The penthouse elevator opened directly into Damian's lair—a cathedral of glass and steel perched above Central Park, where the city's pulse throbbed thirty-eight floors below like a living heartbeat. Alex stepped out barefoot, overnight bag clutched to his chest, the jewelled plug shifting with every nervous shuffle. He'd followed instructions to the letter: suit discarded in the lobby restroom, collar—sleek black leather with a discreet silver ring—buckled around his throat the moment the private car pulled up. Nothing else. The doorman hadn't blinked; apparently, MMrVoss's guests came in all states of undress.
**[Straight-Façade System | Target: Damian Voss | Level 3 Progress: 10/200 SP]**
**[Active Perks: Silent Orgasm Skill (Lv1), Remote Tease (Lv1), Desk Drawer Toy Kit (Lv1)]**
Tie materialised mid-air, lounging on an invisible chaise with a martini glass. "Welcome to the executive suite, asset. Tonight's agenda: sign the live-in contract in bodily fluids. Pro tip: the safe word is still 'merger,' but Damian's allergic to it."
Damian waited in the foyer, shirt unbuttoned to the sternum, slacks riding low on carved hips. No tie tonight—yet. His gaze catalogued every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the collar like a brand. "Kneel."
Alex dropped. The marble was cold against his shins, a shock that arrowed straight to his cock. Damian circled, predator slow, trailing a single finger along the leather. "Good. You followed protocol." He hooked the ring, tugging Alex's head back. "Repeat after me: I am MMrVoss's personal stress-relief asset. My body is overtime property. My orgasms require approval."
Alex's voice cracked. "I am… MMrVoss's personal stress-relief asset. My body is overtime property. My orgasms require approval."
Damian's smile was razor-sharp. "Louder."
He repeated it, cheeks flaming. The words sank into his bones like warm wax.
Damian led him by the collar into the living room—floor-to-ceiling windows framing the park's dark canopy, city lights glittering like sspiltdiamonds. A single spotlight illuminated a low ottoman draped in black silk. On it: the contract, a fountain pen, and a crystal bowl of lube warmed to body temperature.
"Sign."
Alex crawled forward, ass high, plug glinting. The paper was thick vellum, clauses glowing under the light:
- **Clause 1:** Resident intern resides in penthouse 24/7. Curfew: whenever Damian snaps.
- **Clause 2:** Daily uniform: collar + whatever Damian chooses.
- **Clause 3:** Orgasms logged in the system. Unauthorised release = punishment.
- **Clause 4:** Public façade maintained until further notice. Breach = termination.
Alex's hand shook as he scrawled his name. Ink bled slightly—Damian's doing, pressing the pen deeper. The moment the final loop dried, the system chimed.
**[Live-In Contract Executed. SP +80 → Level 3 Achieved! New Perk: Collar Link – Boss senses arousal spikes within 100m. Façade Integrity: 86%.]**
Damian's phone buzzed in sync. He glanced at it, eyes darkening. "Already at 67%? Eager." He pocketed the device, then produced his tie from last night—silk stained with dried cum. "Open."
Alex parted his lips. Damian fed the fabric in, knotting it behind his head like a gag. "No talking. Just feeling."
He manoeuvred Alex onto the ottoman, face down, ass up. The plug was removed with a slick pop; cool air kissed his gaping hole. Damian's tongue followed—hot, wet, merciless. He rimmed him until Alex was pushing back, muffled pleas vibrating the silk. Only then did Damian stand, shedding clothes with efficient grace. Naked, he was a study in lethal elegance: broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, cock jutting proud and heavy.
He slicked himself, then pressed in—bare, skin on skin. Alex's eyes rolled back. The stretch burned sweet, every ridge dragging over sensitive walls. Damian set a punishing rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping against Alex's. One hand fisted the collar, arching Alex's spine; the other reached under to pinch a nipple until it throbbed in time with each thrust.
"You live here now," Damian growled against his ear. "Sleep in my bed. Wake with my cock in your mouth. Shower with my cum running down your thighs." He punctuated each promise with a brutal stroke. "Say it."
Alex nodded frantically, tears soaking the gag. The collar link pulsed—Damian's arousal feeding back into Alex's, a feedback loop of raw need. He was close, so close—
Damian pulled out abruptly. Alex whined, empty and aching. "Not yet." He flipped Alex onto his back, legs over his shoulders, and slid home again. The new angle nailed his prostate dead-on. Damian's hand wrapped around Alex's throat—not squeezing, just owning. "Look at me when you break."
Their eyes locked. Arctic blue bored into hazel, stripping Alex bare. Damian's thrusts turned erratic, control fraying. "Come."
The command shattered him. Alex's orgasm ripped free—silent, endless, cum striping his chest in thick ropes. His hole clenched rhythmically, milking Damian until the CEO followed with a snarl, flooding him deep. They collapsed, Damian's weight a grounding anchor.
Minutes—or hours—later, Damian withdrew, plugging Alex again with a larger toy from the drawer kit. "Retention protocol." He untied the gag, kissing the indentations it left. "Welcome home, asset."
Tie flickered into view, projecting holographic stats above them. **[SP +120 → Level 4 Progress: 30/300. New Perk Unlocked: Overnight Recovery – Stamina resets at dawn. Rival Alert: Victoria en route to the enthouse. ETA 20 min. Façade Integrity: 84%.]**
Damian's phone lit up—Victoria. He silenced it, but his jaw tightened. "Shower. Dress casually She's coming for a 'surprise visit.'"
Alex's stomach dropped. "Sir—"
Damian silenced him with a finger. "You'll sit on the couch, legs crossed, plug hidden. If she suspects, you take the fall. Understand?"
Alex nodded, throat dry. They showered together—clinical efficiency masking lingering touches. Damian dressed him in soft sweats and a hoodie, collar tucked beneath. The plug hummed faintly on low, a secret reminder.
The doorbell chimed. Victoria swept in like a glacier in stilettos, perfume sharp as broken glass. Her gaze sliced to Alex curled on the sectional, pretending to review reports on a tablet.
"Intern at your penthouse, Damian? How… progressive."
"Reed's pulling an all-nighter on the Tokyo merger," Damian lied smoothly, pouring scotch. "Efficient use of resources."
Victoria's eyes narrowed on Alex's neck—collar peeking just enough to taunt. "He looks exhausted. Perhaps he needs rest."
Alex shifted; the plug nudged his prostate. Remote Tease activated—Damian's doing. A low buzz started, insidious. He bit his lip, focusing on the tablet. Numbers blurred.
Victoria leaned close to Damian, voice honeyed poison. "We need to discuss the gala. Alone."
Damian's hand settled on Alex's knee under the table—possessive, grounding. "Reed stays. He's integral."
The buzz intensified. Alex's cock hardened against his thigh, pre-cum dampening cotton. Victoria's gaze flicked down, catching the subtle twitch. Her smile turned feral.
"Integral," she echoed. "How quaint."
Tie whispered in Alex's ear: "Abort protocol? Or ride it out for SP?"
Alex met Damian's eyes—pleading, defiant. Damian's thumb stroked his knee once. *Hold.*
Victoria produced invitations. "Seating chart. You'll escort me, darling. Tradition."
Damian's grip tightened. "We'll see."
The buzz hit critical. Point Alex's vision tunnelled. He excused himself silently, stumbling to the bathroom. Door locked, he yanked down his weats, hand flying to his cock. One stroke—two—
The door opened. Damian. He pinned Alex to the sink, replacing his hand with his own. "Did I say come?"
Alex shook his head, tears pricking.
"Then don't." Damian edged him mercilessly—stroking to the brink, stopping, repeating until Alex was sobbing. Only when Victoria's heels clicked away did Damian allow release, catching it in his palm.
"Lick."
Alex obeyed, tongue lapping his own spend. Damian kissed him after, sharing the taste. "Good boy. She's gone."
They returned to the living room. Victoria had left a gift: a single red rose on the contract, thorn piercing the paper where Alex's signature bled.
Damian's phone buzzed—an anonymous text: *Cute pet. How long until the board sees the leash? –K*
Kyle.
Tie pinged: **[Overtime Alert: Midnight – Location: Rooftop Helipad. Dress Code: Harness Under Clothes. Penalty for Tardiness: Kyle Gets the Collar Cam Feed. Arousal Meter locked at 99%.]**
Damian crushed the rose in his fist. "War's on."
Alex's reflection in the window stared back—collared, claimed, terrified. The city lights winked like paparazzi flashes. Tomorrow, the gala. Tonight, the rooftop. And somewhere below, rivals circled.
The collar warmed against his skin, a promise and a threat. He was in too deep to climb out.