The glass door chimed as Jai pushed it open, a stark, artificial sound that cut through the thick, musky air. The shop was a sensory overload of neon pink and black, shelves crammed with devices in shapes he couldn’t begin to name. The whole place smelled of vinyl and cheap perfume. He’d come here on a compulsion, a need to physically step into the role Ansh had carved out for him. To maybe find a toy, something to… practice with. To stay ready.
He wandered the aisles, his face flushed, feeling like an imposter. His thumb absently stroked his phone screen, where Ansh’s last message was still burning a hole in his brain. You on birth control? He hadn’t replied yet. The question was a live wire, its implications terrifying and exhilarating.
“Looking for something specific, or just browsing?”
The voice was smooth, a low baritone that resonated in the quiet store. Jai spun around. A man leaned against a shelf of leather harnesses, his arms crossed over a broad chest. He was older than Ansh, with flecks of gray in his dark hair and a weathered handsomeness that spoke of experience. His eyes, a sharp, intelligent gray, scanned Jai with an unnerving directness, lingering on the faint, yellowing bruises just visible below the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“Uh, just browsing,” Jai mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
The man pushed off the shelf and took a step closer. He didn’t smile. His gaze was assessing, knowing. “Those are some interesting marks. Someone’s been playing rough.”
Jai’s throat went dry. He should walk away. This was weird.
“It’s none of my business,” the man continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “But the way you’re holding yourself… you’re sore. Not just in the muscles. Deeper.” He took another step, now well within Jai’s personal space. The scent of sandalwood and clean sweat cut through the store’s cloying aroma. “You’re walking like a guy who got used hard and is already thinking about the next time.”
Jai’s heart hammered against his ribs. How could he know? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do,” the stranger said, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. “I know the look. It’s the look of a man who just discovered he loves being owned. It’s a powerful thing to admit to yourself.”
He reached past Jai, his forearm brushing against Jai’s chest. He plucked a small, discreet box from the shelf. It contained a simple, gleaming steel plug. “You’re not here for a vibrator. You’re here for something to keep the feeling. For when he’s not around to keep you full himself.”
Jai couldn’t breathe. This stranger was voicing the secret, shameful thoughts he’d been too afraid to fully form. He was laying Jai bare right here under the fluorescent lights.
“Who are you?” Jai whispered.
“A guy who’s been on both sides of the leash,” he said, his gray eyes holding Jai’s. “The guy who just got out of a five-year dynamic. I know what it looks like when someone finds their place. It’s written all over you. The confusion. The hunger. The need to be put back on your knees.”
He tapped the box. “This isn’t what you need. Not yet.” He moved down the aisle, and Jai, hypnotized, followed. The man stopped at a section devoted to oils and lubes. He selected a small, dark glass bottle. “This. Almond oil. Warm it in your hands. It’s for after. For when he’s finished. When you’re sore and open and feeling empty.” He pressed the cool bottle into Jai’s hand. “You massage it into the skin. Then you work it inside, just a little. It soothes. It helps you heal. It keeps you ready for him.”
Jai stared at the bottle, his mind reeling. The practicality of it, the profound intimacy it implied, was overwhelming.
“He’s got a breeding kink, doesn’t he?” the stranger asked, his voice barely a breath.
Jai’s head snapped up. He gave a tiny, jerky nod.
A dark, understanding flickered in the man’s eyes. “Then you need to be smart. You need to know your body. You need to understand the stakes of what you’re playing with. It’s not just a dirty word. It’s biology. It’s the potential for a life. The biggest fucking consequence there is.” He leaned in closer, and Jai could feel the heat radiating from him. “The biggest submission isn’t just taking his cock. It’s accepting that risk. Letting him plant that seed inside you and not knowing if it will take. That’s the ultimate surrender. That’s what he really wants. To own that possibility.”
Jai’s knees felt weak. He braced a hand against a shelf. The man’s words weren’t just titillating; they were a bucket of cold, shocking reality. He was right. Ansh’s question, his filthy promises… they weren’t just talk. They were about this.
“Why are you telling me this?” Jai breathed.
“Because someone once did the same for me,” he said. His hand came up, and he didn’t touch Jai’s face, but his knuckle gently brushed the pulse hammering in Jai’s neck. It was a shockingly intimate gesture from a stranger. “You have that look. The look of a man standing at the edge of a cliff, terrified and so fucking turned on he can’t think straight. It’s a beautiful thing to see.”
He dropped his hand and took a step back, breaking the intense connection. “Buy the oil. Go home. Think about what I said. And when that dominant bastard of yours messages you again, you’ll know exactly what you’re agreeing to.”
He turned to leave, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “And for god’s sake, answer his question. That kind of man doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Jai stood frozen, the cool glass bottle clutched in his sweaty palm, as the man disappeared around the end of the aisle. The door chimed again, signaling his exit. The store felt suddenly enormous and silent. He looked down at the oil, his mind buzzing.
He bought it without another word to the cashier, his face burning. Back out on the sidewalk, the afternoon sun felt intrusive. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the Instagram DM screen. His heart was a wild drum in his chest. He typed out a reply, his fingers trembling.
No. I’m not.
He hit send before he could lose his nerve. The three dots appeared almost instantly. Jai’s breath caught. The response was swift and brutal.
Good. I like my risks real. Now get home. I want you to take pictures. I want to see the oil I know you just bought slicked all over that ass. I want to see you working it into that sore, used hole you’re trying to keep ready for me. I want to see how deep you can push your fingers, thinking about my cock.
The cool glass of the almond oil bottle felt heavy in Jai’s hand, a tangible anchor to the surreal turn his life had taken. His apartment was silent, the only sound the frantic thumping of his own heart. He read Ansh’s message again, each word a command that tightened a coil deep in his gut.
No. I’m not.
He’d sent it. There was no taking it back. The biological stakes the stranger had mentioned were now palpably real, a terrifying, electric current buzzing under his skin.
His phone buzzed again, a fresh vibration that made him jump.
Well? I’m waiting. Don’t make me ask twice.
Jai’s hands trembled as he fumbled with the bottle, the dark glass slick with his own nervous sweat. He uncorked it, and the rich, nutty scent of almond oil filled the air. He poured a generous amount into his palm, the liquid cool against his heated skin. He rubbed his hands together, warming it.
He positioned his phone against a stack of books on the nightstand, angling it to capture the bed. He tapped record, his own reflection in the screen a blur of anticipation.
“Okay,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice shaky. “Okay, Ansh.”
He started with his chest, smoothing the oil over his pecs, watching his muscles gleam under the low light. He dragged his slick palms down the rigid planes of his abdomen, his skin tingling everywhere he touched. He was already half-hard, his cock twitching against his thigh with a mind of its own. He turned, presenting his ass to the camera, and poured more oil directly onto the curve of his left cheek. It traced a warm, slick path down his skin. He massaged it in, his fingers kneading the muscle there, fingers brushing against the still-sensitive bruise Ansh had left on his hip.
“Thinking about your hands here,” he murmured, the words feeling both absurd and intensely arousing. “Thinking about how you held me down.”
His fingers trailed lower, through the cleft of his ass. He gasped as his middle finger found his hole, circling the tight, furled muscle. It was still tender, a faint echo of the stretching and filling it had endured just hours before. He pressed the tip of his finger against it, applying a gentle, insistent pressure.
“It’s still so sensitive, Ansh,” he breathed, his eyes closing as he focused on the sensation. “I can still feel you. I feel so fucking empty without you.”
He pushed, and the tip of his finger slipped inside. A sharp, sweet burn made him hiss. He worked it slowly, in and out, the oil making the glide effortless. The camera was forgotten; now he was just talking to the phantom presence of Ansh, the man who owned this part of him.
“I’m using the oil,” he moaned, adding a second finger. The stretch was more pronounced, a delicious ache that made his cock leak onto his stomach. “It feels so good. So slick. It’s all I can smell. I’m imagining it’s your hand, Ansh. I’m imagining you’re here, prepping me for your fucking cock.”
He scissored his fingers, stretching himself open for an audience of one. The obscene, wet sounds filled the quiet room. He was lost in it now, his head falling back, his breath coming in ragged pants.
“I want you to see how open I can get for you,” he grunted, his voice thick with need. He pushed a third finger in, and his whole body shuddered at the deep, filling stretch. “Fuck, yes… see? I can take three. I’m thinking about your cock. I’m imagining it’s you fucking into me right now. I’m trying to get myself ready for you. I want to be your good… your good little…”
He couldn’t say the word, the degradation was still too new, too potent. But his body screamed it. He fucked himself with his own fingers, driving them in as deep as they would go, chasing the ghost of the pleasure Ansh had given him.
“I want you to breed me,” he panted, the words tumbling out in a desperate, broken stream. “I want to feel you come inside me again. I want to be so full of you I can’t think about anything else. Fuck, Ansh, I need it…”
With a final, guttural moan, he pulled his slick fingers free. He stopped the recording, his entire body trembling. He didn’t watch it back. He just attached the video file, typed For you, and hit send.
He collapsed back onto the bed, his oil-slick hand coming to rest on his heaving chest. He was a mess of need and apprehension. The phone was silent for a full minute. Then, it vibrated, not with a message, but with an incoming video call request.
Jai’s heart leaped into his throat. He scrambled to sit up, wiping his hand on the sheets, and accepted the call.
Ansh’s face filled the screen. He was shirtless, leaning against what looked like a sleek, modern headboard. The low light carved shadows into the incredible definition of his chest and abs. His expression was dark, intense, his gaze pinning Jai through the screen.
“That was a good start, Jai,” Ansh said, his voice a low, smooth rumble that vibrated right through Jai. “A very good start. You looked so pretty working yourself open for me. But you stopped too soon.”
As he spoke, the camera angle shifted. He was holding the phone in one hand. His other hand… his other hand was wrapped around his cock. It was already fully hard, thick and veined, lying against his stomach. Jai’s mouth went dry.
“You got yourself all worked up, thinking about my cock, and then you just stopped?” Ansh’s hand began to move, a slow, torturous stroke from root to tip. “That’s not how this works. When I tell you to get ready for me, you don’t stop until I say you’re done.”
“Ansh…” Jai breathed, his own hand drifting back down to his aching cock.
“Don’t fucking touch yourself yet,” Ansh commanded, his eyes flashing. “You look. You watch what you do to me. You see this?” He angled the camera down, giving Jai a perfect, devastating view of his fist gliding over his hard length. “This is because of you. This is for that tight, oily hole you just showed me. I’m so fucking hard thinking about sinking into that.”
Jai could only watch, mesmerized, as Ansh stroked himself. The pre-cum beading at his tip gleamed in the light.
“now, you’re going to do it again,” Ansh said, his voice hitching slightly as his thumb swiped over the head of his cock. “You’re going to get back on your knees for the camera. And this time, you’re not going to stop at three fingers. You’re going to fuck yourself with them. You’re going to imagine it’s my cock stretching you open, breeding that eager hole. You’re going to do it until you’re begging me to let you come. And you’re going to record the whole thing for me. Do you understand?”
Ansh’s rhythm on his own cock never faltered, a steady, hypnotic promise of what was to come.
