Chapter Text
∆∆∆
It had been a terribly busy morning.
Being the secretary to Mr. Ingo Trevithick, one of the famed Subway Bosses of Gear Station, was no easy feat. You were in charge of streamlining all the appointments and meetings he had for the week and everyday you make sure all goes according to schedule. Other than the Singles Line shifts he needed to put in, there were meetings with sponsorships and charities since 7AM. All the important things that demand the attention of a mini-celebrity that the Subway Bosses had.
"Mr. Ingo, we have a meeting with Mr. Prescott at 2:30pm about merchandising," you walked beside him while you listed out the schedule you've noted down neatly in your notebook. "As well as with Timburr Constructions at 4pm on the station's expansions."
The two of you walked with steps in sync with each other. His large leather shoes and your sleek dark heels tapped together in a duet as you both made your way to the offices. Ingo listened in on your report, but kept his chin high and his gaze forward. Several depot agents chirp a greeting to him, but they'd only receive back an expressionless curt nod. While their boss may appear stoic, they knew he was more cheerful than this. Was he having a bad day?
"Good luck, chief," someone whispered in your direction. You cast a glance at them and winked silently. You got this.
Ingo cleared his throat as the two of you rounded the corner to his office. "Let's discuss the briefings further inside."
"Oh," you paused to look at your wristwatch, silver against your skin. Then you took a second to check your surroundings. The silence meant that the two of you were alone in the corridor. "Sir, I still need to check the papers for-"
Ingo cuts you off. "Now."
Your eyes flitted up to his mercury ones. They bore into you sharply, pale irises with pinprick pupils. His hand was already on the handle of the door, twisting it open for you to step inside. With his other gloved hand, he points inside urgently.
You gave him a small, polite smile. "Surely, sir, this could wait-"
Ingo gripped the door handle so tightly, you could hear the fabric of his gloves stretch. "Yellow."
That was that. Without another word, you followed along and waited for him to join you before locking the door shut.
Ingo wastes no time. He marched behind his desk as if he still needed to hide from prying eyes. "Take it off."
You gaze at him softly, your smile unfaltering. Poor, poor Subway Boss Ingo. The dark and mysterious half of the twins, seconds away from shattering already? If only people knew.
You followed after him, placed the notebook down at the desk and your hands outstretched towards him. Ingo almost sags in relief but stiffens when he feels your hands reach his shoulders to trace lines down his chest and caress over his belly.
"You were doing so well too," you purred as your digits reached the buckle of his belt.
Ingo breathes in sharply through his teeth when you undid the zipper of his slacks. The gentle hum of the vibrating ring fills the air. Not a single soul in the station knew about it, but to him, it felt like he conjured an earthquake with every step he took. Each tremor sent wave after wave of bliss from his length throughout his entire being. He gasped when you freed his erection from his boxers, damp from sweat and precum. An indigo ring strapped around the base of his manhood, humming with life.
This was highly inappropriate work behavior. Extremely unprofessional and so beneath him. How did he manage to rope himself into this? Yet somehow, after weeks and weeks meticulous planning, you managed to convince him. His secretary, his lover, had made him walk around with a toy that fit snugly around his pulsing hard-on for god knows how long. He wasn't keeping count anymore. Time felt like a dream to him and only you were able to guide him along on it with your little notebook.
You press one of the ring's buttons and Ingo almost cums then and there just from feeling your fingers brush against his bare skin. It switches off and you slide it off his shaft, eliciting a long, low groan from his throat.
"Now," your smile grew wider as you trace a single index finger atop the head of his cock. You delight at the sight of him reeling. You just needed to give one more little push. "What are going to do with this?"
Ingo felt something snap at the back of subconsciousness. He'd been holding back for the entire morning. He had to put on the facade of an austere authoritative figure that demanded respect wherever he went. And now, he had lost all patience to keep up the act. So what was he going to do with himself?
"This," he answered gravelly. Before you could react, he twists you around by the shoulder and pushes you forward against his desk. One hand palms open to pin you there against the rose wooden surface while the other makes quick work to hike your black pencil skirt up your waist.
Despite the rough handling, you were giddy. You finally got him to come undone! The man had been so busy as of late, so wrapped up from work, you hadn't had a good session like this for weeks. The toy was an excuse to have some fun without getting too messy in the office, but oh, Ingo had miscalculated just how cunning you could be. You were anticipating this to happen. You bet that he'd go all feral with the ring you bought and boy, you went all in.
And now, you won the jackpot.
You let out a small whimper to goad him on when you feel him rip the fabric of your opaque tights. The flesh of your thighs peek through the holes he made and Ingo plants lingering kisses on them before he tears the fabric to your heat. With a hooked finger, he yanked your thin cotton panties aside before wriggling two thick fingers inside you.
"Shit, sir," you moaned, your tight entrance squeezed around him and his throat rumbles in delight. "You know what I really fucking want, don't you?"
"Language," Ingo reminds you, voice low as he pumps his fingers into you, wrenching out another wanton cry from your lips. "You started this, dear. At least let me get your pretty little engine ready for me."
God, you love how verbal Ingo could get. Your toes curled in your high heels and your fingers grip the edge of the table as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge of your climax.
"Maybe I didn't have to oil you up after all," Ingo chuckled tauntingly under his breath. "Listen to yourself."
He quickens the pace of his hand to the point you could hear the obscene slippery sounds of his long fingers threading in and out of you, how the palm of his hand slaps wetly against your cheeks. Your thighs quiver with every thrust he made and you were glad you were faced down on the table. Your face burned up and you'd die now if Ingo saw just how embarrassed you were from how eager you were for this.
"Pretty sure I was the one wearing the vibrator, not you," Ingo teased. He laughs darkly when you flinch at the sensation of his other hand snaked down from your back and around your hips. "It would be amusing if you came before I get my fill."
You clapped a hand over your own mouth to protect yourself from squealing like a beast when his other hand rubs at the bundle of nerves above your entrance in slow, deep circles. "Iggy– Iggy, please-"
"Address me properly."
You are going to strangle this man later. "Sir," you growled under your breath defiantly. "Please, sir, let me cum–!"
"Hmm," Ingo hummed in thought while his now thoroughly soaked hands showed no signs of letting up on you.
You held yourself there, on your toes and knuckles as white as snow around the edge of the desk while the knot in your core got unbearably tighter and tighter with each ruthless pump-
Before Ingo suddenly pulls his fingers out with a pop. You were in a daze at first before you scrambled up on your elbows to glare at him. Only to be met with the surface of the table again when Ingo pushed you back down. You hear your notebook fall to the ground with a little thump. You can feel your own nectar stain the back of your blouse, warm and wet.
"I didn't say you could get up," Ingo remarked dangerously slowly. "You didn't come, did you?"
"No, sir," you grumbled dejectedly.
You could hear the Skitty-like smile trace the corners of his lips. "Good girl," he praised you, knowing the words went straight to your core.
Your eyes widen when you suddenly feel the head of his shaft rub between your folds. You let out a silent gasp as he pushed himself in.
"You only get to cum around my dick," he groans between clenched teeth, filling you up to the hilt. "You boarded this car, now you must ride it."
There was a second of self-reflection before your demise. Perhaps you've miscalculated this gamble. You only wanted him to go a little feral. It was such a rare treat to see the usually stiff and proper Ingo come undone. You didn't expect that you created a beast. That was the last of your thoughts before Ingo took them all away with the smack of his hips and all you saw was white.
▽▽▽
"Mr Emmet Trevithick will see you now."
You jumped from your seat in the waiting room. The secretary, the guard dog of the Subway Bosses, eyes you for a moment. You attempted to nod politely at her to cast away suspicion but the most you could do was shiver.
"Are you alright?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
You gulp. "Am fine," you answered as you willed yourself to stand. Your knees wobbled and you begged the sun and the stars to please make your body cooperate with your head. "Just a little dizzy spell."
You burn under the woman's watchful eye before she settles her gaze back down to her notebook to continue her scribbling. You took this moment to scurry away towards your boss's office.
You were Emmet's Battle Assistant. Your assignments include making sure his team was fully healed, restored and ready for battle before and after each challenger. You also made sure he looked presentable for every new challenger. He can't look like he got tousled for the next person! Emmet was very particular about his appearance. It was you who made sure his tie wasn't crooked and his long coat was free from stains and wrinkles.
Most of your shift involved tailing after him until it was your breaktime. A lot of your co-workers playfully called you the Boss's 'Pet'. Emmet laughed a laugh of twinkling bells when he heard about that.
Oh, they had no idea.
You entered his office, spacious and pristine. He sat on his chair, lazily leaned back with his usual award winning smile.
"I am Emmet. You're finally here," he chirped your name.
Your feet shuffled beneath you, inching forwards. Every step you make sends shivers to your clit. Emmet watched your discomfort and his smile grew wider.
"How are you feeling?" He asked you innocently. "Have you been hydrating more often? It is important to keep your system well oiled for the tracks."
"I am," you strained to answer. You were half way across to his desk now.
Emmet beamed. "Such a well behaved pet I have."
Your knees buckle.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Emmet's brows rose as you caught yourself from falling over. "You're nearly at your destination. Yup! Let me have a closer look at you."
Your cheeks pinked when you realized just how haggard your breathing was. If no one knew any better, they'd think you ran a mile. No, no one had any idea what Subway Boss Emmet did to his beloved 'pet'.
"That's it," he said softly as he took your hand once you were close enough. With some guidance, you hobbled closer to his desk and he helped you sit on it. The flat wooden surface of black painted wood felt cool underneath you but the pressure it gave only made the pulsing in your pants stronger for better or for worse.
You noticed in his other hand, he held a pastel pink remote control. Emmet follows your gaze and he smiles up at you.
"Still on low setting, like I promised," he tells you. "Now open up for me."
With trembling fingers, you undid your forest green depot shorts. Emmet watched you slide them off, shimmying them from your hips down your thighs and around your ankles. You paused.
"Come on," Emmet coaxed you gently, his free hand resting on your knee to rub circles on it with his thumb. "All of it."
You shudder as you hook your fingers at the hem of your panties before pulling them down too. Before they slid off your crotch, the head of a toy that matched the color of Emmet's controller peeked out between your legs.
"Theeere," your boss smiled a smile that dimpled his cheeks. Your folds clench. "You did a verrry good job keeping it so secure."
Emmet called it the 'sucker'. In the shape of a rosebud, it was small enough to not look out of place underneath your shorts and it hardly moved when wedged between your panties. There was a little hole at the center of the bud that Emmet had aligned earlier right on top of your clit.
And it literally sucked. It had been suckling gently and slowly at your now erect and swollen clit. As you pull down your panties, you experience short lived relief when it wobbles off you until Emmet readjusts it.
"I'm going to have to ask you to keep it there, pet," he winked up at you.
You whimper in response and place a defeated hand over the toy, keeping the tiny mouth of it steady over your button. The soft pressure inside of it kisses and suckles on your flesh, making you inhale sharply.
"What's your safe word?" Emmet stands up from his chair, his hand snaked around your waist to caress the small of your back.
You quiver at his soothing touch. "Caboose," you managed to stammer.
"And you know you can say it aaany time you want if you want to stop," The corners of Emmets' lips pull upward. "Right?"
Your mind reels from the soft and slow sucking motions that you couldn't muster another answer. Instead, you just feverishly nod.
"Such a sweet and pretty pet that I have," Emmet cooed, as he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead. The spot there warms and you let out a pleading mewl which pulls a chuckle of amusement from him. "Let me feel you."
You gasp as you suddenly feel two fingers suddenly enter you, pushing through your entrance with ease as it gathers your juices to slip further inside. Your folds squeeze around him and Emmet lets out a long, deep purr.
"Don't come yet," his words were so quiet and kind, yet you knew it was an order. An order that felt impossible to carry out when Emmet hikes the intensity of the toy to Medium.
"Emm–!" You cry out, you're back arching forwards against him. You squirm, the hand on the toy confused on whether to let go and release you from this pleasurable torture or to grind the toy harder against yourself. "Emme– I can't– I really can't–"
"Yes, you can," Emmet whispers sweetly, planting kisses along your temple and down your cheek. His fingers inside you never moved, just stayed there buried and nestled in your core. "You can do it, my pet. My sweet, obedient little pet. You can hold on for Emmet, won't you?"
Your free hand grips his white coat desperately, wrinkling the fabric, but he doesn't mind. You close your eyes shut in concentration, your teeth ground together. Emmet watches you struggle with delight, the tent in his pants twitches in anticipation.
"I'm going to count down from ten," he tells you carefully. "And if you can hold on until one, you get a nice, little treat. Think you can do that?"
You peeked up at him and let out the faintest "Mhm."
"Good pet, sweet pet," Emmet murmured as he brought his face close to your ear to kiss your soft ear lobes. "Ten."
His thumb flicks over the remote button to High. You threw your head back and Emmet had to catch you before you fell over backwards with your legs jutted out in shock.
"Nine."
The pleasure was unbearable. It was almost as if Emmet himself was between your legs, lapping at your clitoris like there was no tomorrow.
"Eight."
Seconds felt like a blur to you. All you felt now was the pressure in your core that was aching, begging and screaming to come undone. You've edged yourself for far too long.
"Seven."
You let out a strangled cry when he suddenly hooked his fingers inside you. You begin babbling his name like a woman gone mad.
"No, no, you're doing so well! Six."
You begin to buck involuntarily against his fingers, against your toy. Your eyes begin to cross but you willed yourself to stay valiant.
"Five. You look so pretty when you do that."
A smile stretches on your own lips, matching Emmets', except yours looked a little drunk from ecstasy.
"Four. You're nearly there, my pretty little pet! I'm so proud of you."
Your grip on his coat tightens. Where were you even holding on to anymore?
"Three."
"Emmet, I'm–" you said between gasps, your pulse quickened with anticipation. "I'm gonna– it's gonna–"
"Almost there," Emmet promised with a kiss on your eyelids. You didn't realize that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Two."
You begin to chant, your mind nothing but mush that's being sloshed around. "Emmet, Emmet, Emmet, Emmet–"
Emmet suddenly pressed his forehead against yours. "One," he finally whispers. "Come."
Your screams were swallowed by his kiss on your lips before black spots danced before your vision as you came crashing down.