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Sweat dripped from Spamton's brow as he frantically looked from the door down to the desk. He sat in Tenna's office chair, hunched over, trying desperately to hide his lap and stay silent. He quickly lifted his tie into his mouth, biting down hard and clenching his eyes shut to focus on not making a single sound. He jerked his cock furiously, chasing relief as fast as he possibly could.
Tenna would be in at any minute.
Tenna could be there any second.
Spamton shivered at the idea of that, of Tenna finding him, looming over him, questioning him.
It was shameful, it was embarrassing. But, it was exactly the high that Spamton needed.
He whimpered, the sounds barely muffled by the saliva-soaked tie in his mouth. He leaned forward even more, pressing his forehead against the edge of the desk as his hand sped up, faster, harder, tugging at his cock so desperately that it was almost painful. He didn't dare stop at the feeling of discomfort. He didn't have enough time.
Tenna's footsteps sounded outside the door. Spamton couldn't hear them.
He barely held back a low moan as he came across his hand, his pants, the underside of the desk. He sank back, relaxing as the need for friction subsided.
The door opened. Spamton finally looked up, an expression of pure terror on his face as he locked eyes with Tenna. He scrambled to shove his cock back into his pants, his face flushing a bright, burning red. But, it was too late.
Tenna slowly slid the door closed. "So, this is where you ran off to." He approached the desk menacingly, each step dragging across the floor, his heels clicking quietly. "I was almost worried about you, having slipped away so soon after filming." He circled around Spamton, taking in his disheveled nature. His jacket was hanging off the chair, his shirt was untucked, his belt undone and zipper all the way down. His cock was barely contained by the visible bits of his boxers, and Tenna chuckled at the sight. "Now what happened to make the Big Shot so desperate for attention?"
Spamton's shoulders trembled, and he hunched in on himself. "You said something," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "While we were on air."
"Did I?" Tenna mused, clearly knowing exactly what Spamton was talking about, but deciding to tease him anyway. "And what was that, Spammy? What could I have possibly said to make you act this way? Sneaking into my office, sitting in my chair, touching what is mine?" Tenna leaned in close, muttering those last four words directly into his ear.
Spamton felt a shiver run down his spine. He swallowed hard, and embarrassment flooded his demeanor. He started to intertwine his fingers together, obsessively picking at his skin as he stared down at his shoes. "It-it was just like that, Sir," he muttered. "You said I was yours. You gave me a look, you-you came up next to me, you put your ha-hand on my shoulder, and you said mine. Loud and clear. Plain as day."
"And why did I say that, Spammy?" Tenna's fingers ran from his shoulder to his neck, carefully curling around his throat and tightening ever so slightly.
Spamton bit back a strained moan. "A contestant was trying to- they were trying to- they joked about me being the prize, Sir. For winning the round."
Tenna rewarded him with a gentle squeeze to the throat and a kiss to his cheek. "You laughed at that, didn't you? Oh, but you were nervous. I could tell. You knew what I would do if someone were to try and take you from me."
"Yes, Sir."
Spamton gasped as Tenna's hand twisted around his neck, pulling him backwards and into a bone-crushing embrace. Tenna rested his chin atop Spamton's head, wrapping his free arm around his waist to keep him in place. "What would I have done? Tell me."
Spamton could feel Tenna's cock straining the front of his pants, pressing up against his ass, rubbing along the dips and curves. Tenna was ever so slightly grinding against him, giving himself the friction he desired. He grabbed a handful of Spamton's waist and dug his nails into his skin, clearly unhappy with his silence. Spamton cried out at that, holding onto Tenna's arms for support. "Would have," he was interrupted by a breathy moan leaving his lips. "Grown so large that you crushed them. B-break them over your knee like a stick."
"That's right," Tenna kissed him again. "And?"
"Would have- would've-" Tenna moved to lean Spamton down, slowly bending him over at the waist, pressing his cheek into the desk. "Fuck." He whimpered as Tenna's hands pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles.
"Keep going, I'm still listening." Tenna grinned as he spread Spamton's legs, and a singular finger encircled his asshole.
"Would've taken me in front of them," Spamton huffed out, the words leaving him embarrassed and flustered. "Because I-I'm yours."
"Yes. You're mine." Tenna kissed his way up Spamton's spine, before landing on his neck and biting the crook of it. "Everything you are belongs to me. I fucking own you. You get that?"
"Yes, Sir," Spamton squeaked out.
Tenna dug his fingers into his hair, grasping it by the roots and pulling him up a few inches. He brought his other hand to his mouth, and Spamton quickly took the digits between his lips and started to suck. He coated Tenna's fingers in saliva, moaning and whining as he felt him grind his cock into his ass. Tenna yanked his head back, making Spamton arch his back and let out a muffled cry of pain. His cock rutted against the edge of the desk, and he tried to roll his hips into it, give himself release, but Tenna quickly took the hand from his mouth and used it to smack his ass.
"F-fuck!" Spamton managed between breathy huffs, but he was immediately cut off as Tenna's hand returned to his mouth, shoving his fingers down his throat with newfound vigor. He continued to suck them, but he started to gag as Tenna was ruthlessly thrusting them deeper, harder, faster.
Tenna leaned over Spamton, his body covering him entirely. He used his weight to press Spamton flat against the desk, crushing his chest, relishing as he struggled to breathe. His legs shook under the weight, his knees buckling as he tried but failed to keep himself upright. His feet slid out from under him, and he was only barely being held up by Tenna's weight on him, keeping him in place, not letting him squirm. "Who do you belong to?"
Spamton choked, and the fingers left his mouth, allowing him to speak. "Mr. A-Ant Tenna," he whimpered, and was rewarded with a tender kiss to the side of his face.
"Good," Tenna mused, and slowly stood to his full height. He helped Spamton steady himself, but kept him bent over the desk, letting his hand remain firm in his hair. He tugged it experimentally, and Spamton let out stuttering moans with every yank. He smirked at that. Then, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk. Underneath a false bottom was a beautiful red collar made of pristine leather, with a shining golden buckle. Dangling from the golden loop at the front was a name tag, but it didn't have a name on it, at least not Spamton's name. Engraved on the golden tag was Property of Mr. Ant Tenna. He easily unclipped it, then fastened it around Spamton's neck, adjusting it so the tag hung in the center of his throat.
Spamton relaxed as the collar settled in its place, and all thoughts other than Tenna, Tenna, Tenna melted away. He would never admit it out loud, but the feeling that the collar provided was comforting. As long as he wore it, he felt safe. Nothing could hurt him, no one would take him, everyone would know exactly who he belonged to. He breathed easily, and his eyes gently closed as Tenna peppered his back with kisses.
Tenna ran his fingers along his spine, then let his hands fall to his ass. With his fingers still slick with saliva, he pressed one inside of his asshole. Spamton's mouth dropped open in a moan, and as he shifted, the collar jingled, the sound music to his ears. He focused on it, moving his body more so than usual, just to hear the satisfying clinking.
Tenna chuckled and carded his fingers through his hair, then curled his hand into a fist and jerked his head to the side. "You like the noise? You like that sound?"
"Yes, Sir," Spamton gasped out. "Means you own me, means you love me, means you take care of me." His head was turned, and a soft kiss was planted on his lips. He pressed up into it, desperate for the affection.
Tenna added a second and third finger, splitting them apart easily and letting his thrusts speed up. He continued to kiss him, stealing the air from his lungs, relishing as he tried to gasp and squirm. "Mine," he muttered. "Mine, all mine. As long as you wear that, as long as you always look to me, you're mine."
"Yours," Spamton moaned. "Always yours."
Spamton whimpered as Tenna's fingers left him, but he perked up as he heard a zipper being undone, and the soft flump of clothes hitting the ground. Tenna shifted, stepping out of his pants and kicking them to the side. He leaned over him again, carefully inching his cock into Spamton's asshole. He bottomed out easily, then let out a satisfied sigh. "You take me so well. Fuck." He pulled out, and just as Spamton was about to complain, he snatched him by his waist and manhandled him onto his back.
Spamton shrieked at the sudden shift, and he came face to face with Tenna. He hovered over him menacingly, with a large grin on his face. He brushed Spamton's hair behind his ear and stroked his cheek, then captured his lips in a passionate kiss. He swallowed every single sound from Spamton's throat as he thrust himself back into his asshole, slamming up against his prostate. He targeted that spot, and Spamton's body started to tremble. He threw his arms around Tenna's broad shoulders, his legs wrapping around his large waist, his ankles barely able to meet in the middle of his back. He braced himself against the desk as Tenna took what he wanted, fucking Spamton with desperate vigor.
Tenna's head was right beside Spamton's ear, and he lavished his neck with kisses and skin-breaking bites. He licked the blood, a shiver running down his spine as Spamton cried out in pain and pleasure. He lifted a hand to his throat, his fingers tracing where the collar met his skin. Then, he let his grip tighten, clenching his fist and squeezing until he started to gag and choke. Spamton latched onto Tenna like a lifeline, shuddering sobs wracking his body as he could only lay there and take everything he was given. Tenna was gracious enough to give him a few seconds to breathe every so often, but Spamton knew that the amount of bruises on his throat would be extremely difficult to hide.
He didn't care.
He wanted them to see.
For the first time ever, Spamton needed the world to see who he belonged to, how he was owned, and how well he was taken care of.
He didn't feel shame, he didn't feel embarrassed. All he could feel was love and belonging.
Tears pricked Spamton's eyes, and they soaked his cheeks in no time. He moaned and whined and shook as Tenna's pace sped up, his hand still squeezing his throat, while the other snaked up from the bottom of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He pinched one of Spamton's nipples, roughly tugging and twisting and yanking it as he fucked him.
Tenna paused the assault on his nipples, instead turning his attention to the bulge poking out from Spamton's belly. He gasped quietly at the sight of it. "Love, you're like putty." He grinned. "Your body changes for me, adapts to me. Made just for me. Can only take me."
He was always so surprised at how Spamton's body reacted to him, how much it stretched and molded to his touch, his cock. He pressed a large hand on Spamton's belly, and it covered most of it. "I always forget how you're so small compared to me, Spammy." He could almost cup his hand around his waist and hold him like that, but just barely. "You fit perfectly in my hands." He pushed his hand down harder, and Spamton squirmed and writhed, moaning and gasping as he could feel every single inch of Tenna's cock inside of him.
Tenna chuckled to himself, his fingers encircling the head of his own cock, stroking it with a low groan. "You feel like heaven, Spams. Absolute heaven. Perfect. Completely perfect. Just for me. You're completely ruined for anybody else. They could never pleasure you the way I do. The way I stretch you, fill you, breed you. Nobody else could ever. Ever."
He continued to fondle himself for a few more moments, entranced by the feeling of Spamton's body in between. A quick and impatient whine from Spamton snapped him back to reality, and he kissed him swiftly as an apology for being sidetracked. He let his hand return to Spamton's nipple, resuming the twisting and yanking.
Spamton's brain went foggy soon after. The pleasure was so much, the heat in his belly pooling, begging for release. Tears soaked his face, sliding down his cheeks to pool on the desk. Tenna watched with bated breath as they fell. He could never get enough.
Spamton bucked his hips, and he felt Tenna nod against his neck. "Cum for me, love. Show me how much you love me, how much you need me, how you can't be without me," he huffed in his ear, kissing and biting and sucking more and more marks into his tender, sensitive skin.
The world around him quaked as his orgasm ripped through his body, propelled by passion and overstimulation. Tenna fucked him through it, keeping his pace steady. The only change was he generously lifted his hand from Spamton's throat, allowing him to breathe and whimper and cry out. Spamton's cum coated his and Tenna's stomachs, and just when he thought Tenna would slow to a stop, he didn't.
Tenna continued to pleasure him, now with both hands fondling his nipples. His hips remained steady, his pace refused to stutter or pause. Spamton cried out, his hands scrambling for purchase on something, anything. They landed on Tenna's shoulders, his nails digging into soft silicone. His entire body felt like it was on fire. It was so much, too much. "Te-Tenna-!" He gasped out, his voice raspy and strained. He clenched his eyes shut and moaned louder, higher pitch. He was clearly wanting to say more but he was unable.
"You can take everything I give you," Tenna murmured in his ear. "Even if it's too much." He finally started to stutter in his rhythm, and Spamton sobbed at the feeling of warmth spreading throughout his body. Tenna came hard, then slowed his thrusts to a stop. He kept his cock buried deep in Spamton's asshole, rocking forward a few times to fuck him just a little more. He coaxed him down from his overstimulated high, gently kissing his face and rubbing circles on his chest.
Spamton's body twitched with every touch, his vision blurry with tears as he subconsciously searched for Tenna's face. He smiled a little as he saw him, and he melted into the kiss that followed suit.
Tenna peppered him with kisses, muttering words of praise. "Good, so good for me. My perfect husband. You're mine, all mine."
Spamton relished every word, nodding along as Tenna cared for him, smoothing his hair, kissing the bruises already forming on his skin. "Yours," he whispered. He slowly lifted his left hand to his face, and pressed his ring to his lips. Then, he guided Tenna's hand to his face and did the same, gently kissing the ring on his finger. "I love you."
Tenna chuckled at the display, his heart swelling with love and adoration. "I love you, Spammy."
Spamton relaxed on the desk, content and satisfied. Then, he cracked an eye open to see the absolute mess they had made. Papers were strewn all over the floor, pens and staplers and paperclips were thrown about. He groaned as he brought his hand to his face, covering his eyes in embarrassment. "We have to clean up."
Tenna hummed. "Sometime."
Spamton's eyes shot wide open. "The crew!"
Tenna shrugged. "What about them?"
"They-!"
"No, they didn't." Tenna grinned. "I made sure to tell them that if anybody came near my office, I'd fire them."
Spamton flushed a deeper red than he'd ever thought possible. "You-!"
"Of course I knew!" Tenna laughed. "You think I wouldn't notice you popping a boner in the middle of the show?" He reached to cup his cheek.
"Don't say it like that!" Spamton shrieked, smacking Tenna's hand away from his face with a shameful scowl. "You should know, you should know not to tease me on screen!"
Tenna stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry in his face. "I know. But you were so cute trying your best to hide it."
Spamton smacked him again and shoved his shoulders, but Tenna's hulking frame didn't budge. "Don't fucking- I'm going to get you back, I swear."
"I'm looking forward to it, Spammy." Tenna kissed his cheek, ignoring the groans of protest. "Love you," he said in a sing-song voice, clearly still teasing.
Spamton couldn't help but soften at the words. He huffed haughtily, trying to stay upset, but Tenna kissed him chastely and he melted once again. "Love you."