Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Victor

S imon was amazing. And Artemis's words had struck me deeper than I wanted to admit. Because Artemis was right. Simon played like he was a real slave. He had fallen so deep into his fantasy role that I was certain he didn't think it was a fantasy at all anymore.

It was unbelievably good. The deeper Simon sunk into his role, the more fully I came into mine. Which was why I'd fucked him over my desk right after Artemis left while ordering Simon to pretend I was Artemis and that I'd shared him.

Not that I would ever share Simon in a million years. He was far too precious for me to do that. I didn't want to let another alpha touch him. Usually, I let Artemis pet my play partners, and they usually liked it, too. But not Simon.

Hell no.

It would have been the most beautiful fantasy I'd ever played out, if I didn't have the specter of Uncle Vincent and whatever he was up to hanging over my head. I'd fucked Simon after Artemis left because I wanted to get back into the headspace for our fantasy, but once I'd cooled off and cleaned up, I accepted with a wince that I would have to deal with what was quickly shaping up to be a hostile effort on my uncle's part to either get me out of the company or get me to heel.

I left Simon where he was as I circled back around to sit at my desk once more. I pretended not to notice the upset look on Simon's face as he lay with his cheek in a splash of his own cum from earlier and his chest and belly in the puddle of slick. It was obvious to me that Simon was suffering through some dark emotions, and I definitely intended to help him through as soon as I could, but Uncle Vincent's shenanigans affected more people than just me.

The email Artemis had mentioned hadn't been sent to me, but I had ways of getting into pretty much everything having to do with Victory Holdings. All it took was a few clicks to access the account I'd set up to monitor everyone in the company's email, then to find the email in question.

"Shit," I muttered, then sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. My uncle was definitely about to try to screw me over somehow.

Simon flinched slightly at my curse, and when I glanced to him again, the strain in his expression had changed to curiosity. More than that had changed. It was like he'd popped out of the scene for a moment, mentally, at least, and was interested in what was going on.

I wasn't sure I wanted to bother him with my family and business troubles. It also dawned on me that I had no idea who Simon was in his real life or what kind of work he did. Maybe he worked in finance and knew something about accounting or business structure.

I blew out a breath and shook my head, then clicked to power down my computer. It was after five o'clock. Nothing more would happen at Victory Holdings today. I was supposed to be on vacation, indulging in a master/slave fantasy. Simon had gone through a lot of trouble to be here, and it was his first time. Work could wait.

"I think that's enough for one day," I said, pushing my chair back, standing, and putting on my suit jacket.

"M-master?" Simon asked tremulously, proving that he was paying attention to me.

It dawned on me as I walked around my desk that he might have thought I meant to shut down the fantasy with those words.

"Work," I said, grasping him by his wrist restraints and pulling him to stand. "That's enough work for one day."

Simon breathed out a sigh of relief and was slow to find his balance once he was standing. I stood right behind him and pulled him so that his bound arms and his back rested against my chest. I even slipped one arm around him, though it mussed the arm of my suit jacket when I did.

"Look at that mess you made, boy," I told him as we both looked at the vast sticky spot on my desktop. "I should get you to lick that clean."

I felt Simon swallow hard as much as I saw his Adam's apple bob. "Yes, Master," he said shakily.

I shook my head. "Not today. It would take too long, and I have other things in mind for you."

And I had an incredibly discreet cleaning service who would come in and clean up as soon as I texted them.

I wheeled Simon around, detaching his wrist restraints only to fasten them in front of him again. I fetched the lead from where I'd set it aside earlier, then hooked it to the ring in his collar and led him back through the empty office to the elevator.

I couldn't tell if he'd figured out that the office was all staged. He was certainly clever enough to grasp that. I still sensed anxiety in him as I pulled him through the rows of empty cubicles, but that might have been because he was an even bigger mess than he'd been when we'd come down earlier.

The fact that he was so filthy helped me to make up my mind about what I would do with him when we reached my apartment.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I tugged Simon forward, veering towards my bedroom instead of to the kitchen and dining room area, despite being hungry.

"You're a filthy mess," I told him as I walked him through my bedroom and on to the en suite. "You need cleaning up before you're presentable for supper."

"Yes, Master," Simon said, a forlorn note in his voice.

He was back in his servile role, which felt good, though I couldn't put my finger on why. It was more than the obvious. Even though I sensed there was a lot to Simon and that he was most likely good at whatever he did, being a slave seemed to suit him better. I really couldn't explain it, just that the more he committed to being a slave, the calmer the vibes I got from him were.

"I could use a shower, too," I said, pulling him to a stop on the soft bath mat in front of my extra-large walk-in shower. I unhooked the leash and tossed that aside, then unclasped his wrist restraints. "Undress me."

Simon sucked in a breath, and his eyes took on a light that made me smile. He rushed to undo the button of my suit jacket, sneakily stroking the fabric for a moment, like he gained pleasure from my suit alone.

Actually, the way he worked to undress me and the reverence he showed for my clothing made me think that maybe he did have something for suits in and of themselves.

"Do you like an alpha in a suit?" I asked, my mouth quirking up into a grin on one side.

"Yes, Master," he said as though moaning with pleasure. He dared to peek up at me for a moment, then added, "I…I really like them."

I hummed, smiling even more as I caught on to his fetish. As he continued to undress me, I said, "Maybe I'll have to wrap you up in my suit jacket next time I fuck you."

His hands faltered on the buttons of my shirt. Oh, he definitely liked that idea.

"Whatever pleases you, Master," he said, eyes shining, cheeks pink, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his cum-crusted lips.

My cock twitched over how dead sexy Simon was as a happy sub, aching to please me.

It withered again a moment later when Simon's contented smile melted off, replaced by a strained, guilty look.

"What is it?" I asked, hooking my fingers under his chin and forcing him to look up at me. "Why did you stop smiling?"

I felt a deep, internal tug of something when his eyes met mine, like a doorway right into Simon's soul had opened and closed in the blink of an eye. But in that fraction of a moment, I'd been able to sense Simon's longing and his shame, his needs and his self-revulsion.

I sighed and cupped the side of Simon's messy face, rubbing my thumb over his lips. His humid breath danced across the pad of my thumb as he panted, but he didn't make a move to either suck my thumb in or push me away. My heart squeezed and pulsed in ways that should have disturbed me, the emotion was strong and had come over me so quickly, but instead, I just let the feeling sit there.

Simon wouldn't have been the first playmate racked by feelings of self-loathing that I'd played with. A lot of omegas masochists, a lot of masochists in general, were repulsed by the things they liked. And I got it. I definitely did. There were times when I wasn't proud of my sadistic streak and the things I'd done or wanted to do to omegas in the past.

It was more than that. I knew what it felt like to loathe a part of yourself. I'd done things, personally and professionally, that I didn't like. I'd changed from the man I once was, but the hunger for cruelty was still in me.

Paradoxically, Simon's sweetness and innocence brought it out in a way I hadn't felt in years.

I shifted my hand so that I gripped the top of his throat above his collar and squeezed. Simon's eyes went wide for a moment, and his mouth opened, though he couldn't take a breath.

"You're mine," I told him fiercely, "and you are exactly the way I want you."

I slammed my mouth over his, tasting musk and heat as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, but also breathing in his flowery-sweet scent. It was a heady combination, and the way his body flinched as his air started to run out, the way he grasped the sides of my unbuttoned shirt and held on, seemed to set the world on the right axis again.

We both gasped for breath when I let him go. Simon's eyes were huge, and despite the fear that rippled from him, his cock had gone hard.

I thanked every god I could think of that I was Simon's first fantasy partner. Some of the friends I'd once had who loved this same brand of fantasy would have eaten him alive and probably scarred him for life, he was such a masochist.

"Now," I panted, vowing to myself that I would give Simon everything he needed while fiercely protecting his innocent heart, "finish undressing me and wash me."

"Yes, Master," he croaked, rushing to undo the rest of my buttons.

I praised him and caressed him as much as I could as he peeled me out of my clothes, then as I led him into the shower and turned on the water to warm.

I'd had the shower custom-designed for playtimes. Not only did it have several showerheads and jets that shot out from the walls at various levels, it came complete with tools for cleaning out. Not that omegas necessarily needed internal cleansing. Their bodies were designed to be fucked with as little fuss as possible. I'd played with a few betas, though, and they generally did need to be cleansed.

When it came to washing in this particular case, I actually took the active role.

"Stand here and grip those rings above you," I ordered Simon, positioning him in the middle of the shower and pointing up to two of several rings fastened to the ceiling.

"Yes, Master." He moved to obey quickly, grasping the rings, then spreading his legs as I kicked them apart so that he stood spreadeagle in the middle of the shower, barely balanced.

I adjusted a few of the showerheads so that a gentle spray shot down on him from both sides, wetting him enough for me to grab the soap and a sponge to clean him off.

Within seconds, Simon's body relaxed into a state that radiated bliss as I soaped his filthy body up and scrubbed him down. He closed his eyes so that I could wash his face, then kept them closed with a look of pure pleasure as I washed the rest of him.

I smiled, something warm and excited growing within me as I cared for my omega slave. I loved every second of it, too, from the tender way I caressed his used body with my hands and the sponge to the sight of him trying to hide a smile. Simon really was special, and the possessiveness within me was all-consuming.

"Move closer to the wall," I ordered him once he was completely clean. "You're going to wait here while I wash myself."

"Yes, Master," Simon said, as docile as could be.

I'd changed my mind about having him wash me, because I sensed he needed something more than that. I guided him to within about six inches of the shower wall, then I repositioned a certain gadget I'd had made, a water jet that could be moved up and down to just the right height. Once Simon was perfectly positioned, I turned the jet on full blast, directing it hard against his half-hard cock and balls.

Simon let out a yelp, his eyes suddenly opening as the unexpected jet of pain hit him. He glanced down for a split second as the high pressure of the water beat mercilessly against him. He continued to pant with discomfort as I turned to step into the gentler spray for a quick scrub.

I'd gotten the idea for the adjustable water jet after accidentally taking a hit straight to my junk with a pressure-washer when helping a friend prep his house for repainting in college. A little bit of water play with a mild jet was awesome. Full-on pressure was like having your cock and balls constantly beaten with a stick.

Simon panted and groaned a little, his face pinched with pain, but he didn't move, just letting the jet punish him. I was impressed that he would hold himself there and let the pain wash over him. At least half of the omegas I'd played with in the past safeworded at the jet.

I took my time washing, partly because I wanted to see how long Simon would endure it, partly because I was definitely getting off on watching him fight through the pain, and partially because I knew he wanted it. We couldn't stay in the shower forever, though.

I turned off all the water in the shower, and as soon as the jet went off, Simon made a sound and sagged a little, hanging from the rings, but not attempting to close his legs or nurse his balls, like most of the other omegas who endured the jet did. Again, I was impressed.

"Time to dry off and get supper," I said cheerily, scooping an arm around Simon's waist and pulling him with me out of the shower.

Simon was a little stunned by the whole thing. His face was contorted, and I had that sixth sense that he was struggling internally again. That only made the urge to take care of him, to take care of him the way we both needed, stronger than ever.

"Good boy," I said as I moved him to a spot on the bath mat, then reached for a towel to dry myself. "I know it hurts, but you need it to remind you of your place."

To my shock, Simon sobbed at those words, lowering his head. "Yes, Master," he moaned, almost weeping.

Alarm bells sounded in my head. Fantasies like this were fun and even necessary for some people. I might have hated myself for the things I did to omegas in the past, but everything felt different with Simon. I genuinely believed in my core that he needed everything we were doing.

But that feeling that something wasn't right was loud.

"You're so beautiful like this," I said once I finished drying myself and grabbed another towel to dry him. "You're so strong and perfect. You make me as horny as if you were in heat."

Instead of making Simon feel better, he cried harder and glanced up at me with a pleading look.

"There, there, boy. I've got you," I said, scrambling desperately to figure out what he needed and how I could give it to him.

Once we were dry, I led him into my bedroom, pointed for him to kneel in a spot on the carpet, then went to the wardrobe to search for robes for both of us. Maybe being covered up for a bit would help settle Simon's mind.

That was the plan, but as soon as I walked back into the bedroom, my phone, which I'd left on the bed, started to ring. And not just any ring, either. It rang with Vivien's ringtone.

"Shit," I hissed, tossing the spare robe onto the bed, then rushing over to grab the phone.

Sure enough, it was Vivien.

I glanced to Simon, who shivered as he knelt, need and desperation rippling from him, then back to my phone.

I had to take the call. I hated doing it when Simon was in such a vulnerable place, but I had to.

"Hey, Viv," I answered, striding across to the bureau against the wall and opening it, looking for something that might calm Simon.

"Victor, what the hell is going on?" Vivien snapped immediately, sounding pissed.

"Could you be a little more specific?"

The first thing that I touched in the drawer was a dildo with an expanding knot. I didn't have time to think about my decision. I grabbed it and walked over to where Simon knelt at the end of the bed.

"Dad has been sending me horrible emails about you all week," Vivien went on as I gestured for Simon to move to all-fours. "And I just got off a call with him."

"You just spoke to Uncle Victor?" I asked, my eyes going wide. "As in an actual phone call?"

"Yes," Vivien said. "And you know how I hate phone calls."

"You're talking to me right now," I said, moving behind Simon and positioning the tip of the dildo at Simon's dripping hole.

As I pushed it in slowly, Simon's breathless crying stopped, and his plaintive sobs turned into a low moan as the dildo stretched him.

"What was that sound?" Viven demanded. "Are you bouncing some omega on your balls as you talk to me?"

"No," I said definitively. She didn't need to know anything beyond that.

Once the dildo was all the way in, I pushed the button on the back to inflate the false knot. Simon's breathing turned into quick pleasured pants as the knot filled him. I was banking on an omega's natural instinct to feel soothed and whole with an alpha knot in their ass to calm Simon until I could give him my full attention again.

"Regardless," Vivien said, "why is my father trying to get me to vote with him to kick you out of Victory Holdings?"

I nearly collapsed onto the foot of the bed, my mouth dropping at her words.

"So it's true," I said, speaking my thoughts aloud.

"What's true?" Vivien asked, zero patience in her voice.

I gestured for Simon to shift so that he was facing me. I just wanted to monitor his expression as I dealt with Vivien, since he was clearly still distressed. I did not expect for him to crawl forward, keeping his stuffed ass in the air, and to slurp my cock into his mouth. He held it there the same way he had when he'd been under my desk earlier.

The contradictory feelings of having my cock held by the most subservient omega I'd ever know, one who now had a false knot dildo crammed in his hole, thanks to me, while arguing with my cousin on the phone because her father was about to attempt to destroy me was almost too much.

"Uncle Vincent is trying to get rid of me," I said, breathless enough from the pleasure of Simon's sucking mouth that Vivien would probably know I wasn't alone. "Did you notice he drained the discretionary account?"

There was a long pause from Vivien that only highlighted the increasingly desperate sounds Simon was making before she said, "No, I hadn't noticed. That's my money, too. Is he trying to cut both of us off? I knew he'd want the whole thing for himself eventually. He told me to stop spending so much and to get back to work. Can you imagine?" She snorted.

"You might need to come back long enough to figure out what's going on," I said, reaching out to stroke Simon's head.

To my dismay, the gentle stroking only made Simon start to cry.

"I knew he would do this," Vivien said angrily. I could hear heels clicking on a hard floor from her end too. "Dad has always loved power. Ever since you grew a conscience last year, you're getting in the way of that lust. That's why he wants you out."

"That's why I can't be out," I said, anxious to end the call and focus on Simon, who was starting to slip. "I won't let Uncle Vincent turn Victory Holdings into the evil empire. I won't let him kidnap another innocent omega ever again."

Simon gasped, then choked on my cock.

"You're really having a hard time getting over that, aren't you," Vivien said.

"Yes," I snapped.

It should have upset her more, too.

"I have to go," I said curtly. "I've got a situation here. But you need to get your ass back to Barrington as quickly as possible so we can deal with Uncle Vincent and whatever he has planned together."

"We'll see," Vivien said, then ended the call.

I huffed in frustration. It was not the answer I wanted from her.

But I had bigger things on my mind just then. I tossed my phone aside and cupped Simon's face, pulling him off my cock just as he burst into very real sobbing that cut straight to my soul.