of the floor beneath him as he leans forward, lips parting to reveal long fangs and a winding, needy tongue. “Please…let me…”

Jack spreads his legs out further in permission, his other hand settling back into Rhys’ hair as the familiar leans forward, unzipping Jack’s pants with his teeth before his tongue winds inside to lap at the sorcerer’s cock. He hisses as Rhys’ mouth deftly finds the head of his dick and sucks it past his lips, adorably indulgent noises tingling up and down his shaft. Jack keeps one hand wound in Rhys’ hair as the other grabs at one horn, tugging him closer as he feels not only his own arousal, but also his familiar’s—a well as his loyalty, his need to please, his pain at the boiling wax still drying on his skin.

Power builds between them as their arousal blooms, magical bond strengthening as Rhys’ lips and tongue lap and stroke along Jack’s cock. The sorcerer pulls harder on his familiar’s head, yanking him forward and back. Rhys’ tail swishes across the stone floor, his little wings beating against his back as he too grows closer and closer to the edge, finally brought to orgasm through the feeling of Jack’s cock and the bond between them alone.

Jack shudders and shoots down Rhys’ throat mere moments later, tossing his head back against his throne as his familiar swallows it all down, solidifying the mystic ties binding the together. Rhys sucks and laps until Jack’s been completely worked dry, at which point he finally pops off with a lusty gasp. Cum drips down his chin to join the wax now dry and cracked against his tattooed chest.

“Mmm. Good boy, Rhysie.” Jack relaxes into his throne as he pats his familiar’s head, pleased to feel the bond between he and his magical conduit strengthened once again. Rhys purrs, satisfied as a pet cat, as he climbs into Jack’s lap, craving his sorcerer’s attention even with their souls so intimately linked.

Jack is always happy to indulge him.

Kinktober Day 10: Micro/Macro

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Something where Jack is the monster under Rhys’ bed?? I dunno. 

Jack feels like he’s already waited long enough.

Three boyfriends, five pounds of ice cream weight, dozens of jerk-off sessions and more than a few fits of crying. He’s witnessed it all underneath his victims bed, but not until tonight has he felt emboldened enough to crawl out and actually do something about it.

Usually he’s content to infect his prey—Rhys, he knew from all the conversations he’d overheard—with nightmares or waking terrors, showing himself only to drain the fear from the young man’s thoughts, but tonight he’s sick and tired of listening to Rhys bitch and moan about how boyfriend number three did him dirty.

The initial reveal goes about as well as Jack expects. Plenty of screaming, and he only barely dodges a lamp swung at his head as Rhys jumps to his feet atop his bed, trying to look intimidating towards Jack, whose head already nearly touches the ceiling.

Thankfully Rhys screams less when Jack pushes their lips together, tongue weaving out from behind his long fangs to penetrate into the young man’s mouth.

Rhys is so much smaller in comparison, dwarfed by Jack’s monstrous bulk as he holds him close. The sheer difference in their size does crazy things to Jack, and for the first time in far too long he feels his arousal rise up to its peak. His groin twitches in need, slitted genitals parting to reveal the head of his cock, followed by a long slick shaft.

“Ooh,” Rhys moans when Jack finally pulls away from the kiss, his lips covered in saliva and chin raked with little scratches from Jack’s teeth. Much to the monster’s surprise, however, Rhys looks less terrified than he had before when he’d tried to brain Jack with a lamp, and a lot more into what’s going on. Jack grins wickedly at this, pupils slitting in the sea of surreal green and blue of his eyes.

“You’re too good for those assholes…” Jack’s oily black tongue licks at his fangs as his claws affectionately squeezed Rhys’ body, feeling up his tender, human form as his cock thickens between the young man’s legs. “You need a real man to show you a good time, sugar.”

“I…I’m pretty sure you’re not a man…” Rhys stutters, only to yelp as Jack turns him around and tosses him back down against the bed. His weight bounces a couple times before Jack pins him down by the hips, claws digging possessively into the soft flesh there.

“Technicalities. When I’m finished with you, you won’t care what I am, kiddo.” Jack breathes icy cool at the young man’s ass as he tugs his shorts down to his knees. He clucks his tongue in pleasure as he spreads Rhys’ cheeks, revealing his tight little hole.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this…how many times I’ve heard dickless jerkwads waste their chance with you…with this…” Jack licks his fangs as he leans forward, tongue pressing against Rhys’ entrance. He drags saliva all over the young man’s ass before finally pressing in, the tip of his tongue exploring the sensitive flesh within Rhys until he’s gasping and rutting back against Jack’s mouth. He’s so much larger than Rhys is, he could probably swallow the young man whole from this position if he wanted, but no—he’s not interested in killing Rhys, merely savoring him as long as he can. His hunger has been neglected for too long.

The monster pulls out before Rhys can cum, wanting to feel the young man’s body tremble around his cock proper when he gets off. He flips Rhys over onto his back, drinking in the already ravaged body of his victim. Rhys’ skin flushes, his legs already showing evidence of Jack’s claws. His eyes hold a healthy mix of fear and need, his thighs open against the bed as saliva drips down from between his cheeks.

“Oh baby…” Jack drawls, running his claws delicately up Rhys’ legs before grabbing one in each palm and pulling him closer. “You’re gonna have some sweet dreams tonight.”

I just wanted to write a thing where mob Jack saves pregnant detective Rhys from a burning building, thats all this is

Jack was about ready to go home.

He hadn’t even bothered to dress up in his usual duds for this job, merely slinging one of his blazers on over a shirt. After all, a little evidence-burning wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. Even if said “evidence” was an entire warehouse down at the harbor.

Whatever. Jack had the dockworkers union paid off anyway. No one would suspect a thing until the cops came to investigate the smoking, burnt-out ruin.

Jack watched idly as his men moved in and out of the warehouse’s entrance, laying explosives and salvaging anything of value left inside before they blew the whole thing sky-high. The damp, night air kissed his skin, making him crave a cigar to warm himself up, but he hadn’t brought any with him. This was supposed to be a quick job. Torch the warehouse and anything left inside so Jack could curl up in bed for the rest of the night.

It’d been a little harder to get proper sleep lately, and Jack had always slept decently enough for someone with countless murders on his conscience. Didn’t help that the new detectives nipping at his heels were a hell of a lot less fun than their forebear. Jack pursed his lips at the memory of the last time he’d seen his sorely-missed Detective Somerset, who’d just had to go and get himself knocked up and thus ruin Jack’s fun by taking leave of his job. Jeez. Total buzzkill. Jack was really gonna let him have it as soon as he came back.

If he came back.

Jack hissed into the night air, feeling a little antsy. He watched as one of his underlings moved the last crate of explosives in through the door, before turning to his guard. Wilhelm grunted in response and cocked his eyebrow.

“Gonna take a walk. Keep an eye on these doofuses and make sure they don’t blow themselves up, huh?” Jack opened his jacket to show off the golden handle of a pistol shoved into his coat pocket when Wilhelm looked at him skeptically.

“I don’t need a frikkin’ babysitter, I can handle myself for a couple minutes,” Jack growled as he turned on his heels away from his guard and the rest of his scrambling men, walking down one side of the warehouse. He kept a respectable distance from the walls, just in case someone screwed up and detonated the explosives a little too early. Considering Jack only really trusted himself to do anything right, it seemed a valid concern.

He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, slouching into his stride as he walked through the misty night, the streetlights above him foggy and casting less light than they might usually. He tried to keep his mind clear of any unpleasant or annoying thoughts, idling casting his gaze about the deserted docks in front of him. There wasn’t much in this particularly spot apart from the warehouses, and the only noises he could make out were the distant sound of sirens and the hum of the freeways.

Jack was about ready to turn around and walk back to properly wrap this night up, when something near the end of the warehouse glinted in the faded moonlight. Jack stopped, recognizing the gleam of a car fender, then the short length of a grey-blue hood. He slid his hand into his jacket, fingering the handle of his gun as he started to approach once more. As he grew closer, got a better look at the car it became more and more familiar, sending a prickle of apprehension into his gut.

It was definitely Detective Somerse—Rhys’ car. Jack knew the license plate well, from pictures his men had snagged of the omega’s personal life. But Rhys wasn’t inside. In fact, as Jack looked around, he couldn’t see him anywhere. What the hell? Had something happened to him?

Jack peered through the dim window, eyes landing upon a sheaf of papers clipped onto a manila envelope. Was Rhys on a job?

No. That couldn’t be. Rhys was supposed to be on maternity leave. Jack hadn’t seen him out in the field in weeks now, for good reason. He was supposed to be away, tucked in his home nice and safe and getting chubby on ice cream pickles.

Jack’s heart plummeted as he turned away from the car, a sick suspicion rising up from his stomach as he raced back down the length of the warehouse back to where his men were gathered. He waved his arms and shouted, trying to grab their attention.

“Hey, assholes, wait! Don’t set it off yet, don’t—“

Jack couldn’t get any more words out as the building besides him suddenly detonated. The sounds of shredded metal and shattering ground blasted into his ears, nearly knocking him off of his feet. He stumbled forward, his stomach twisting itself in half as he watched flames explode out through the windows, littering the ground with shards of glass. Jack’s heart leapt up from the pit of his stomach into his throat, choking him as he watched the warehouse go up in flames.

“Damn it…damn it!” Jack snarled, deaf to the shouts of his men as they raced towards him. He wasn’t about to give up now, not when Rhys could still be inside that frikkin’ place. If Jack didn’t go and check if he was still alive, he would never forgive himself.

Jack stripped his blazer off his body as he raced into the warehouse’s side entrance, the heat emanating from the burning walls already too much to bear with the additional layer. He wrenched open the door and stumbled his way inside, coughing at the smoke that billowed out.

“Rhys!” He called, his voice scratching against his throat. The interior smelled awful, of burning raw materials and blast residue. He prayed that he was crazy, that maybe Rhys had never entered the warehouse at all—or that if he had, he’d been far enough away from the blast as to not render Jack’s rescue futile from the start.

The alpha dodged some broken glass and rounded a pile of wooden crates knocked askew in the explosion, only to find a pallet stacked high with reinforced concrete slabs standing in his way. Some pieces had already fell and cracked onto the floor, covering it in scattered rubble. Flames licked around on the other side, quickly eating at the structure holding them in place—yet even the smoke pouring in from all around couldn’t mask the figure lying limp and prone on the floor besides the stack.

“Shit, Rhys,” Jack scrambled forward, voice muffled by the hand clamped over his mouth. His leather shoes squeaked as he skidded to his knees besides the body, knocking away the bits of debris laying over the detective’s legs. For a moment Jack’s eyes swam too much to see whether he was breathing, but a press of fingers beneath Rhys’ jaw thankfully confirmed a fluttering pulse. Moments later the detective’s eyelids twitched, revealing bleary eyes that looked up at Jack without full understanding.

“Wh…what happened…” Rhys moaned before a rough cough cut across his words. His stomach, noticeably rounded beneath his uniform, shook with each gasp. Jack’s heart clenched with worry—smoke and blunt-force wounds weren’t exactly good for unborn pups—as he stripped off his shirt and pressed the balled material loosely over Rhys’ mouth and nose.

“Easy…easy cupcake, just breathe, I’m getting you out of here, ‘kay?” Jack assured as he slid his hands underneath Rhys’ legs and back, supporting him the best he could while remaining mindful of his belly and any potential injuries. Jack’s muscles strained as he heaved, swaying to his feet with Rhys cradled in his arms. The omega moaned into the shirt as he tried his best to hold it to his face. Jack turned his head and coughed, his lungs starting to hurt now from the heat and oily smoke as he rushed back towards the entrance, desperate to get back out into the cool night air.

“Boss!” Wilhelm grunted as Jack shouldered his way back out of the warehouse, his hands grabbing onto Jack’s shoulders and pulling him away just as a second, earth-shattering explosion burst behind him. Rhys cried out and flinched in the alpha’s arms as the building’s door nearly blew off its hinges, sending debris and busted glass scattering out over the ground.

“H-holy shit,” Jack gasped, casting a look behind him at the burning warehouse, before returning his attention to the omega in his arms. Rhys curled into Jack’s chest, cheek pressed up against one tattooed pec as he took deep breaths of the damp air. He held Jack’s shirt balled up in his hand like a teddy bear, something for his trembling fingers to cling onto.

“Rhys? Rhysie, you okay?” Jack crouched, laying the omega carefully down on the ground while keeping his back supported. Without thinking, Jack rested his hand atop the omega’s stomach, cupping the ample swell beneath his clothes.

“I…I think so…” Rhys gasped, his hand too coming to touch his belly, not bothering to push away Jack’s palm. “The…the baby…”

Jack ground his teeth together, his neck prickling with instinct. God. Rhys and his pup could’ve died in there. If Jack hadn’t been in just the right place at just the right time, the kid would’ve been frikkin’ toast. The thought made him want to cling on to Rhys and never let go, even if he was supposed to be on leave. Even if they sat clear on two opposite sides of the law.  

But he decided instead to do the next best thing. He looked up at Wilhelm who hovered above them, awaiting a command.

“Bring the car. We’re going back to my place. With him.” Jack slid his arm back underneath Rhys’ legs, managing to pull him up into his arms again even with the adrenaline starting to drain from his body. He could hear sirens off in the distance, steadily growing louder as the flames consuming the warehouse licked higher.

Jack moved in the direction of the car as Wilhelm raced on ahead to start it. He really wanted nothing less than to tangle with the cops tonight—especially as the only one he really cared about needed his help.

Whether Rhys wanted it or not.

Kinktober Day 9: Tit-fucking, Lingerie

Omega chests really were so sensitive. Especially when their heats were right around the corner, and while Rhys’ wasn’t supposed to be until next month, his body was already preparing itself. Jack could run his finger delicately down the middle of Rhys’ chest and get him shivering and mewling with need.

Fine, baby blue lingerie lay against the omega’s body, stretched over his hips and thighs and especially his sensitive pecs. His pink nipples stood stiff against the lace, inviting Jack’s touch.

“Such a pretty boy,” Jack crooned as he placed his hands atop Rhys’ chest, each palm cupping his pecs. They felt bigger against his fingers than they usually did, especially when he squeezed them together, earning a needy groan from Rhys’ lips.

“You really do look amazing, sweetheart,” Jack purred as he straightened up, palms reluctantly leaving Rhys’ chest as he straddled the omega’s upper body. He fingered his zipper, pulling open his fly as he shrugged his pants and underwear down his thighs. His cock stood nice and hard, pre-cum drooling at the tip. A little drop speckled Rhys’ panting chest, giving Jack a better idea. He thought at first he’d let Rhys suck his cock, but as he stared down at the omega’s sensitive pecs he couldn’t deny himself the temptation.

Rhys moaned in surprise as Jack laid his cock against his sternum, his eyebrow crooking up as he looks down towards his chest. Jack smirked as he held his cock down with one hand, using the other to push one of Rhys’ pecs towards the center to get more friction on his shaft.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy, Rhysie…letting me fuck every part of you…” Jack started to move his hips, rutting his cock between the omega’s trembling pecs, feeling the warmth of his plump flesh. The satiny lace and bows kissed his cock just as gently as Rhys’ soft skin, cradling him in a perfect valley of texture and sensation as he thrusted back and forth. Tracks of pre-cum dripped down onto Rhys’ sternum, smeared moments later as Jack’s cock rubbed against his omega’s chest.

Soon enough Rhys took over for Jack’s hands, fingers pushing into his pecs to press them tighter around his alpha’s cock. Jack grunted his approval, hands moving to plant besides Rhys’ head as he hunched over, growing less and less composed as he chased his orgasm.

When Jack finally came he painted Rhys with release from his chest all the way up to his chin, staining skin and satin alike as he pumped his hips through the pleasure coursing through his body. When he came back to himself Rhys still lied panting and red-faced beneath him, his own need still smoldering even with his chest thoroughly fucked.

“Mmm…don’t worry, pumpkin…” Jack crooned as he shifted, leaning down until he hovered face-to-face with Rhys’ trembling chest. “I’m not gonna forget about you.”

The little flushed nipples peeking through the holes in the lace were just too delicious to ignore.

Kinktober Day 9: Lingerie, Bondage

Done as part of a collab with @hyperiontrashbin!

“You really thought I’d be that easy to take down, huh?” Jack chuckled right in front of his desk, working the jet black crop over in his gloved hands. “You could just come along and overthrow the big guy, huh? A little upstart like you?”

Rhys remained on his knees, mouth moving only to lick the skin of his dry, bloody lips. His eyes remained defiant, even as they glistened with unwilling tears—though Jack hand’t got him full-on crying yet, he’d managed to squeeze out a bit through the lashing of his crop. Rhys’ body was covered with marks and bruises now, from his bare thighs all the way up to his chest and shoulders. He looked perfect, especially where the yellow of the lingerie Jack’d forced him in stained red.

“Hopefully now you’ve learned your place…though if you need a little more help, I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at you again.” Jack snapped the stem of the crop against his palm, the walls of his office reverberating with the sharp noise. Rhys flinched at the sound, as if expecting a blow. Jack only laughed.

“Good, Rhysie. You’re figuring it out. It’ll  be much easier for you if you respect daddy from here on out.” Jack leaned back against his desk, pushing his feet off the floor to sit atop it. He kept his thighs spread, pointing the crop down until the tip touched the side of Rhys’ cheek. “Now up, sugar. Show me how sorry you are.”

Jack had already screwed Rhys once, just after he’d bound his wrists, collared his neck, and snapped the lingerie onto him. The evidence still dripped down his thighs as he pushed himself shakily to his feet without use of his hands. Jack leaned back against the desk, watching with a smirk as Rhys eased himself up. Jack lead him forward with the movement of the crop, sliding it from the other CEO’s cheek to his chin as Rhys hobbled closer.

“Beautiful. You’re doing wonderful, pumpkin.” Jack set the crop besides him on the desk, instead grabbing for the end of Rhys’ lead and pulling him even closer. “Don’t be too beat up about this. Every CEO worth his salt is gonna have to learn to deal with…setbacks.”

Rhys’ lip twitched as Jack pulled him closer, until he stood between his spread legs, close enough to kiss. Jack quickly closed the meager distance between them, tasting Rhys’ bloodied mouth as his legs curled around Rhys’ waist, brushing up against the limp lace of the lingerie. He reached down with his other hand to pluck at the silky straps laid tight around Rhys’ skin, finally drawing a hiss of pain from him as he snapped it back against his flayed hip.

“You really are prettiest like this…” Jack murmured as his fingers slid to Rhys’ crotch, pleased to find his cock half-hard. A-hah. He didn’t hate this as much as he seemed, then.

“You ever considered giving up this whole Atlas game, sugar, and working for me? You’d be such a wonderful pet,” Jack hissed, amused when he saw Rhys’ eyes grow wide. With horror or consideration, it didn’t matter. Jack worked his fingers harder against Rhys’ cock, bringing it fully hard.

“Think about it,” Jack purred against the other CEO’s cracked lips as he stroked him off. “Who knows, this might help convince you.”

Kinktober Day 8: Angry Sex/Hate-fucking

It had, like most of their arguments, started off because of something stupid.

Jack had noticed a few days back, as he scrolled through Rhys’ newest catalogue, that the design for the Atlas Titanium looked eerily similar to a gun of his still within the prototype stage. But of course, when confronted, Rhys frikkin’ denied it like the liar he was!

“Just admit it, pumpkin. It’s obvious to anyone with two functioning eyes!” Jack growled, furrowing his eyebrows as Rhys turned away. “Maybe you need to get those cybernetics of yours checked out if you can’t see it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys replied smoothly, though he looked back to Jack, clearly annoyed. “It’s not my fault that you’re designs are so unoriginal, they can easily be replicated. Maybe trying wracking your pea-brain a little harder next time, if you want to—“

Jack’s hands grabbed Rhys tight by the shoulders, forcing the CEO to turn all the way back around before Jack slammed him hard against the wall. Rhys choked on a gasp, eyes flying open in pain and surprise before narrowing in anger. He struggled, trying to bring his heels up to rake down Jack’s calves but the older man pressed too close, jamming a thigh between Rhys’ legs just enough to unbalance him.

“Fuck, you fucking asshole—“ Rhys swore a moment before Jack pressed a harsh kiss to his lips, tongue immediately invading the inside of Rhys’ mouth. He struggled beneath Jack’s bulk, inadvertently rubbing his groin against the broad thigh stuck between his legs.

“What do I keep telling you about your language, pumpkin?” Jack growled as he pulled away, leaving only a humid inch or so between their panting mouths. “You don’t wanna piss me off even more do you?”

“G-Go fuck yourself,” Rhys hissed, earning himself a sharp bite to the neck. The groan of pain was music to Jack’s ears.

“Careful…” Jack smacked his lips, spreading the taste of blood all around his mouth. “Should you really be testing me when I’ve got you cornered like this?”

Rhys struggled as Jack pressed closer, though might of the fight had dried up within him. He still glared at Jack with defiance, but tilted his neck up as Jack went in for another bite.

“This’ll teach you to come up with your own frikkin’ ideas, pumpkin…and quit stealing from your betters.” Jack grabbed at the top of Rhys’ collar, pulling the gold buttons out of their loops to expose more skin, ripe for marking. Rhys arched his spine, the hard-on bulging out of his pants rutting against Jack’s thigh.

“Y-You know what they say….imitation is the greatest form of flattery…” Rhys moaned as Jack slid his hands about his waist, mouth now nibbling along the plane of his collarbone.

“I think I’d rather have you on your knees, flattering my frikkin’ dick.” Jack licked lustfully over the warm bites on Rhys’ chest, his hands sliding around and down Rhys’ back until he could roughly grab at his ass. He rutted viciously forward, keeping Rhys hopelessly stuck between his protruding thigh and groping hands. The other CEO moaned and tossed his head to the side, his neck already a mess of red bruises and glistening teethmarks.

Rhys orgasmed before Jack even got his dick out, not that Jack was about to let him get away with one. He kept Rhys facing forward, wanting to see his expression. He ripped the young man’s pants down his legs before stripping him off his underwear. He dragged one of Rhys’ legs up around his hip, leaving him to shakily stand on the other as he thrust his cock into the waiting hole.

By the time Jack came Rhys was sobbing, pleasure from the depth of his cock and pain at his speed, an utter wreck as Jack held him around the waist, now supporting the weight not held by the wall behind them. Jack pulled out roughly, watching his cum trickle down the shaking thighs of his rival.

“That’ll teach you….you little thief…” Jack growled in Rhys’ ear before he pulled away, though the dazed expression on the young man’s face looked far more pleased than Jack would’ve liked.

“Oh, yes sir,” Rhys panted through a smile as he slumped against the wall. “Wouldn’t want something like this happening again.”

Kinktober Day 7: Praise Kink

Intern orientations were always interesting. Jack always liked to pop in to take a quick look at the new meat, but beyond a couple jokes and light intimidation things usually didn’t get much further.

But usually Jack didn’t find himself in the presence of such a cutie.

He’d picked him out of the crowd in an instant, drawn to that long torso and those slender legs that helped him stand out from the rest of the interns. His hair was slicked back but without practice, as tiny strands popped out at his temples and hairline, and the charcoal blazer and baby-blue shirt he wore paired together looked simple but charming. More than enough to draw Jack to his side, at which point all the color drained from his face and he started to stammer.

Jack didn’t learn the kid’s name until he’d gotten him away from the rest of the orientation, into an unused meeting room that locked on voice command. Jack kept one hand on the boy’s waist as he flipped over the laminated badge hung around his neck to peer at the name printed in black.

“Rhys, huh? Bet when you applied for this post you never thought you’d be face-to-face with the big guy himself on orientation.”

“W-Well, sir, I—I always hoped, maybe someday I would be able to meet you but I…well…” Rhys tried valiantly to get his breathing under control as the color returned to his cheeks in full force, flushing him deep pink. “I didn’t think it would be—like this. Sorry, I’m just—”

“Aw, don’t be so nervous, sugar,” Jack purred, laying the charm on thick as he let Rhys’ badge fall against his chest, raising his fingers to brush the stray strands of hair back, “I wouldn’t have picked you outta the crowd if I didn’t like you.”

Rhys swallowed with a nod that Jack matched with a sultry wink.

Things were about to get fun.

Minutes later Jack found himself with his back arched up off the meeting room’s door with moans bubbling in his chest and his cock thick and slick in Rhys’ mouth. The boy had started off shy and slow, wary of those large, oft murderous hands that cradled his skull as he sucked Jack off, but his confidence had grown with the CEO’s pleasure and now he deftly hollowed his cheeks around the cock in his mouth. Jack could feel the boy’s tongue lap against the underside of his shaft, teasing and tapping sensitive skin.

“Oh baby…oh sweet baby boy…you’re so frikkin’ good at this…” Jack knotted his fingers a little tighter in Rhys’ hair, undoing any prior attempts to smooth it back. “They teach you this in college, or did you just pick it up as you went along? Or were you just—ah—blessed by talent?”

Rhys didn’t answer, but did moan around Jack’s cock at the praise. He inched closer, hands in his lap, still unsure of whether he was allowed to touch anything but the dick in his mouth. Jack smiled, happy to wring such noises out of the precious intern. He slid one hand down to cradle Rhys’ cheek, bringing the boy’s eyes up to look at him.

“I suppose whatever it is doesn’t  matter…you’re perfect, pumpkin. Not many are good enough to get their pretty lips wrapped around Handsome Jack’s cock.”

Rhys’ eyes fluttered in pleasure as he leaned forward, pushing past the limits Jack expected from him to swallow the tip of his cock down his throat, and any further coherent praise that danced on Jack’s tongue burst forth in a litany of mostly nonsense as his stomach squeezed in pleasure that wound all the way to his cock and shot down Rhys’ tight little throat. The moans emanating from the boy’s mouth brought Jack through the full swing of his orgasm until his knees felt a little like jelly and his fingers pressed hard into the boy’s skin and scalp. But Rhys hardly complained, sucking and licking Jack’s cock to completion and only pulling off when the CEO finally told him too.

“God…baby…Rhysie…” Jack moaned as his cock slid from Rhys’ lips, drawing spent cum behind it. “Dick-sucking skills like that and you’ll make executive in no time.”

“Is that a promise, sir?” Rhys chanced as he licked the remaining release from where it’d started to drip down his skin, a sight that nearly caused Jack’s dick to twitch again. He chuckled at the kid as he slid one finger down under his jaw.

“Tell you what, pumpkin.” Jack stroked underneath Rhys’ chin like he were a cat, admiring such obedience. “You don’t get hired after your internship? Call daddy, he’ll make you his very own personal assistant.”

Jack wasn’t about to let a mouth like that go to waste.

Kinktober Day 7: Body Swap

This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen.

Rhys didn’t even know it was possible. Hyperion had access to all kinds of bleeding-edge technology, but a full-on swap of two consciousnesses? Besides, even if technically possible, the odds of it happening on accident must’ve been astronomical.

And yet, here they were. Rhys, pacing around the office in the broad, clunky body of his boss, and Jack sitting with a surprisingly nonplussed expression and watching Rhys struggle to pilot a whole new set of legs from amused brown and blue eyes.

“You’re…you’re really not as concerned about this as I thought you might be,” Rhys hissed, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. It was Jack voice, one he’d heard a million times over in the man’s employ, yet paved over in Rhys’ panicked tone and uncertain rhythm. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, the back of his neck pricking with sweat thanks to Jack’s excess of layers. Seriously, how did this guy survive, even with Helios’ state-of-the-art air conditioning?

“Chill, sweetheart, c’mon,” Jack snickered in Rhys’ voice, making him sound sleazier than usual thanks to the damn pet-names he so loved. “What’s the rush? Maybe if we’d been doused in acid it’d be one thing, but if the worst thing I gotta deal with is shacking up in my PA’s body for a couple hours, I think I can deal.”

“God, you’re so—what if something happens? What if I need to be Handsome Jack? Oh god—I—“ Rhys resumed his pacing, paralyzed at the thought. “—I can’t do that, no, we need to fix this sooner—“

He turned around and opened his mouth, hoping maybe this time he could convince Jack to do something, only to find that Jack had unzipped his fly and opened up his pants while Rhys had his back turned.

“What—what are you doing?” Rhys could feel his face heat up, though he had no clue whether it’d show up through the mask. He stalked over in horror, his hands raised and unsure of what he should do. Jack looked up and raised an eyebrow, adopting his current face’s signature annoyed expression, with a little more smugness laid over.

“What? I just want to take a peek at my new goods, Rhysie. Calm down,” Jack dismissed as he, to Rhys’ upset, went ahead and stuck his hand beneath the silky pair of blue and yellow underwear.

Rhys’ hand moved before he fully realized what he was doing. He grabbed at the moving lump in the briefs, freezing when his thick fingers brushed up against something hard and warm.

“I—h-hold on—“ He’d always fantasied about having Handsome Jack’s hand in his pants, but not like this. He moved to jerk away, only for Jack to catch him with the other hand and hold him in place as he leered up with a lewd expression Rhys would’ve been ashamed to have on his own face—if the cock in his pants wasn’t also twitching in interest.

“Easy, pumpkin,” Jack purred, moving Rhys’ palm against his cock, “look how much your body likes me…I always suspected, but it’s nice to get some confirmation.”

“I…” Rhys started, only for yellow cybernetic to lift from where they gripped his forearm to tangle in his shirt and yank him down. Their lips crushed together in a kiss led by Jack, who hungrily dug his teeth into Rhys’ lower lip before he thrust his tongue into his mouth. Rhys braced a hand against the back of Jack’s chair as he felt unbalanced forward, still unused to a more top-heavy form.

Jack finally broke their kiss with a gasp, leaving his cheeks colored pink. Jeez, did he really look that way when he made out with someone? Embarrassment and arousal mixed in his stomach, but thankfully Jack distracted Rhys from his own face as his hands trailed down to his crotch, deftly unbuckling the familiar belt.

“How’s about we start here, pumpkin? I know my way around this cock…and then some…” Jack purred, scooting his chair closer as he unzipped Rhys’ fly and peeled down the banana-yellow briefs. Rhys moaned as his dick pulled free, and god, Handsome Jack’s cock looked just as large and thick as his shameful gossip magazines claimed. Slim fingers carefully slipped around the shaft, sending tingles of pleasure dow into Rhys’ loins.

“You have no idea how often I’ve wanted to suck my own dick,” Jack’s lips slipped open, glistening from a quick flick of his tongue as he leaned in close.

“Talk about a happy accident, huh pumpkin?”

Rhys could only muster a gasp as Jack took the head of his cock into his warm, pink mouth.

Kinktober Day 6: Daddy Kink, Cock Worship

“You really love daddy’s cock, don’t you sugar?” Jack purred as he stroked his fingers through Rhys’ hair, gazing with dreamy lust down where he was busying himself kissing the side of Jack’s shaft. Rhys didn’t respond—at least not in words—instead pressing his loose, slightly damp lips against the soft skin of Jack’s cock.

“Mouth full, huh? Well, no worries baby. I’ll let you enjoy your special treat.” Jack tried to keep his patience and not just grab Rhys by the back of the head and force him on his cock already. Though he enjoyed screwing rough and fast most of the time, occasionally he didn’t mind lying back and letting Rhys do as he pleased, even if he ended up moving slow as hell. Sometimes it felt good to be properly savored.

And boy was Rhys savoring Jack’s cock like it was an expensive steak laden with all the equally expensive trimmings. He kept his eyes at half-mast, eyelashes almost kissing his cheeks as he licked and sucked from the base of Jack’s cock all the way up to the tip, where he slid his tongue against the small pearl of cum beading there. Jack stroked affectionately through Rhys’ hair, his fingers digging in just a little bit harder whenever Rhys got a little bold and enveloped more of Jack’s cock in his mouth.

“Oooh, yes. That’s the ticket, babe. Just like that,” Jack moaned, chin tilted back slightly as Rhys sucked the head of his cock into his mouth, the tip of his tongue stippling lovingly against the sensitive flesh. Jack looked down just in time to see Rhys’ smile, the sight way too cute for someone who had a dick in his mouth. Jack shuddered, nearly coming from affection alone.

God-damn. Sometimes it really did pay to take things slow.