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Pocket touches down quietly on the fire escape outside their window, back from (attempting) to sabotage one of their father's warehouses. Quietly picking open the lock on the window, (Thank you, Krill!) Arin puts the cursed suitcase down gently on the floor before stepping through the window themselves. Exhausted, Pocket doesn't realize that they've accidentally opened the wrong window and is in a stranger's bedroom. Collapsing into the bed, they immediately settle into the comforting heat of the mattress. Arin takes a deep breath, and then another, and another, taking in the familiar... wow, that smells really good...
Pocket's eyes snap open, pushing off the bed, nearly jumping out of the bed. The man Arin had been laying on sits up in the bed, his muscled arms flexing as he rubs sleep from his eyes. The tank top the man wears rides up his stomach, revealing a body built not unlike a strongman, with a layer of fat hiding dense, powerful muscle.
"I'm sorry, I opened the wrong window and I really shouldn't be here, so I'll just- be going..."
Pocket trails off, as the man throws the sheets off his legs, rising from the bed. He's huge, already several inches taller than Pocket's slight frame. He slowly begins to pad over to Arin's slightly shaky form, their skin pale in the moonlight of the window. Pocket is barely eye level with the man's chest, as they back up against the window.
"Why are you so eager to leave? You certainly seemed to get real cozy real quick..."
The man leans a hand against the wall behind Arin, not trapping him in, but merely suggesting being snagged.
"My eyes are up here, gorgeous." Pocket startles, their eyes snapping up to meet the man's soft grey eyes. Pocket struggles to maintain eye contact, constantly flicking their eyes down to get another quick peek of the man's chest.
The man leans over Pocket, his voice rough and deep from sleep.
"You can leave, if you want. Go back to your own cold bed... or, you could come back to bed with me. I can see you staring at my chest, gorgeous."
The man's voice pours into Pocket's head like honey, a syrupy warmth spreading over their body. The man's... cologne(?) can be smelt from here, working double team with that honey sweet voice to break down Pocket's resistance. They know they should leave, but their bed would be so cold...
"Go on. Do what you want to do, gorgeous. Be a good boy, take what you want."
The man's face splits into a soft smile, knowing Pocket is hooked.
Arin leans in, the logical part of their brain quickly being drowned out by the comforting, warming scent of the man in front of them.
"There we go, good boy..."
Arin finally lets their nose reach the man's open armpit, taking small sniffs at first before becoming greedier, taking deep huffs, the exhaustion seeping off of Pocket's frame as they relax.
A pair of strong hands gently wrestle Pocket from their place under Nico's arm, before easily lifting Pocket by the thighs, carrying their relaxed, boneless form into the bed. As they hit the bed, the man appears to grow, Nico using a hidden Colossus in the bedside table.
The size difference is nearly comical. Pocket is dwarfed by the man, as they're covered by the sheets, trapped between Nico's chest and the thick duvet. Nico begins to sweat, purposefully making himself hot to release more of his scent into the pocket (hah) that Pocket is trapped in. Pocket is trapped in, intaking more and more of Nico's pheromones, a heat growing in Pocket's belly and their brain filling with soft cotton.
A massive thigh is pressed between Pocket's legs, rubbing against their clit. Their hips stutter, embarrassment keeping Pocket from grinding further.
"It's okay, you can grind. Just relax for me, Arin..."
Something deep in Pocket's mind whispers that the man shouldn't know Pocket's real name, but the heat in their belly and the feeling of the man's powerful legs grinding on Pocket's clit quickly drowns out any concerns.
"Good boy, Arin. No more thoughts in that pretty head, okay?"
Pocket nods against Nico's chest, their breaths slowing, the deluge of soft encouragements falling from Nico's mouth massaging any doubts and worries of out Pocket's defenseless mind.
"Use your words, Arin. Do you feel good?"
"Mmhm..."
"Good boy. You like when I call you a good boy, don't you?"
"Mmhmmmmmm...."
Pocket's gentle hums of affirmation get longer as they relax more and more, any last drop of doubt seeping out of their mind.
"Do you wanna be a good boy for daddy?"
"Mmhm! Mmhm!"
Nico's strong arms gently come up to grab at Pocket's thighs, lifting the smaller's hips. Pocket whines at the loss of contact, thrashing their hips to try to regain that friction on their clit.
"No, papa, please, please..."
Nico chuckles.
"Aww, papa, huh? You wanna be papa's good boy, Arin?"
"Please, papa, please, do anything..."
Nico's eyes soften as he stares down at Pocket.
"Really didn't think you'd break quite this easily. You must've been exhausted, ~~Master~~ Arin."
The word right before their name pings around Pocket's foggy mind, but they just can't comprehend. It's as though it's been scrubbed from Arin's mind...
"I was your servant, once. Always knew being controlled by a real man would do you some good..."
Nico's words slide over Pocket's smooth mind like water off a ducks back, the boy practically reduced to a dog, helplessly rutting against nothing. Nico sighs, exasperated but fond.
"You wanna cum, Arin? You wanna cum all over daddy's thigh like a good puppy?"
Arin yips, reduced to nothing but noises in their desperation. Strong hands set Arin's thighs down around Nico's leg, and Pocket immediately begins grinding again, drooling all over Nico's chest in their haste.
"Calm down, puppy. It's okay, you can take your time..."
Arin begins to cry, overstimulated but unable to cum. They begin to beg, "Please, please papa, please, please lemme cum, gotta cum..."
"Aww, do you need your papa to tell you to cum? Would that help?"
Pocket's tears and drool nearly make a pool upon Nico's chest, as they rapid fire affirmation, pleads, begging.
"Aww, okay... I'm gonna count down from 5, okay? And then you're gonna cum so hard, you'll forget your own name, okay?"
"Mmhm! Mmhm!"
Nico's smile becomes slightly crazed, his goal of taking away Pocket's stresses entirely nearly complete.
"Five... feeling all those nasty thoughts build up in that poor brain of yours..."
A gentle push up of Nico's thighs causes a trail of Pocket's slick to touch the sheets.
"Four... start transporting all those yucky thoughts down into your cunt. Down, down down, into your silly clit..."
Pocket begins to feel their brain drain of their thoughts, leaving them gently blissed out, overstimulated and drooling.
"Three... feel that coil of heat in your tummy get tighter, and tighter, and tighter..."
Pocket's flushed and hot, the duvet off their slight frame as they burn up, chasing their orgasm.
"Two... Feel yourself relax, and get ready for your mind to shatter for me... Getting ready to accept me as your owner."
That word pings something deep, deep in Pocket's psyche. That slight, barely there part of them that still holds some semblance of sense begins to cry out, attempting to fight off the oblivion that pleasure will bring.
"Are you ready? You know if you cum on my thigh, you'll be mine, right? You'd be my slave. But I'm a benevolent master... I'll take great care of you, my love. Become mine. You know you want to... You don't have to speak."
Nico gently brushes Arin's sweaty hair out of their flushed face, Nico's smile gentle and sweet as they stare into their unfocused eyes.
"I know there's a foolish part of you in there that wants to resist. But you don't deserve to be unhappy, you deserve to be taken care of, by me. If you really don't want this, then you can stop grinding on my leg and escape. I know you have the willpower to."
A moment of silence follows, the sensible part of Pocket's brain slowly gaining traction.
"Or you can just fucking cum like a dumb mutt and be my slave."
Pocket's body chooses the latter. Nico's voice pierces through that sudden clarity, the fog rushing back in as Pocket experiences the most earth-shattering orgasm they've ever experienced.
"There we go... you're such a good boy, accepting your place... good, good, good boy..."
Nico's rough voice gently filters in through the fog, rewriting Pocket's being.
Arin shakes, legs quaking and breathing aborted. Their eyes are wide open, their pupils blown wide as dinner plates. The sudden recognition of Nico's cock through his boxers is enough to make Pocket's entire body flush a scarlet red, their cunt clenching as a yawning hunger begins to take root in their belly.
They stare into each other's eyes. They're not going anywhere, for a long while.