Office Confrontations Ch. 02

"Come on, big boy." Kyle wrapped an arm under Marshall's underarm and lifted him, pressing the stop button as he did so. The elevator creaked into motion and the dreaded sound of the alarm finally ceased, something Marshall hadn't noticed until the silent elevator echoed around him. They reached the first floor of the garage and Kyle led him toward the far side of the dank cement room, digging his hand into the pocket of his suit to pull out car keys. His other hand firmly wrapped around his waist and tucked into the top of Marshall's pants, tracing circles above his groin in lazy movements. The sensation wasn't nearly enough to drive Marshall over the edge, but that didn't stop him from pressing closer into Kyle's arms as he walked.

They reached a dusky green jeep and Kyle unlocked the passenger door, tucking Marshall into the seat and buckling him up. Marshall was completely dazed, and soon Kyle was in the front seat, pulling out of the parking lot. As Marshall started to come to, he felt Kyle's hand moving again, pulling him from the tight confines of his slacks and into the open air. He gasped at the sensation, and Kyle's thumb rubbing over his slit. His eyes fluttered and he reached down to finish what Kyle started. His hands were smacked away instantly, and the sensations on his dickhead stopped.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so." The commanding tone in Kyle's voice caught Marshall off guard, and he dropped his hands to his side. "Good boy." The tone wasn't patronizing, but it wasn't exactly warm either. It was a cross between sultry and pleased. If Marshall had been in his right mind he would have questioned the tone. However, with Kyle's hand wrapping around his shaft and lightly stroking him, the curious words and tone were completely ignored.

The trip could have been twenty hours or twenty minutes long, Marshall had no idea. His focus was held solely by Kyle's ministrations. He didn't even notice when they pulled up to a cozy little house with light red window frames and a wraparound porch. The metal gate hung open invitingly, and Marshall imagined the house to be more welcoming than simple wood and plaster would normally exude. Kyle's hand disappeared and he hopped out. Marshall looked around slowly, trying to figure out where he was.

"You coming?" Kyle smiled confidently, eyes gleaming, as he opened the door and pulled Marshall out. With a firm hand around his waist and a quick tuck of Marshall's weeping member back into his pants, they were off, traipsing up the porch stairs and pausing at the front door.

"Don't mind the mess." Kyle muttered nonchalantly. The door opened to a dim, immaculate front room. A plasma TV had been hung on the wall opposite them, and an open kitchen lay adjacent to the room, practically sparkling even in the dark lighting. Marshall was led through the living room and to the right, where a short hallway ended in three doors. Two of them were closed, and the remaining door opened into a very well constructed bathroom. Kyle pulled them to the left, across from the restroom, and opened the door.

Even distracted by the molten meat in between his legs, Marshall gaped. The room was enormous, and shoved up against the wall was a four-poster of wrought iron, centered around a queen sized mattress. with a forest green canopy above, the material whisper thin and flaring in the breeze of the air conditioner. A matched set of dark cherry oak nightstands and a dresser were decked out in a number of trinkets. But Marshall's eyes drifted back to the enormous bed. He gulped and started backing away, pulling from Kyle's grasp.

Kyle turned and smiled at him, though in the darkness it was hard to tell if Kyle was smiling warmly or wickedly, and the confusing expression did no more than terrify Marshall to a higher degree. Kyle's hand reached out and found Marshall's wrist. The grip wasn't tight, though it didn't yield when Marshall pulled against the restraint.

"Relax. I won't do anything you aren't panting for." The statement didn't reassure Marshall in the slightest. Kyle stepped closer, wrapping his other hand around Marshall's neck. It took a second for Marshall to realize the slightly warm, wet feeling on the back of his neck was caused by his own juices. He shuddered and Kyle kissed his neck, slowly tracing his jaw from the base of his ear to his chin before finding Marshall's parted lips.

Of their own accord, Marshall's lips spread wider to accept Kyle's stabbing tongue, and they writhed together, wresting control from one another with every gasp of breath. Kyle's hands found Marshall's pants and this time he pushed them down Marshall's slim hips, pulling him forward so he stepped out of them, along with his shoes (though he had to bend down to help with those). He tossed the jacket to the floor and seductively unbuttoned the pale blue button up, leaving a kiss on every inch of exposed flesh between buttons. When the shirt finally fell and Marshall stood only in his boxers, Kyle hooked his thumbs into the legs of the cotton material and pulled them down, laving his tongue across the carefully trimmed pubic hair above Marshall's hard seven-inch erection.

Kyle lightly squeezed each ball, massaging them as he kissed Marshall's hipbones. Kyle guided him back onto the bed, laying a hand on each of his thighs until Marshall obeyed and sat down. He then lifted Marshall's legs onto the bed, where they spread out of their own accord, and Kyle knelt between them, running his thumbs up Kyle's inner thighs slowly. He licked Marshall's abdomen, where faint muscles peeked through taut skin.

Marshall's need grew and he reached down again, grabbing his cock and tugging.

"What did I say about touching yourself?" Kyle asked, though he sounded more amused than angry, if Marshall cared to listen. He firmly plucked Marshall's hands from his leaking member and lifted them above his head.

Kyle straddled Marshall's hips, carefully avoiding friction, and leaned until he could kiss Marshall's inviting lips.

"I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands." He decided, mouthing the words against Marshall's lips. Something cold clamped down on Marshall's left wrist, and his eyes widened, as he was pulled straight and the cold clamped onto his right wrist. He resisted, realizing with horror that he couldn't tear his hands away no matter how much he struggled. He looked up, and there they were, glinting in the dim bedroom lighting. Metal cuffs, and not the cheap adult store cuffs either. They looked industrial, like the ones cops used. He blanched, and his cock wilted slightly.

"Wha--" Marshall moaned and bucked, fighting the cuffs more from ecstasy than fear. Kyle's hands squeezed Marshall's dick in a twisting motion as he kissed Marshall's chest, biting at one of the hardened nubs. Marshall cried out again, whipping his head back and forth, and Kyle took this as acquiescence, because he licked and nibbled with fervor, using both hands. Marshall's cock dripped more precum onto Kyle's hands as they flicked over the head, thumb probing the underside of his prick, just beneath the spongy head.

Marshall panted, gasping in short breaths. A whine gurgled out of him at every exhale, and he thrust faster into Kyle's skilled hands. His mouth opened in a silent cry as he thrust hard, back arched and every muscle tensed mid-motion. His eyes rolled back and he dropped his head, arms thrashing as he exploded, coating his stomach and chest with thick spurts of cum. He bucked three more times into Kyle's hand, relishing the way Kyle milked him for every drop before letting him go.

Marshall breathed heavily, cuffed hands clinking against the wrought iron headboard as his orgasm faded and he stopped struggling. A light sheen of sweat coated his body, mixing with the viscous cum and glistening in the dim lighting. Kyle, still sitting between Marshall's spread thighs, chuckled and patted Marshall's leg.

"See? I knew you'd enjoy it." Kyle sat back on his haunches and looked down. "Just wait, soon you'll beg me on your knees for more." Kyle laughed lightly and stretched. Marshall scoffed. Now that his needs had been sated, he pushed away how much he'd actually enjoyed their time together. His irrational logic started piecing together a bullshit lie, trying to cover up the desire building beneath his sternum, desire for Kyle's lips to wrap around his dick and bring him to full attention once again. He tried in vain to ignore his cock already trying to stiffen, though it had a long way to go.

Stockholm's syndrome, or something. That has to be it. I didn't want him to touch me, I just...Marshall clenched his jaw. He refused to believe he wanted any of it, regardless of how his body responded. He was straight. Not. Gay.

Looking up at Kyle, with his toned arms, vibrant tattoos glinting where his sleeves had been tucked up, and that hunger in his eyes, Marshall wasn't sure how he'd continue convincing himself. Just from looking at Kyle he could feel more stirrings in his loins, as if he hadn't just shot his load all over his chest.

"I did not enjoy that. You forced yourself on me!" He contradicted, even if he couldn't fully believe the lie. Kyle rolled his eyes and pointed down.

"Oh really? So why am I still fully clothed?" He retorted. Marshall gulped when he looked down. Sure, Kyle wore his black slacks, but he could clearly see the erection fighting against the dark fabric. "That was all you." He grinned and rubbed his hands all over Marshall's sticky chest, tweaking a nipple. Marshall grunted and forced himself to bite down on any more pleasure-related sounds.

"Why?" Marshall demanded, fighting himself. Kyle stopped, eyes searching Marshall's dark blue irises. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth lost all its arrogance.

"Why what? Why did I get you off?" He asked, pulling on Marshall's nipple again. Marshall flinched and pulled, unable to get out of Kyle's grasp. "You seemed to enjoy it." Kyle grinned.

"Why me? Why now?" His mouth opened, and questions kept flowing. He couldn't stop them if someone duct-taped his lips together and crushed his esophagus. "Why the hell did you have to fuck up my perfectly fulfilling life? I was fine before you! I didn't want any of this, I didn't ask for you to turn everything upside down, and I sure as hell didn't tell you to make me―make me--" He huffed, unable to finish the statement. He couldn't stand the idea of admitting to himself he was gay, much less someone like Kyle.

Kyle himself stared down at Marshall, face screwed up in thought. It was rare to see anything but a nervous twitch or an arrogant sneer on Kyle's face, so Marshall enjoyed the look of bewilderment. Unfortunately it disappeared quickly as Kyle scooted out from between his legs. Kyle shrugged, rolling onto his side, and pressed his cheek against his arm as he surveyed Marshall in his vulnerable position, eyes raking up and down his naked form. His glasses had dipped down his face, but Kyle had yet to fix them. Marshall couldn't stop himself from staring at the way they magnified his eyes, made their gaze look sharper and more deadly than they should have been.

"There was just something about you that called to me." Kyle traced lines down Marshall's chest, causing Marshall to shiver. Kyle grinned. "That. That's what I saw in you. You act like this couldn't-be-bothered-with-anyone asshole with a disregard for everyone around you, but underneath it all you're a cumslut begging for someone to bend you over and take you hard." Marshall frowned and opened his mouth to protest. Instantly, a moan emanated from his lips, and he bucked. Kyle squeezed his rapidly rising erection again and that be-damned smug look stretched sanctimoniously across Kyle's face.

"It's true and you know it." Marshall glared. Kyle leaned back against the bed, completely ignoring Marshall with the exception of one particular appendage as he stared up at the canopy. "It's funny, when I first saw you I wasn't interested. You came off all wrong, and straight to boot. But when you were on your knees at my feet, I just knew." He stroked Marshall agonizingly slow. "I knew you were mine."

"But I'm not--" Marshall's words were cut off in a gasp. Kyle's hand tightened painfully, and wasn't relenting any time soon.

"Yes, you are." Kyle responded tightly, barely moving his lips. "You are mine." With that, he flipped and straddled Marshall's hips. He drove their lips together with crushing force, demanding Marshall respond with a brutal bite to his lower lip. Marshall gasped from a cross between pleasure and pain, opening his mouth as Kyle pushed further. The kiss was violent and commanding; as if Kyle believed he could claim him with his lips.

And damn it all if it wasn't working.

Marshall fought against the restraints again, but this time he wasn't sure if it was to push Kyle off or to pull Kyle even closer. It didn't matter; he couldn't break through steel, or iron. Or whatever the hell the metal was. Kyle kissed him harder, tipping his head back. When he finally pulled away, he was heaving. Kyle's chest rose and fell quickly, and his lips were deliciously red and swollen, glistening in the dim light.

Wait...deliciously―what am I thinking? I don't―I can't―I'm not gay!

Marshall's eyes hardened and he tugged at the restraints. "Kyle uncuff me now. I'm tired of these games." He looked away from Kyle's face and glared at the white walls of the room, at the untidy bookshelf (the only thing in the entire apartment that wasn't immaculate, from what Marshall had seen) and the white candles only half-burned lining the windowsill. Kyle's hand released his throbbing member.

"Mark my words, Marshall. You'll be back and begging for more real soon." The tone in Kyle's voice was cold, a sound Marshall never remembered hearing before. He looked back for a split second, but Kyle's face was a blank mask. He grabbed the keys and made quick work of the cuffs. When Marshall was free, he rubbed his wrists and sat up, pulling the blankets over his prominent erection. Kyle stood and threw clothes at him, turning and walking out of the bedroom.

"Don't expect me to be at your beck and call. I don't need you, or your denial." Kyle refused to look at him, only pausing before the door fully shut behind him. "Figure out what you want before you open your mouth. Maybe you won't lie as much."

The door clicked and Marshall sat alone in the room at last. After a few moments of confusion at Kyle's sudden change -- though why he was surprised by the outburst was beyond him, since acting unpredictably was basically Kyle's MO -- Marshall slowly got dressed, grimacing at the gruesome effect orgasms had on his torso. There was no way to help it, though, so he shrugged on the button down and decided to shower when he got home.

The door opened easily, and the hallway was dark just like before. Marshall deliberated on calling out Kyle's name but decided against it. He didn't need that freak around; all he wanted to do was get out. He tried to remember which way to turn to get to the front door; thankfully he managed to find it on the first try. When he unlatched the deadbolt and grabbed the doorknob, he looked behind him. The empty, dark house looked a lot more foreboding than it had earlier, and Kyle was nowhere in sight. Marshall quickly tugged the door open and stepped over the threshold, releasing the tight breath in his chest, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Home. That's the important part. Forget Kyle. He doesn't matter. Just leave, and don't look back.

Unfortunately, as he walked down the steps of the porch and dug out his wallet and cell phone, he turned to stare at the inviting home behind him. He swore the house looked forlorn. He had no clue why he stood there staring, but he couldn't pull his eyes away.

What am I going to do now?