wine stains

by leec1fer

Summary:

“Quiet,” iTrapped said, pouring again, slower this time so the liquid ran in thin rivulets down the lapels before soaking in. “You talk too much for someone in your position.”

“My position?” Chance’s tone was sharp, but there was a flush creeping up his throat that wasn’t from anger. “Last time I checked, you’re the one playing bartender on my dry clean.”

iTrapped set the glass down on the table with a muted clink. “Last time you checked, you thought you had control.”

Or, iTrapped finds amusement through a glass of wine.

Notes:

its 3:04 am and im getting sm second hand embarrassment from this work idk im not this bad at writing ok

my smut is usually v short so i tried elongating it and Ummm ummm Also not beta read sorru for any mistakes

“On your knees.”

 

The words weren’t barked—they didn’t have to be. They came low, smooth, and certain, carrying the same inevitability as a door clicking shut.

 

Chance looked up from his chair, one brow lifting like he’d just been asked to fetch coffee. “You could at least say please,” he drawled.

 

iTrapped didn’t blink. He just tipped his glass, letting the deep red swirl lazily against crystal. “If I wanted polite,” he said, “I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

 

Chance’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a flicker in his gaze—tiny, sharp—that betrayed the way his pulse had just picked up. He rose, slow and deliberate, and then sank to the floor with his knees parting, one after the other. Even kneeling, he kept his spine ruler-straight, hands loose on his thighs like this was some kind of boardroom concession.

 

“Happy now?” he asked. “Or do you need me to shine your shoes while I’m down here?”

 

“You’d scuff them,” iTrapped replied, stepping forward until Chance had to tip his chin back to maintain eye contact. “And I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything without leaving a mess.”

 

“Oh?” Chance tilted his head. “Maybe I just like watching you clean up after me.”

 

The smirk vanished from iTrapped’s mouth before it could finish forming. He reached for the wine bottle, filled his glass with unhurried precision, and then held it above Chance’s chest.

 

The first splash hit cold, blooming across the pristine white fabric in a deep, spreading stain.

 

Chance hissed through his teeth. “Hey—this suit cost more than your—”

 

“Quiet,” iTrapped said, pouring again, slower this time so the liquid ran in thin rivulets down the lapels before soaking in. “You talk too much for someone in your position.”

 

“My position?” Chance’s tone was sharp, but there was a flush creeping up his throat that wasn’t from anger. “Last time I checked, you’re the one playing bartender on my dry clean.”

 

iTrapped set the glass down on the table with a muted clink. “Last time you checked, you thought you had control.”

 

His shoe moved in, just enough to brush against Chance’s thigh before pressing down into his lap. Not hard enough to draw a gasp, but enough to make Chance’s breath catch for a fraction of a second.

 

“Careful,” Chance warned, though his voice had lost some of its edge. “You’ll crease it.”

 

“That’s the idea,” iTrapped murmured. He ground his heel ever so slightly, feeling the tension ripple through Chance’s frame. “All that effort to look perfect… and for what? So I can ruin it in minutes?”

 

Chance gave a small, defiant laugh, but it cracked at the edges. “Maybe I like the way you ruin things.”

 

“Don’t try to romanticize it,” iTrapped said, leaning closer. “You exist to follow me.”

 

Chance’s mouth opened like he had a retort ready, but iTrapped’s gaze stayed locked on him until the words withered.

 

“Now,” iTrapped continued, voice dropping to something quieter, heavier, “you’re going to do exactly what I tell you. And you’re going to do it without your hands.”

 

Chance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What, you want me to juggle?”

 

“Unzip it,” iTrapped said, tilting his chin toward his pants, “with your teeth.”

 

Chance barked out a laugh, but it was short, incredulous. “You’re insane.”

 

“Do it.”

 

The air between them thickened. Chance’s smirk lingered a moment longer, but his breathing had changed—shallower now, each inhale pulling the scent of wine and heat into his lungs. Slowly, almost theatrically, he leaned forward, his gaze never breaking from iTrapped’s.

 

“Fine,” he said, his voice softer, more dangerous.

 

“But if I ruin your suit, you’re paying for the repairs.”

 

iTrapped's eyes lit up with a sadistic glint. "Oh, I will," he assured, the words trailing off with a hint of amusement. "But not until you've earned it."

 

Chance leaned in and took the zipper between his teeth, tugging it down with a slow, deliberate motion. iTrapped’s eyes never left Chance’s face, the way his pupils had dilated, the way his cheeks flushed with a mix of defiance and arousal.

 

“Good boy,” he murmured, the words barely a caress. “Keep going.”

 

The fabric parted, and the smell of Chance’s need hit him, potent and unmistakable. Chance’s hands remained on his thighs, his fingers flexing slightly, but otherwise he obeyed, his eyes locked on iTrapped’s.

 

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Chance said, his voice low and gravelly.

 

He reached up with both hands, thumbs hooking under the waistband of iTrapped’s pants. He tugged them open, one button at a time, the fabric parting to reveal the boxers beneath.

 

iTrapped’s breath hitched, but his expression remained a mask of cold indifference. “You don’t deserve the real thing yet,” he said, his voice a purr that sent a shiver down Chance’s spine. “You need to prove yourself first.”

 

Chance’s eyes narrowed, but he could feel his cock straining against the fabric of his own pants. He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the cotton.

 

iTrapped’s hips jerked forward slightly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s right,” he murmured. “Taste what you can’t have yet.”

 

Chance’s tongue traced the outline of his cock, the fabric a barrier that only heightened his frustration. He moaned, the sound low and desperate, and iTrapped’s smug expression grew.

 

“You want it, don’t you?” iTrapped taunted, his hand coming down to rest on the back of Chance’s head, guiding him closer. “But you can’t have it until you’ve proven that you can be a good little slut for me.”

 

Chance’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desire, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He knew the game, knew that fighting back was only going to make it better. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of iTrapped’s arousal through the fabric.

 

iTrapped’s grip tightened, his hips moving slightly in time with Chance’s tentative licks. The warmth of his hand was almost too much, and Chance could feel his own cock throb in response. He swiped his tongue over the growing bulge, teasing the tip, making iTrapped gasp.

 

“Not enough,” iTrapped said, his voice tight. He reached down and yanked Chance’s head up, their eyes meeting again. “You need to show me how much you want it. How much you need it.”

 

With a smirk, Chance leaned back. “Is this what you want?” Chance asked, his voice a challenge. “Me, begging for it?”

 

iTrapped’s eyes raked over him, taking in the sight of the wine stains spreading on his shirt. “It’s a start,” he said, his voice a low growl.

 

“Pick up the pace. Clean up your mess,” he ordered, gesturing to his own crotch.

 

Chance’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. He leaned back in, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of wine that had splashed onto the fabric of iTrapped’s pants. He licked and sucked, his eyes never leaving iTrapped’s face. The fabric was wet and sticky, the wine making him feel even more obscene, more desperate.

 

“Fuck, yes,” iTrapped hissed, his grip on Chance’s head tightening. “Just like that. Like you’re dying for it.”

 

Chance’s hips rolled into the pressure of iTrapped’s shoe, grinding against the leather and the firmness beneath. He could feel his own arousal pooling in his pants, making the fabric stick to his skin. He moaned, the sound muffled by the fabric, and the vibration of it sent a tremor through iTrapped’s cock.

 

“Look at you,” iTrapped said, his voice tight. “So eager to please, even when you’re being a brat.”

 

He stepped closer, his thighs pressing into Chance’s shoulders, forcing him to deepen his throat on the fabric. Chance’s eyes watered, but he didn’t pull back. The pressure was delicious, the stain on his suit a dark blossom that grew with every swipe of his tongue.

 

“You like that, don’t you?” iTrapped’s voice was a soft purr, his hand stroking Chance’s hair. “The feel of the wine on your mouth, the smell of my need on your clothes. You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

 

With a cruel smirk, iTrapped reached down and peeled away the sodden boxers, revealing his hardened length. Chance’s eyes went wide with desire and desire, eager for his reward. The air grew thick with anticipation as iTrapped’s hand curled around the base of his cock, guiding it towards Chance’s mouth.

 

Without any warning, iTrapped abruptly shoves his cock down Chance’s throat, causing him to gag and choke around it. Chance’s eyes water and his cheeks turn red as he struggles to breathe, but he doesn’t pull away. He knows this is what he’s here for—what he’s begged for. He closes his eyes and relaxes his throat, letting iTrapped take control completely.

 

“That’s it,” iTrapped says, his voice thick with lust. “Take it all. Show me what a good little slut you are.”

 

Chance’s eyes water around the cock invading his mouth, but he doesn’t pull away. He lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating against the flesh filling his throat. His hands clench into fists on his own thighs, the fabric sticking to his palms with his own need. The heel of iTrapped’s shoe presses down harder on his crotch, grinding into his erection with a merciless precision that sends sparks of pleasure-pain through his body.

 

iTrapped’s voice is a low murmur above him, a stream of degrading words that Chance can’t even understand through the haze of desire. They’re just sounds now, the rhythm of his dominance syncing with the movement of his hips, the pressure on Chance’s mouth, the heat building in his core.

 

He can feel the wetness spreading between his legs, the fabric sticking to his skin as his cock jerks in response to the cruel pressure. iTrapped’s hand moves from his hair to his throat, not choking, but there—a constant reminder of who’s in control.

 

iTrapped’s hips began to move in a steady rhythm, fucking Chance’s mouth with the same ease as he had poured the wine. Each thrust brought a muffled moan from Chance, the sound vibrating against his shaft and sending shockwaves of pleasure up to his core. He could feel Chance’s tongue struggling to keep up, the way he desperately tried to swallow around him, the way his throat muscles tightened with each gag.

 

And then, with a suddenness that took even iTrapped by surprise, Chance’s body went rigid. His eyes flew open, locking onto iTrapped’s, and a strangled sound tore from his throat—half gag, half moan.

 

Chance’s hips jerked, his cock pulsing against the pressure of the heel, and hot cum spread through his pants. He didn’t touch himself, not once. It was all from the relentless pressure of the heel and the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of serving iTrapped’s cock.

 

iTrapped didn’t miss a beat, chuckling darkly at the sight. “You’re such a mess,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. He stepped back, his cock slipping out of Chance’s mouth with a wet pop. Chance gasped for air, his eyes glossy.

 

“Strip,” iTrapped ordered, his eyes raking over Chance’s trembling form. “And bend over the table. Show me how much you want me.”

 

With a huff, Chance shrugged off his wine-soaked jacket and tugged at the sodden shirt, buttons popping and fabric tearing under his impatient hands. He threw it to the side, his chest heaving as he reached for the zipper of his pants. They stuck to his skin, but he managed to peel them off, leaving him in nothing but soaked boxers.

 

He glanced up at iTrapped, the smirk returning to his face. “Is this what you want?” He asked, gesturing to his half-dressed state. “A mess for you to play with?”

 

iTrapped’s eyes were on the prize, his gaze lingering on the wet spot on Chance’s boxers. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the outline of Chance’s cock through the fabric. Chance’s breath hitched, and he didn’t bother hiding his desire anymore. He knew what was coming, and he craved it.

 

With a cruel smirk, iTrapped reached down and ripped the boxers away, tossing them aside. Chance’s cock bobbed in the cool air, leaving him fully exposed and vulnerable. His ass was already in the air, begging for the touch of the man who had so easily reduced him to this.

 

iTrapped picked up the wine bottle, tilting it so the deep red liquid sloshed against the side. Chance’s eyes went wide with anticipation, his breath hitching in his throat as the bottle hovered above him. And then, with a suddenness that made him gasp, the wine cascaded down, pooling in the small of his back and seeping into the crack of his ass.

 

The cold shock of the liquid made Chance’s muscles clench, but the heat that followed was a warm embrace that made him melt into the sensation. iTrapped’s tongue was hot and wet as it traced the path the wine had taken, lapping up the mess he’d made of Chance’s suit. He circled the tight ring of muscle, teasing and taunting, making him squirm and beg for more.

 

“For someone who complains about messes, you clearly enjoy making them,” Chance managed to say, his voice thick with desire.

 

iTrapped’s only response was a low chuckle, the sound sending shivers down Chance’s spine. The cold wine had left his skin goosebumped, and the sensation of his warm breath was almost too much. Chance felt himself spread his legs wider, his body begging for more, even though he knew it would only make him look more pathetic.

 

And then, without warning, iTrapped’s tongue was there—hot, wet, and demanding, pushing into his ass. Chance moaned, his head dropping forward to rest on his folded arms. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of pleasure and humiliation making him feel like he was going to burst.

 

iTrapped didn’t hold back, his tongue delving deep and exploring every inch of Chance’s hole, savoring the taste of his arousal and the faint tang of the wine. He licked and lapped, his movements growing more urgent with every second.

 

Chance’s body quivered with each stroke, his legs shaking as he struggled to stay in position. His breath came in ragged pants, his voice a low moan that grew louder with each moment. The wine had made his skin slick, and iTrapped’s tongue slid easily along his crack, painting him with the evidence of his own desire.

 

iTrapped’s hand gripped Chance’s hip, holding him in place as he feasted on his ass. His tongue was relentless, pushing into his hole with a hunger that was almost feral. Chance could feel the man’s excitement, the way his cock pressed against his thigh, and the thought of what was to come had him writhing with need.

 

“Please,” he gasped, the word torn from his throat. “I need more. Fuck me. Now. Please, please, please...”

 

“Is that all?” iTrapped’s voice was a low, amused purr. “So polite now, are we?”

 

Chance’s eyes squeezed shut, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table. “If you want it pretty, you’ll have to work for it,” he ground out, the words punctuated by his gasps.

 

iTrapped’s tongue withdrew with a wet pop, leaving him feeling exposed and desperate. “Is that a challenge?” He asked, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo in the room.

 

“You know it is,” Chance panted, his hips rising slightly.

 

iTrapped chuckled darkly, his hand moving to trace the line of Chance’s spine, the cold wetness of the wine leaving a shiver in its wake. “Then maybe it’s time to see how pretty you can beg,” he said, his voice a whisper against Chance’s skin.

 

He stepped back, letting Chance’s body quiver in anticipation. He took his time, watching the way his breathing grew more erratic, the way his hips rolled slightly, seeking something—anything—to fill the void. And then, with a smirk, he stepped closer again, the tip of his cock nudging against Chance’s entrance.

 

Chance’s breath caught, his body tensing as he felt the warmth and pressure. “Fuck me, please,” he begged, his voice raw.

 

iTrapped leaned in, his breath hot against Chance’s ear. “Beg for it like you mean it,” he murmured.

 

Chance’s voice was a strangled whine, his hips rocking back to meet the promise of the cock that hovered just out of reach. “Please,” he gasped, the word almost a sob. “Please, fuck me. I need it, I need you inside me, I need to feel you claim me, I need—”

 

iTrapped’s smirk grew wider, and he didn’t hesitate to push into Chance, the slickness of the wine making it all too easy. Chance’s body tensed, his muscles tightening around him in a vise-like grip, but iTrapped didn’t slow down. He pushed in deeper, inch by torturous inch, until he was seated fully within him.

 

“Fuck, yes,” iTrapped groaned, his hands coming down to grip Chance’s hips. He began to move, setting a pace that was slow and deliberate, savoring every second of the tight heat that enveloped him. Chance’s moans grew louder, his body trembling with each thrust.

 

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic symphony of lust. The wine on Chance’s back had turned sticky with heat, making iTrapped’s grip slip and slide as he claimed his prize.

 

Chance’s moans grew louder, his body moving with the relentless pace that iTrapped set. His ass was a perfect fit, tight and eager, and iTrapped couldn’t resist the urge to reach around and stroke his cock. It was hard and slick with precum, pulsing in his hand.

 

“Oh fuck, yes,” Chance gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. “It’s so good, so fucking good. Don’t stop—please—don’t ever stop.”

 

iTrapped’s thrusts grew stronger, his fingers digging into Chance’s hips as he drove deeper into him. The sound of their skin slapping filled the room, echoing off the walls.

 

“You like that?” iTrapped asked, his voice a low, taunting growl. “Feeling me fill you up, stretching you out?”

 

Chance could only moan in response, his voice hoarse and desperate. The feeling of iTrapped’s cock inside him was overwhelming, a delicious fullness that made him feel both used and cherished. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through him, making his toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head.

 

"You're so tight," iTrapped murmured, his voice a low growl. "So perfect."

 

He could feel Chance's body tighten around him with each thrust, the warm embrace of his ass clamping down as if trying to hold him in place. The sound of their bodies slapping together grew more intense, and Chance's moans grew louder.

 

But iTrapped wasn't content to leave Chance's nipples ignored. He reached around, his hand closing around one, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The sensitive nub was already erect from the cold wine, and the sudden touch made Chance's body jolt.

 

"Oh, you like that?" iTrapped asked, a cruel smile in his voice. "You're so sensitive."

 

He twisted the nipple harder, and Chance's back arched, his mouth opening in a silent scream. The pain was pleasurable, a sharp contrast to the fullness inside him.

 

“Fuck, yes!” Chance managed to gasp out.

 

iTrapped’s eyes lit up with delight at the sound of Chance’s pained pleasure. He pinched the other nipple, twisting it in sync with his thrusts, watching as the pleasure-pain danced across Chance’s face. His own breath grew ragged with exertion and desire.

 

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “You’re filthy—nothing but a perfect, delicious mess. So eager for me to use you up.”

 

The words only served to inflame Chance’s desire. He pushed back against iTrapped’s cock, his movements growing more erratic. “Fuck me harder,” he begged, the words spilling out of him like a chant. “Please, I need it—I need you to ruin me completely.”

 

iTrapped’s grip tightened, his nails digging into Chance’s flesh as he complied, his hips slamming into him with an intensity that made the table shake beneath them. The sound of their bodies colliding grew louder, the room seeming to pulse with their shared need.

 

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” iTrapped’s voice was a dark whisper in his ear, his breath hot and ragged. “You’re going to scream my name as I fuck you through this mess you’ve made.”

 

“I’m gonna cum,” Chance panted, his voice shaky. “‘m gonna cum so hard—”

 

iTrapped’s hand moved faster, stroking Chance’s cock in time with his own thrusts. He could feel the tightness around him, the tension building. He knew Chance was close, his body begging for release.

 

“Come for me,” he whispered, his voice a dark demand.

 

Chance’s eyes flew open, and his body tightened as he obeyed, his orgasm crashing through him like a tidal wave. He screamed iTrapped’s name, the sound echoing in the room, his cum spurting out onto the floor below. His body convulsed around iTrapped’s cock, each spasm sending waves of pleasure through them both.

 

iTrapped’s eyes rolled back in his head, his own release following closely behind. He thrust one last time, hard and deep, and came inside Chance with a roar. The feeling of their climaxes melding together was almost too much, leaving them both trembling and panting for breath.

 

For a moment, they stayed like that, iTrapped’s cock still buried inside Chance, their bodies slick with sweat and wine. And then, with a soft chuckle, iTrapped leaned down to kiss the back of Chance’s neck.

 

“Good boy,” he murmured, his voice a gentle caress that sent a shiver down Chance’s spine.