Work Text:
"You," his boss points a finger hard into his chest, "have been slipping. Your work has been below your usual average." He waves a stack of papers in his other hand, stuffing them in the boy's face. "Look at this."
He doesn't even need to read a word to recognize the work from yesterday. "I-I'm sor-," he tries to choke.
"You submitted these in full seriousness?" Lloyd continues, growling. "Or do you have the audacity to think it's funny to be bad at your job? For your sake, I almost hope it's the latter."
"It's just..." It's just that Lloyd has been assigning him a workload nearly double that of his peers. It's just that Lloyd has been keeping him late at the office so he can have his way with him again over and over. It's just that it hurts to lie in bed and it hurts to be awake and the few hours he does manage to sleep, Lloyd creeps into his dreams and hurts him all over again.
"It's just what? What could possibly be more important than your work?"
"N-nothing, sir, I just haven't been feeling well."
Lloyd makes a loud 'tsk' before sighing. "First, you slack on your assignments. Next, you lie to me! Clearly I was wrong to ever believe you were worthy of my attention."
A thick knot pulls at his throat, blocking any answer.
"My office. After work. You know the deal." He's punctuated with the hard noise of tearing the stack of papers straight in half. The paper scraps shower to the ground like snow. "Pick those up."
He scrambles to the ground, almost too eager to hide his teary eyes away from Lloyd. His superior lets out a 'tsk', staring down at him until he starts to walk away. He waits until heels cracking are a distant echo to let out his sniffles and sobs.
The walk to his office that night is slow, dragging his feet. His hands shake at his side. He’s had all day to run through every possible thing Lloyd could do to him, yet at this point, it’s impossible to come up with anything worse than what he already does. Somehow, that’s comforting rather than worrying.
He opens the door carefully. “There’s my useless mutt,” he says from the desk, voice dry. His fingers clack on the desk rhythmically. The boy stands across from him, head bowed. “Have you forgotten how to speak, too?”
“Lloyd…” he starts, “I-I apologize so, so deeply for the mistakes in my work. It was, ah, an extreme lapse in judgement on my end, and… and I will do everything in my power not to let it ever happen again.” He clasps his hands together, but meets Lloyd’s eyes with the little might he can muster. His superior hasn’t moved a muscle. Sat back in his chair, head leaning on his human hand while his other arm continues tapping. It’s like a metronome, tracking every painful second since the boy finished his worlds.
“And?” The boy presses his lips into a thin line as his superior stands up. “You really think a stammered ‘sorry’ is really going to worm you out of this? And here I thought you’d worked with me long enough to know how I operate.” He walks around the desk, all the way until he’s mere centimetres from the boy. “I don’t accept apologies. I give punishments.”
His superior grabs him by the collar and he lets out a noise of shock. The fabric digs into the back of his neck, but it doesnt hurt nearly as bad as his fruitless attempt to claw his arm away. The boy tries to cower away, pressing his neck back further into his shirtcollar, which proves a mistake the moment Lloyd uses the motion to hurl him to the ground. The noise that leaves his mouth is agonizing. He looks up at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll do anything, sir! Please, it really won’t happen again! I understand!” His voice is rough.
Lloyd stands above him and places a careful heeled shoe right below his chin. “It’s almost cute how you can’t resist calling me ‘sir’ the second you’re underneath me.” The tip of the heeled boot pushes his head back before he can speak, choking his words. Lloyd towers above him, leaning over to overwhelm his vision with only the sight of him.
He half wheezes, half screams when Lloyd crushes his ribs under his sole. The pain only increases with the pressure. Grooves of his shoe press right into fresh scars, scars that Lloyd knows intimately of.
“Tell me what happens to a horse that can’t run,” he coos down to him, still bruising his chest.
He gawks for a moment. “Th-they die?”
“Yes. They get shot,” he says with a smile, before stomping down on his stomach. He lurches, grasping at the floor and squirming and struggling. The pain is completely different to cutting. It rolls through his body in nauseating waves, sending his brain into an overdrive of instinct that screams at him to get away. “Tell me what happens to a sheepdog that can’t herd.”
He can only grunt, as Lloyd continues to crush the soft organs of his body under his foot.
Apparently his answer isn’t that important. “Euthanized,” calls Lloyd. He lifts his boot up and the boy gasps, every breath shaking through his whole body. “Now, tell me what should happen to a human that can’t do its damn job!”
The boy trembles and squirms in anticipation. “Ah, f-fired?”
Lloyd hesitates for just a moment. “You’re stupider than I thought,” he mumbles. Then he lands straight on his lower abdomen, sending a new rush through the boy’s body. One less fearful and more urgent.
“Ah,” he stammers, “no, no!” Lloyd smiles like he’s struck paydirt. The toe of his boot is right below his bellybutton, while the heel is right between his thighs, right on… He squeezes his thighs together, but it only worsens the situation. The pressure isn’t painful anymore, it’s completely embarrassing as he thinks back to how he hasn’t used the bathroom since this morning and how used he is to getting off on Lloyd’s cruelty and how he’s only pushing down harder and-
He shakes and shudders, both from the feeling of the sickening warmth that pools under him and the force of his orgasm. His hands shoot to his face as the two feelings wrack his body and he has the urge to just deflate and disappear from the world.
Lloyd stares at him with no amusement whatsoever. Then his eyebrows crease and he leans down again, right to his face. "You're a stupid fucking slut," he growls. "I could rip you limb from limb and you'd still get off to it." The boy can only pant as he comes down from his high. “It’s unbelievable.”
The boy is still breathless, humiliation burning a hole into his chest more painful than anything Lloyd could do to him. The idea that he could do… that had never crossed his mind, let alone on the floor of his superior’s office. Any momentary pleasure is gone as his mind wracks and twists itself with panic.
Lloyd stares down at him, arms crossed and silent. A different look crosses his face, one the boy is much more used to, as he sighs. "You're that desperate to be a filthy disgusting animal?” he says. “I'll give you what you want." His vision is blurry but his ears register the clinking noise of Lloyd's belt. "On your knees."
His face is hot and there's a lump in his throat. He swallows at the thought of taking Lloyd's cock, but his legs shake and his stomach twists in protest. Of course one of the few times Lloyd lets him suck him off is when he's dirtied in his own drying piss. He slowly pushes himself up, resisting the gags that crawl up his throat at the feeling of his wet clothes clinging to him.
Lloyd leans against his desk, staring at the boy with a look that hurries his movements. He scooches to him, knees between his heeled shoes. His cock springs free effortlessly, still only half-hard. The boy looks up at him with wide eyes. "Ah, you need…?" He can't bear to finish the sentence.
"How well trained of you," says Lloyd with a toothy smile. He grabs his assistant by the chin and juts his head upwards, a claw tracing his lips. He opens his lips obediently to let Lloyd's cold thumb pet his tongue. It's all he can do not to bite down when he flinches from the pain. It's agony, feeling blood rush from his tongue and the coppery taste being so absolutely inescapable.
While he's still reeling from the pain, he barely registers Lloyd pulling on his tongue until it's just past his lips. He jolts again when hard cock lands on his tongue, copper taste now mingling with salty pre in a way that sends shivers down his spine. The hot feeling of Lloyd's cock against his lips shocks his brain back into function and he slowly slides the head into his mouth. He swirls his tongue the best he can, eyes focused on Lloyd and trying to track any ounce of satisfaction that might cross his face. "Efficiency really isn't your strong suit, isn't it?" says Lloyd, unaffected.
He grimaces and swallows before trying to take as much of Lloyd as he can. In one careful movement, he makes it maybe halfway before he gags and tries to back off, only to be met with claws on the back of his head. His chest heaves as coughs wreck his body, but to no release as Lloyd forces him stable. Tears well up in his eyes as he tries his best to breathe through his nose to little aid. "With how much of a cocksucker you are everywhere else, I'm suprised to see how awful you are at this," he says dryly. "Suppose I'll have to do everything for you, as always." With that, he pushes himself further, all the way until his nose is met with coarse hair.
Tears spill down his cheeks as he struggles to breathe, only for Lloyd to harshly pull away. He can only manage a half breath before Lloyd slams him back to the base. They fall into a rhythm which the boy could only compare to drowning. Suffocation to minimal release to suffocation to minimal release, only compounded by increasing pace. He can hear Lloyd's breathing pick up into something quick, but not urgent. For a moment he looks down at the boy in a way that sends his heart soaring. A look that is quickly washed away like writing in the sand, replaced with a grimace.
Just when he swears he's gotten the hang of it, Lloyd pulls out completely. He pants deep, musty hot gulps of air.
"Open," calls Lloyd, snapping him back to attention. Lloyd's human hand is firmly wrapped around his cock, pumping himself. Somehow seeing Lloyd pleasure himself is more lewd than anything they've ever done together. Yet worse is that his cock is sticky with blood, his blood. He awaits with his mouth wide, tongue stuck out again.
The taste is awful. And it just keeps coming. When Lloyd pumps hot loads onto his tongue, he clenches his thighs together. He's leaking so much he might as well be pissing himself again.
"Don't swallow," he says sternly. The boy stares at him blankly, frozen in place and confused. The answer comes in the feeling of hot liquid on his tongue again, tasting different this time. Realization hits him like a gut punch. Lloyd stares at him and smirks from above, holding his cock right above the boy's lips, letting piss dribble from his mouth down his chin. "Stupid fucking piss whore takes anything he can get."
“T-thank you, Lloyd,” he says, dazed. His mind is too far away to formulate anything else.
“Oh, no, thank you,” says Lloyd with a grin. He turns to his desk to grab something, rectangular and hefty. “You’re not leaving that spot until you redo your work and finish mine.” He places what the boy recognizes as his own laptop in front of him, just away from the puddle of… fluids. “And make sure it’s up to my standards this time, alright?”