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It was yet another boring meeting involving several wealthy clients interested in working with Ares Enterprises , global leader in green tea import-export.
Wang Yibo had just entered the third month of his six-month internship. Guys like him weren't usually involved in the more complex tasks with the senior staff, but instead they would make and serve coffee, sitting on the side. Interns would listening, in order to learn as much as possible without being in the way of those who actually did the work.
For him, this time had certainly not been an exception, but for his boss...
For his boss, he was going to make this afternoon as special as possible.
Yibo was carrying that damn tray, only twenty inches by ten that separated him from them , and when he set it down, he did so with a clang that was almost deafening.
Xiao Zhan had been in charge of the company for a few years, but from the position he held at the table and his gentle, humble bearing, one would not have distinguished him from the customers. He continued to treat them with polite courtesy, entertaining them before the meeting began with kind chatter, and was at the moment smiling at them. He had chosen for such an occasion the brightest and smallest room, as he always did. The round conference table was meant to make everyone feel comfortable and forget that they were in a potentially dangerous environment both for business and for their wallets.
Ah.
Xiao Zhan.
His Laoban .
He was behaving particularly well, of this Yibo was absolutely convinced, but it was also true that there is no such thing as a docile dog without a strict but fair master to hold him by the leash. The good behavior he was showing off to the unsuspecting audience wasn't just the result of his natural inclination to hide and conceal.
You could tell by the little things, really, if one was sharp enough to pause and look. Not catching him cross-legged was for Yibo the first piece in that great little puzzle of personal victory.
Yibo flashed a smile at those in the room and set the tray aside. Without being given a glance, he handed the cups to the customers one by one: seven in all, and what a struggle to remember the tastes each of them liked the most! Finally, he handed his boss the last cup and touched his hand with his finger a little longer than necessary.
Xiao Zhan did not flinch; he maintained a stoic facade worthy of admiration. Had it not been for the tense feeling in his arm, Yibo would have thought that Xiao Zhan was indifferent to his presence. Unlike the others, and therefore completely oblivious to any consequences, Yibo watched him for an eternity before stepping back and breaking contact once and for all.
Slowly, Xiao Zhan would start to miss him.
His forehead was slightly sweaty and his heart-shaped mouth relaxed into a grimace of indifference. But Yibo knew that face, had spent days and nights and more days and more nights minutely observing it. That wrinkle of tension there, just wedged between one eye and the other, was exquisitely unnatural.
All his.
Yibo merely kissed it with his gaze; a drop of attention that fell into an infinitely larger, immense sea. Only when Xiao Zhan thanked him with a nod of his head did he retreat to the dimmest corner, his face as dark as a panther waiting to pounce on a gazelle's neck. He brought his hands out from behind his back. Between his fingers he fiddled with a small remote control, which he teased without pressing.
And at that moment, with his broad back pressed against the wall in the absurd and false pretense of making himself as inconspicuous as possible, Yibo held full control over him.
Xiao Zhan must have noticed something strange, because he stopped abruptly, then resumed talking easily about everything and nothing, his voice clear, as if he had the situation well under control. He described the properties of the tea cultivated in the family plantations with the same ease with which he had sucked Yibo’s cock the night before. His mouth had been hot with sex and anguish.
Ten minutes later, with his forehead beaded with sweat, Xiao Zhan turned up the air conditioning, as if it really took so little to quench the fire Yibo had laid inside him.
Xiao Zhan was good when it came to dissimulation. He kept throwing Yibo vague, barely noticeable glances, taking advantage of the mildest of excuses. Look at the slide behind me , and then again, please, would you look closely at this champion?
But Yibo knew him better than he knew himself—isn't that what happens with the person you love, after all?—and he had glimpsed all those details and many, many more.
xxx
"What the hell are you doing? You're crazy, Yibo. You shouldn't be here. Get out, before I call the security,” Xiao Zhan exclaimed, his voice firm despite the panic darkening his gaze.
They both knew very well, however, that he was in no position to call anyone or to make any kind of demand. His hand remained on the intercom without pressing any button. If it weren't for the ripple in his voice, Yibo would have possibly believed that Xiao Zhan didn't want Yibo.
But Xiao Zhan wanted him, had always wanted him; he was even learning to want Yibo in all those moments when he didn't want him at all. From the time he had interviewed Yibo for a job a few months earlier, praising his thousand labors, to the time Yibo had generously welcomed Xiao Zhan between his legs to let him suck Yibo’s cock for the first time.
Xiao Zhan desired Wang Yibo. That was all that mattered.
Yibo smiled in response to his protests, a polite curve of his lips plumping his gaze with sweet softness. Sitting a respectful distance across the desk from his boss, between his index and middle fingers he held the object that had triggered Xiao Zhan's distress: a plug with a squat, transparent body. On the base, there was a small green jewel. Hanging from his ring finger, a red thong of the finest lace played hide-and-seek between one finger and the other.
"I think you understood very well, Laoban. Take off your clothes."
As he spoke, Yibo brushed his trouser pocket with the tip of his index finger. Out of it peeked the edge of a photograph. Yibo didn't even need to say the threat aloud; faced with the blackmail weapon Xiao Zhan visibly paled, and not without reason. Those delightful photos, after all, remained the first of a thousand concrete proofs with which Yibo had sealed their union.
You know what will happen if word gets out that you suck your intern's dick, Laoban.
And Xiao Zhan did know, because from behind the secure barrier of his desk, Yibo allowed himself a few more minutes to observe him. The confident expression from moments before gave way to an anguished frown, his eyes two delicious wet mirrors of certain and palpable anxiety. Deep down inside—and he knew this all too well—Xiao Zhan couldn't wait to be owned, marked .
Finally, Xiao Zhan pulled himself upright. Beneath his legs, the chair barely squeaked against the floor. It was the only noise that filled the four claustrophobic walls of the room. From that comfortably protected position, looking irritated and embarrassed in equal measure, he began to undo his belt with uncertain fingers. Tense as a violin string, a drop of sweat gently kissed his tapered cheekbone. Had it not been for his small, delicate hands that barely trembled, it would have seemed a minor matter—but that was the reason that Yibo wanted him, wasn't it? Unbreakable, impenetrable to anyone but himself. When he managed to catch his first tears, Yibo was sure they were for him alone. Only then did Xiao Zhan really belong to him; those very tears were his alone to admire and kiss away.
Yibo snapped and grabbed him by the wrist before he could continue, yanking Xiao Zhan towards himself with a sharp gesture. Xiao Zhan’s stomach was pressed against the edge of the desk; he let out a strangled sigh. Yibo was stretching his knee over the mahogany of the desk to reach him. The position was uncomfortable, but it allowed him to tower over Xiao Zhan, despite not being taller.
"Now don't start misbehaving, Laoban," he gritted out through his teeth, in that deep voice which Yibo knew could wring more than a shiver out of him. "You know your favorite intern doesn't like it when you hide."
Favorite intern . Xiao Zhan had called him that within a month of his hiring, praising his discretion and seriousness in front of the employees with a beaming smile. Yibo had nodded and stowed that small, great compliment in the chest of his most beautiful and terrible memories. It began with that compliment, then taking up personal space here and there. He used the excuse of wanting to bring him breakfast before work, then started following him to learn the secrets of the trade. Yibo had devoured him slowly, before Xiao Zhan could even realize it, making even the most insignificant and impalpable crumbs of Xiao Zhan’s very essence his own.
A flash of fear crossed Xiao Zhan's eyes. One could read it beyond his long eyelashes, behind the patina of apparent detachment that he wore like a fine tailor-made suit. Long, intense moments of silence followed. Then Xiao Zhan looked away, his face redder than before, and—yes, just as Yibo wanted—he lowered his gaze and agreed. A couple of nods of assent and obedience, that was all Yibo wanted from him.
Yibo's grip became a caress, his thumb and forefinger overlapping at Xiao Zhan’s wrist in a gentle kiss where the blue-purple trace of his grip would remain. Xiao Zhan's eyelashes flickered slightly, as if behind his eyelids he had imprisoned an entire world of unspoken words.
"Here, Laoban. Come to me. Let me see you." Yibo murmured, satisfied.
Xiao Zhan wedged his lower lip between his teeth and nodded slightly, then, being helped by Yibo, he walked around the desk one unsteady step at a time. Under his fingers, Yibo felt the wings of his pulse flapping wildly in the cage of flesh and veins. Xiao Zhan kept his eyes open, but his chin was tilted down, his expression pleasantly distant, lost in some kind of unreachable limbo. Even if Yibo would let him go, the thread of lewd photographs he'd taken would unite them; and if even those weren't enough, then love would have saved them both.
"Strip for me," Yibo urged him on, vibrating under his skin with barely restrained excitement. It might have been easier to move the strings of a puppet, but decidedly less satisfying than moving Xiao Zhan to his will.
Xiao Zhan held his gaze up in pride as he reached for his expensive pants and began to unbutton them. It was Prada, or perhaps another suit of an even more sophisticated and expensive brand—Yibo didn't know the difference. He didn't like brands unless they were on Xiao Zhan.
With the ghost of a caress, Xiao Zhan slid languidly down his lean thighs, down to the curve of flesh behind his knees. On the milky skin, just at the level of the mole on his inner thigh, he still bore a purple bruise that Yibo sucked into his thigh a few days ago, another silent memory which he had been forced to keep to himself like the most precious and depraved of treasures. Yibo held out a hand, absentmindedly tracing its shape with his thumb. Xiao Zhan stiffened at the touch, as if he were fighting himself not to jump off Yibo like a spring.
After the soft caresses, Yibo slapped him hard with an open palm. Xiao Zhan jumped,and perhaps he was beginning to learn, because to stop himself from screaming Xiao Zhan clenched his lower lip between his teeth. He knew what would happen if they were caught together, after all. The blame would fall on him either way. He was older, more mature, and running a successful company. Xiao Zhan had all the power, right?
"You're becoming so good." Yibo mumbled, rapt, not even bothering to hide his satisfaction. Holding out the small jar of lube to Xiao Zhan, Yibo pressed a light kiss on his thigh, where it was still warm from the strike. "Good and beautiful, Laoban. And all mine. Only mine."
"You can't go on like this much longer," Xiao Zhan hissed in response, dryly diving his trembling fingers into the jar. He was still wearing his dark briefs, which he only lowered when Yibo moved his head away from his body. "We have the meeting in less than half an hour. If I walk in there like this, I..."
Now freed from the cumbersome cage of clothes, his cock was finally on full display. It was tiny, with a reddened tip, not yet fully erect. His lower abdomen was still smooth from the last time Yibo had shaved it. Xiao Zhan carried a peculiar kind of innocence, which Yibo broke down as he let out a half-smug laugh. Xiao Zhan turned red with humiliation to the tips of his hair.
"You're right as always, Laoban. The plug is big and I'm not very patient. You should hurry."
Xiao Zhan snatched it from his hand with an irritated sigh. His eyes were still glossy with anger and humiliation as he barely parted his thighs. Under Yibo's lucid gaze. his index and middle fingers disappeared behind the delicious curve of his buttocks in a clumsy but inadvertently sensual attempt to prepare himself. Yibo continued to hold him tightly by the wrist of his other hand, paying attention to his every movement and drinking in his every expression.
While preparing himself, Xiao Zhan had the curious habit of closing his eyes tightly as children do. To Yibo, it seemed like he was almost ashamed of himself, ashamed of what he was discovering himself to be (of what you are forcing me to do, Wang Yibo!). Index and middle finger were swallowed by his hot walls with immense ease, they were too short to provide him with pleasurable, deep stimulation. Yibo moved his face away a little more to enjoy the obscene show that Xiao Zhan was setting up for him alone. Without blinking an eye, Yibo observed him with the thirst of an adult and the intrepid curiosity of a child.
Xiao Zhan continued to fuck himself with those useless, pretty fingers of his, in and out with more vigor, managing to get little more than a few frustrated sighs out of himself. Time to slip them out, one or two or all five, even, and he'd be back to as tight as the first time. Just like always.
Yibo swallowed loudly.
Xiao Zhan pushed in the third finger and with it came the first soft sigh. Drops of sweat wetted his peach lips and flushed his cheeks. He was so beautiful and delicate that Yibo wished he could keep him in a display case just like that, folded in on himself as he shaped simple masturbation into an act of selfish and submissive autoerotism. His eyes moistened with the first tears of humiliation, and between the thighs Xiao Zhan slowly began to harden.
Yibo found him simply beautiful.
In order to admire him better, Yibo closed the hand with which he held the thong under Xiao Zhan’s chin and forced him to hold his face up high. He kissed away the tears one by one, as affectionately as a long-time lover. Then he slid his touch a little lower with unusual sweetness. Over the barely visible Adam's apple. The Prada jacket first, followed by the white thighs that were his alone, then the small and delicate hand with which Xiao Zhan held the plug. His heart swollen with emotion, Yibo squeezed his hand, intertwining his fingers possessively with his own. Xiao Zhan's resistance lasted only the blink of an eye, before Yibo could press the sex toy between the voluptuous folds of his buttocks, where he was lazily fucking himself with his fingers.
"Yibo..." Xiao Zhan croaked when he felt the cold metal against his skin. What little control he still had was fading now like snow in the sun. His face was wet with sweat, his swan-like neck stretched into a delicate, sensual curve. Yibo fondly kissed away another tear. "If it comes to money, Yibo, you know that I..."
"Sssh. It's all right, Laoban. Zhan-ge . It will all be over soon, hmm? You just have to hold on a little longer."
Yibo felt his body against his own, stiff as a corpse. In an attempt to soften him up a little, Yibo gripped his wrist harder. Xiao Zhan cursed and then Yibo slowly guided his hand up to penetrate himself with the plug. It was so small in his hand that it disappeared between the bars of his tapered fingers. He heard Xiao Zhan let out a broken sigh as the plug violated his flesh. Breath after breath, together they pressed it in a little, then a little more, until it was impossible to tell which one of them was placing it, and only its base remained outside his body.
Yibo murmured words of comfort into his ear, caressing the ring of hypersensitive muscles, then the soft curves of his ass. With his eyelids lowered, Xiao Zhan continued to remain as rigid as a log. White and red played together on his skin, a dark and pleasant interweaving of depraved beauty. His legs trembled slightly from fear and arousal. Yibo pressed his index finger against the bottom of the plug to make sure it filled him deep, and Xiao Zhan let a broken sigh escape his lips. Then, just as quietly as he had entered the room, Yibo withdrew from his body while still holding his wrist.
Yibo went back to caressing the thong between his thumb and forefinger. He received pleasure from dressing Xiao Zhan himself, in whatever way he liked, under the layers of an outfit that Xiao Zhan chose specifically to impress others.
Xiao Zhan did not say a word.
If Yibo did not continue to hold him by the wrist, he would have slipped to the ground without a word. Perhaps Xiao Zhan had given up, perhaps—more likely—he had decided to conserve his energy to win another kind of battle. Xiao Zhan reopened his eyes only when he grabbed the lingerie from Yibo's outstretched hand, and it took him a few moments to understand which way it should be worn. He kept passing it from hand to hand, strokes of panic and confusion brushing his finely chiseled features.
Impatient after only a few moments, Yibo snatched it from his hand with an abrupt gesture and then bent down between his thighs to help him.
He did not touch Xiao Zhan except in passing, with his fingertips. Yibo felt him trembling underneath with veiled anticipation—and he fed on those shivers, yes, one by one like the egoist he didn't believe he was. There was a stagnant tension between them, occasionally interrupted by mutual breaths.
Yibo ran the lace along the soft line of Xiao Zhan’s thighs. Once he reached his erection, he found it half-hard. Yibo kissed the reddened, tiny tip before finally covering it with the scarlet lace once. The panties held it all in, allowing only a glimpse of pink flesh through the fine transparency.
Above him, Xiao Zhan had curled his toes, exposed in more ways than one. From the height of his own stature, Xiao Zhan seemed to be stoically convinced that he could fight off whatever uncomfortable thoughts were propping up in his head.
Yibo returned to his feet, then pressed his hot mouth against the cartilage of Xiao Zhan’s ear.
"Someday, you'll tell me you're mine, Laoban," he muttered in a vague whisper, as if any response didn’t matter to him at all. Unable to pull himself away from Xiao Zhan, Yibo went back to slip his broad hand between Xiao Zhan's tapered legs. With his fingertip, he mapped the delicious curve of Xiao Zhan’s fabric-covered erection, then followed the lascivious path of the thong's string, diving once more between his firm buttocks. He slapped hard at one, then the other. "You will tell me that you are mine, just as I am yours," he added, pressing the base of the plug to seal that silent promise.
Xiao Zhan winced, trying in vain to close his thighs. To not let out any screams, he was biting his lower lip hard and looking away, over his shoulder. His Adam's apple, tiny as well, barely vibrated beneath his olive skin. Yibo would have let him dress himself, if only so that he could see for himself how much better women's underwear looked on him than men's.
Unnerved by the silence, Yibo went back to grabbing him by the jaw. He imposed his touch, holding it vehemently in an attempt to leave traces of himself in Xiao Zhan’s face in a different way than simple hickeys.
With a possessive jerk, Yibo brought Xiao Zhan close to his face.
"Now get dressed, Laoban. Looking like this is obscene to say the least. Your favorite intern will bring you coffee, just the way you like it."
xxx
Yibo, of course, had not revealed to him that the plug would be connected to a remote control. Xiao Zhan hated surprises, and Wang Yibo made sure to give him as many as possible.
Because Xiao Zhan was so sensitive to them, very little effort was required.
In the blink of an eye, as a warning, when Yibo saw him stop talking he pressed the button with his finger, setting the intensity at the lowest level. Hidden in the shadows in the far corner of the room, he watched Xiao Zhan jerk imperceptibly in the chair he was occupying. Under the oblivious eyes of those present, protected by the table, he had closed his legs in a naïve and inexperienced attempt to keep his head. But it was Yibo (the intern) who had full and total control of his body, of everything that was essential in him precisely because it was invisible to the eyes.
Yibo harbored in his chest the exciting certainty that, in spite of all the reticence that Xiao Zhan perfunctorily assumed, the red panties were already wet with arousal. That's why Yibo smiled in the half-light, imagining himself quivering with anticipation, with his face sunk between Xiao Zhan’s firm, hot buttocks. No one had noticed the discomfort on Xiao Zhan's face; good as he was at dissimulating. Even when Yibo increased the speed of his vibrations, Xiao Zhan managed to maintain a facade of stoic indifference.
Still, that wasn't the important part.
As always, it was a matter of being able to grasp the small, more important details that Xiao Zhan let slip away, willingly or unwillingly. With every jolt or choked groan, Xiao Zhan followed the path that made him less and less his own master and more and more Yibo's property. Xiao Zhan was his to love, to possess, to dispose of as he pleased.
Of one thing, however, Yibo was certain. Wonderfully exhausted, short of breath, his forehead drenched in sweat and his mouth livid with nervous bites, when the meeting ended, it was certainly not out of simple courtesy that Xiao Zhan lingered in his chair.
Yibo stood in the dim half-light the whole time, until the very last customer had gone out the door after saying goodbye. Then, without a word, as if to prove a point with actions rather than words, he switched the remote control back to the highest intensity setting.This time Xiao Zhan let out a broken groan, without any shame. From his privileged position, Yibo saw him sinking his petite fingers into the folds of his pants, his long tapered thighs closing spasmodically around nothing. Under the table, the fine tailored pants were filthy with the fruit of the roughest orgasm he had ever had.
Yibo moved in his direction with one slow step, then another. He didn't need to get closer to see the tears silently streaming down his face—humiliating and humiliated daughters of the intertwining of fear and shame—but he did so anyway, just to kiss them away.Yibo wanted to own and taste Xiao Zhan on the tip of his tongue.
Between them, there was an almost grotesque silence, broken only by mutual breaths and the barely perceptible noise of the plug that continued to vibrate incessantly between Xiao Zhan's flesh. Yibo towered over him with his body, one hand anchored on the remote control and the other one possessively firm on the nape of his neck, to prevent him from slipping away like an eel. Not a single inch of skin was left unkissed.
Silence followed.
Then—
"I hope the coffee was to your liking, Laoban."