Office Confrontations Ch. 03

"No way, how perfect." She squealed.

"Yeah, well." Marshall muttered. Kyle went back to his pastry, eating with vigor―probably to avoid answering more questions. Smart bastard.

"One last thing." Clara started. Marshall wasn't surprised when Kyle ate faster.

"Alright fine, but this is the last one. We're eating for Christ's sake!"

"Who's the catcher, if you know what I mean?" Kyle literally choked, dropping his food and clutching his chest, pounding on it with his fist. Marshall swore he heard Kyle laughing.

"Ex--" Kyle coughed roughly. "Excuse m-me, I have to-to--" With that Kyle took off, scampering out of Marshall's lap and disappearing. Marshall merely continued to gape, completely taken aback by the question.

"I―we―what is wrong with you? You can't just ask people that!" Marshall sputtered.

"Please? I'm so curious, and you said one more question." She pouted pathetically, but that wasn't working on Marshall.

"Not that one! Besides we don't, we haven't...gotten that far." He finished lamely. Clara huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

"Oh, fine. But I get to ask one more question." Marshall sighed.

"Whatever, but no more sex questions." He glared. She nodded, face growing serious. Marshall waited as she took her time deciding.

"Do you, are..." She paused, deliberating.

"Yes?" Marshall prompted impatiently.

"Do you really care about him? Not just some hook up, or a 'phase'?" She asked. Marshall blinked, surprised by the change in conversation, but just as surprised by her concerned tone.

"Do I..." Marshall didn't know what to say. Clara nodded, finally keeping her mouth shut.

"Well, I think I--" he took a deep breath. "don't know how, and god knows why, but I think there's something...I don't know. Something. More than just some weird fluke or phase. Hell, if it is a phase I'm a fucked up individual." Marshall shrugged, dropping his eyes to the table. "I want to see where this goes."

Clara's face lit up in a grin and she reached over the side of the table to hug Marshall around the neck. Surprisingly, Marshall didn't immediately pull back from her embrace. The relief Marshall felt at admitting such thoughts out loud was palpable.

"Oh, thank goodness! I couldn't imagine how he'd survive if you didn't. You should have heard him after your fight, he was so upset. I thought his heart was breaking." That statement shocked Marshall, and his mouth gaped open, eyebrows furrowed. He knew Kyle wanted him for some reason or another, but he truly cared that much? Marshall had made up the lie about Kyle crying but...what if it was true?

Marshall shook his head. No way. It wasn't true. Kyle didn't feel that way, he was just...what? He was what? Marshall didn't know anything anymore. Nothing made sense.

"Um, look. I need to go save Kyle from embarrassment. I'll be right back." She nodded, sipping her frothy caramel drink. Marshall paused after he stood, staring at her.

"Was he really that upset?" Marshall asked. Her eyes tightened and she pursed her lips.

"Of course. But you saw him crying earlier, you already know that." Marshall grunted, turning toward the restroom.

Did Kyle really care? Or was that as fake as the rest of Kyle's personality?

Marshall no longer knew which Kyle was real. Worse, he didn't know which Kyle he was falling for―oh, fuck, 'falling for'? What the hell was his problem? Marshall shuddered and pushed the thought away. He was terrified, his whole body pulsed with nerves, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Was this real?

Was he really falling for Kyle?

Finding the bathroom took longer than expected, and gave Marshall way too much time to brood over his worries. Thankfully when he saw the Men's room he was able to brush off everything and focus on dealing with the task at hand. Eventually Marshall managed to open the door to the bathroom(his hand had held the doorknob for a good three minutes before he got up the courage to walk in) to search for his supposed boyfriend.

"Took you long enough." Kyle morphed out of the shadows of one of the stalls, eying him with an unreadable gaze. "I thought I was going to have to walk back all by my lonesome."

"No, Clara just kept bombarding me with questions, as usual." Marshall shrugged, stepping over to the urinals to relieve himself. The combination of too much liquid and Kyle's weight on his lap made for a disgruntled bladder.

"Oh, did she now? Care to share with the class?" Kyle came up behind him, tucking his fingers around Marshall's hips.

"Sorry Schnookums, I don't want to make you blush with such vulgar details." Kyle dug his nails painfully into Marshall's sides.

"Dammit Marshall, I--" Marshall flushed and zipped up, slipping from Kyle's grasp.

"Sweetie, I do so love our bathroom conversations but we have company to attend to." Marshall quickly scrubbed his hands and took off toward the door before Kyle could protest.

"Coming?" He called, holding the door open with a satisfied smirk. Kyle glowered. False bravado, back again in full force.

"You're going to regret that." He growled, stalking out of the bathroom. Marshall caught up to him and wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist.

"Oh, I hope so." Marshall whispered into Kyle's ear.

* * *

Dinner ended a few minutes later, with Kyle nervously tucked into Marshall's lap. He fidgeted incessantly, wiggling his foot, tapping his fingers on the table; however, he wasn't trying to frustrate Marshall, who finally had the chance to calm down from all the stimulation.

It was blatantly obvious Kyle wanted to leave. Especially to Clara, who promptly left by the second rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star via fingernails.

On the way home Kyle didn't say a word―outright refused to. Marshall eventually gave up trying to keep the conversation going and sat back, apprehensive.

They pulled up to Kyle's house, thankfully. That meant Kyle wasn't so pissed that he didn't want to see Marshall again. However, that did mean he was in for some kind of retribution, and there was no predicting exactly what Kyle would do next.

Kyle unlocked the deadbolt and left Marshall standing at the door, unsure about whether or not he should follow.

"Marshall." The light, emotionless voice sent chills down Marshall's back. He wasn't sure if they were good chills or foreboding chills but he knew he'd find out as soon as he stepped over the threshold and locked up.

Unsurprisingly, Kyle wasn't in the living room. He could see a glow lighting up the hallway. Of course Kyle was waiting in the bedroom.

Even with the uncertainty of Kyle's actions Marshall could feel himself getting aroused, though he willed his cock to go down to no avail.

Kyle stood in front of the bed, fully dressed. Not a good sign.

"You." Kyle's tone remained guarded and Marshall gulped visibly. "You just had to be a smart-ass on an innocent outing."

"Hey, sh--" Kyle glared at him and took a step forward.

"Strip. Get on the bed. Now." Short, forceful commands. Marshall dropped his gaze, embarrassed that he was reacting so quickly to Kyle's tone. He stripped, pretending not to notice the distinct erection jutting out between his legs.

Kyle said nothing as Marshall climbed onto the bed, laying on his back.

"Put your hands on the bars."

"But--"

"Do not test my patience, Marshall." Marshall's suddenly dry mouth snapped shut and he reached up to grip the metal bars. Kyle grabbed the cuffs from his drawer and leaned over. Very slowly he cuffed Marshall to the bed. Marshall licked his lips and wiggled slightly as the heat and need built up in his groin. Kyle finished with his wrists and moved to the bottom of the bed, gripping each ankle one at a time and pulling them out until he lay spread-eagle stretched out on the mattress, unable to move more than an inch in any direction. The ankle restrains were new, and frightening.

Yet Marshall had never felt so hard, or so eager.

"You are the most disobedient man I've ever met. It's time to show you exactly what disrespect earns you. I fear I've been too lenient." Kyle's voice instantly made Marshall rock hard, and somehow he found his tongue.

"Lenient? That was lenient? We need to get you a dictionary." Kyle said nothing, just turned on his heel and headed back to the drawer, prying it open and pulling something from it.

Marshall managed to catch a glimpse of it, but the band of leather and metal hoops baffled him. What the hell was he going to do with that? Marshall scoffed.

"Rings? What can they possibly teach me?" Kyl glanced at Marshall's expression and smirked.

"Why don't you watch and see?" Marshall raised a brow and Kyle slipped onto the bed, kneeling between Marshall's legs.

"What are you--" Marshall yelped as Kyle grabbed his cock, pulling it straight. With quick fingers, Kyle slipped the largest ring over his dick and pulled it all the way to the base, squeezing Marshall's balls through, causing Marshall to grunt.

Marshall struggled against his hands, pulling frantically but unable to escape. The pressure on his manhood was unbelievable, almost too much to stand. One by one, Kyle pushed the rings down his cock until all four - including the one behind his balls - were so tight they couldn't go any further back. The last one rested just beneath the head of his cock, and his dick curled toward his stomach as the leather stretched between the silver hoops, with very little room to give for either his cock or the rings.

"Kyle, what the fuck is that? And why does it―fuck," Kyle tugged at the leather band attached to the rings, and the tight grip tormented Marshall's poor cock, sending pangs of pain through his groin. He yelped and struggled, causing the metal rings to dig in tighter.

"They're called the Gates of Hell. Still feeling skeptical?"

"No. Fuck. I'm not skeptical, now take them off." Marshall fought against his bindings, unable to tear the damned hellish rings off of his cock without being able to use his hands no matter how hard he struggled.

"Why in the world would I do that? I'm enjoying myself way too much to stop now." Marshall groaned and bucked as Kyle ran a finger down his shaft.

"Very funny. Come on, ahh," Marshall barely bit off the moan. His eyes searched for Kyle's as he bit down on his tongue, covering the sounds trying to escape.

"I didn't say you could speak." Kyle pulled his hand from Marshall's cock to drag his nails down Marshall's stomach. "I told you I'd punish you earlier, didn't I? Maybe you should have listened to me."

"Dammit Kyle―ouch!" Marshall yelled. Kyle's nails sunk deeper into Marshall's chest, close to drawing blood.

"Boy, you are such a glutton for punishment." Marshall grunted at the comment, tensed until Kyle prized his fingers from his nearly gouged skin. "You just keep disobeying."

"Maybe normal people don't consider bondage as a likely punishment when they joke around." Marshall retorted. Kyle scoffed, eyes flashing. Marshall looked down at his aching need, feeling his groin tighten as blood rushed to the red crescent marks in his chest. "Not that I'm complaining." He muttered wryly. Kyle looked at him sharply.

"Are you saying you're enjoying this?" Kyle questioned. Marshall rolled his eyes, jutting his hips up, groaning when the tip of his cock smacked against his stomach, sending even more sensations through him.

"Does it look like I'm getting soft?" Marshall replied. He looked away from Kyle's gaze. He could feel the heat building in his face but could do nothing about it. He hadn't exactly expected to get turned on from Kyle's kinky tastes, but damn it all if he wasn't intrigued. His instincts screamed to fight, to run, to deny everything.

But Marshall was sick of denying himself, denying his desires. And Kyle's hands felt really good splayed out on his thighs. Marshall even caught himself taking in Kyle's hard body with lusting eyes. Yeah, there was no denying the truth of the matter. Kyle's every action, even breathing evenly and staring in confusion as he was doing at that second, turned Marshall on. By that point, denial was out of the question. Only aching need filled his conscious thought.

"You do understand the function of a cock ring, don't you?" Kyle responded with a tinge of amusement. Marshall reluctantly returned his gaze.

"I'm starting to learn." He grunted. "Look, this isn't something I've ever experienced, and I have never wanted to fuck a guy, but when I say I'm interested and am enjoying myself, you can damn well believe I mean it." Blunt, but accurate.

"You keep telling me you're sick of my bullshit. So am I. Now will you get back to...whatever the hell you've got planned? This cock thing is killing me." Kyle sat back, astounded. Marshall raised an eyebrow.

"What, can't finish what you started?" That set Kyle into action. He pulled Marshall's balls roughly.

"No more talking." Kyle ordered, stepping off the bed and grabbing something else from the drawer. He returned, acting as if they never had the conversation in the first place, which suited Marshall just fine.

Kyle trailed something across Marshall's chest, but the weird mini pom-pom thing didn't look familiar at all. The long, thin strings felt soft and ticklish on his skin wherever they touched him. This was punishment? This was all he's got? Marshall opened his mouth to comment, and the gentle tingling was replaced by sharp stings, pulsing across his chest where the tassels landed.

Marshall flinched, gritting his teeth. At least he hadn't been a pansy and yelped. The gentle teasing came back, trailing down his stomach in lazy circles. When the sensation dipped down lower and Marshall took in a sharp breath, leaning into the touch, Kyle raked him again with their unrelenting bite.

Marshall gasped, writhing.

"Damn, that thing hurts." He groaned. Kyle laughed.

"That's the point." He smirked, running the tassels across Marshall's cock. Marshall's eyes widened fearfully.

"You wouldn't." Marshall yelped, bucking. His chest heaved as his cock pulsed, angry and leaking. "Fuck!" Kyle smirked and trailed the awful device across Marshall's thighs. Marshall had heard of something similar, though much more archaic, and the word came to him.

Flogger. The bastard is flogging me!

"I think you'll find there isn't much I wouldn't do." Kyle smacked his legs hard and Marshall jolted.

"Dammit! You could at least - ouch! - warn a guy!" Marshall grunted, wincing when Kyle smacked him again.

"Why? So far you've lied and mocked me for your entertainment. I should get the same amount of satisfaction, no?" He asked. Kyle laid into his chest painfully, lighting up the fading skin once more with striped welts.

"Fuck! Alright, I'm sorry for teasing you. I was just trying to get back at you for all the molestations over the past few weeks." Marshall growled. Kyle paused, looking down on him.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked.

"Not great." Marshall grumbled.

"Give up?" Kyle taunted, hefting the damn mini-flogger-thing.

"Never." Marshall replied, lips upturned in a grin, eyes flashing. Kyle set the device down, instead of hitting him again as Marshall had anticipated.

"Then maybe I should stop toying with you and really put some effort into this." Kyle unlatched Marshall's ankle restraints. Surprised, Marshall reacted too late. As soon as they were undone, Kyle flipped Marshall onto his stomach, the cuffs on his wrists tightening painfully. The restraints were replaced and Kyle straddled his hips, reaching to adjust the cuffs.

"What are you doing now?" Marshall questioned, clenching his teeth as he tried to avoid crushing his poor, trapped manhood throbbing painfully underneath him.

"Do you really want to know?" Kyle questioned, sliding off the bed. Marshall shifted, enjoying the new-found friction. Kyle swatted his hip.

"None of that." He growled. "Scoot up." Marshall was much too far-gone to ignore the command. He raised on his hips as much as he could - maybe five inches max - and Kyle pushed a pillow under him, propping him up slightly.

"What are you--" Marshall started, but Kyle's sharp nails in his hip stopped Marshall from finishing the question.

"Lay back down, you'll see soon enough." He stepped back, but this time Marshall couldn't see what Kyle left the bed to grab, he only felt Kyle approaching as the bed shook from the sudden weight.

"One last thing for us to discuss before I consider forgiving you for all of this shit." Marshall attempted to look at Kyle, but he could only catch a glance at Kyle's arm, the one without the new "toy", or whatever Kyle found.

"Alright, what is it?" Marshall ventured.

Instantly Marshall howled and struggled against the restraints, cursing loudly. His left ass cheek flared up in agony, but it wasn't the sting of the flogger. No, instead of a few small welts, his entire cheek burned. Marshall's eyes watered.

"What the fuck was that for? This isn't a discussion." He half whispered, unable to breathe, his entire being centered on the aching burn on his ass.

"This is a very important component of our discussion. I would have started out with words, but you pissed me off so much I saw red." Marshall swore he could hear the fury in Kyle's voice.

"What did I do? All I asked was what you wanted to talk about." Pain flared up on his other ass cheek and he clamped his jaws onto the pillow beneath him, stifling the scream.

"Oh, I'll tell you Marshall." Kyle growled. "Schnookums?" Kyle demanded, sitting up from his position between Marshall's legs. Marshall paled. Maybe 'Schnookums' hadn't been such a funny nickname after all...

"Fucking Schnookums," Kyle beat his ass again with whatever the fuck he held in his hands, and Marshall blinked back tears.

"Fucking Schnookums, Marshall." Kyle reiterated as if Marshall hadn't heard him the first time, hitting Marshall again though he never made a sound to earn the punishment. "Of all the names you could have called me, that one infuriates me to no end."

"Ky--"

"Shut it." Kyle snapped, and there came a sound like whistling in the air before a loud smack, and a stinging shot across Marshall's ass right down the center, causing him to yelp and pull his head from the pillow.

"Every time I hear you saying Schnookums in my head..." At 'Schnookums' Kyle left a hard slap at the center of his ass, vertical across the cleft between his cheeks, and the welt burned like fire. "I want to pound your ass until you're screaming. And with every thrust I want to whisper Schnookums into your ear, so you know exactly what you've done to me." He smacked Marshall again at the nickname, this time lower and on his sensitive thighs.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you Marshall? Oh, no. I warned you when you first started that bullshit lie about me crying into your arms. You just kept on going, kept digging a bigger grave with that damned Schnookums." Marshall shouted and his wrists tugged hard on the cuffs, fighting though it was useless.

"The next time you call me that fucking word I swear I'll do more than leave your ass black and blue, you got it?" Marshall's breathing had grown shallow, body tensed in anticipation for the next slap. He gritted his teeth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as if the tighter he held himself, the less everything would hurt.

"Whatever you say, Schnookums." Kyle laid into his ass with whatever he held so hard and so many times Marshall's eyes squeezed shut and his breath came in short gasps.

"Oh, please, Marshall. Keep it up. I can beat your ass for hours, I've been meaning to take out my stress on something lately."

"Damn, Kyle, quit getting your panties in a bunch." Marshall hissed at Kyle's ass-abusing retaliation for the comment, though he couldn't imagine any inch of his ass not already flaming so Kyle really didn't need to dole out any more punishment, and pressed on. "It was a joke."