Chapter Text
From then on, Stone’s tasks had two distinct flavors: manual/menial labor focusing on practical tasks that needed to be completed to keep the work running smoothly, and new strange tasks that had a sexual bend to them, average tasks twisted to humiliate and arouse him. The latter were always followed by a mandatory supervised cooldown.
He was allowed to continue with many of his favored tasks – cleaning the maintenance pit, breaking down wood plank shipping crates, reorganizing various areas of the building, deep cleaning the kitchen – giving him the physical stimulation that he’d come to appreciate during the workweek. Those tasks remained the same, affording him comforting predictability.
Acting as Robotnik’s footrest quickly became a normal occurrence. For any meeting in which he was expected to take notes, Stone would report to the lab. Robotnik would push his chair out from the console, allowing him to crawl underneath. He’d assume the position, ready to simultaneously type and bear weight. He was always left with unasked questions afterward.
Why, he’d think on the long walk back to his office, What’s in it for you?
Notably, he lost his temper for the first time in a long time a few weeks after this new aspect of the protocol had been enacted. He’d had an unfavorable interaction with a rude repeat offender he often had to deal with in submitting Robotnik’s budgetary paperwork. He moved to report the issue with Robotnik, delivering the bad news that his next expected payment would arrive later than expected. Robotnik had already been a foul mood for unknown and unrelated reasons.
“Doctor, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Stone said, looking at his back as he continued to work, “They’ve changed their payment process again.”
Robotnik didn’t say anything.
“They’re requiring more frequent re-registration in their portal,” Stone continued, “I’ve completed yours, but it will take seven-to-ten business days before they approve it and release the funds electronically.”
“Agent Stone,” he said, voice cold, “what have I told you about interrupting my work with non-emergent patter?”
Stone’s frustration got the better of him. He shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“Damn,” he said, “just trying to keep you informed.”
Robotnik whirled in his chair, facing him with a look that filled Stone with dread. He immediately stood straighter.
“Sorry, sir,” Stone said quickly.
Robotnik shook his head slowly with a disappointed tsk.
“And you were doing so well with talking back,” he said, meeting his gaze again with a dangerous look, “I was beginning to think we’d broken you of that nasty little habit.”
Stone wanted to defend himself, to explain that it had been an extremely trying morning, to air his frustration about the government’s convoluted internal processes, to state that what he’d said hardly warranted punishment. Robotnik’s harsh glare silenced him.
“Clearly, the application of electricity is not working in this regard,” Robotnik said, “Luckily, I have another reprimand prepared for just such an occasion, in the event that you slipped back into bad habits.”
Stone felt as though his pupils had reduced to pinpoints. His heart raced. He had no idea what could possibly be in store for him.
“Fuck,” he said.
The word had just slipped out. Judging by Robotnik’s grim expression, it had not been appreciated and he would not be making any allowances. He stood slowly from his chair, footsteps audible as he approached, the lab seeming to go silent around them. Stone had always marveled over how Robotnik could single-handedly shift the energy in any room. Now, though, consumed by his radiating vexation, Stone felt only anxiety. Robotnik stared him down in close contact for several seconds, like he used to do before he would freeze him out for hours or days. Stone’s stomach dropped.
Please, he thought, anything but that.
Robotnik sidestepped him, coming to stand to his left and slightly behind him. Stone made a startled sound when a gloved hand closed over the collar of his jacket, right at the nape of his neck.
“Go,” Robotnik said firmly, “Move.”
Stone quickly broke out into a sweat as he was marched down the hallway to the right of the console, lights flickering on in their approach, each providing a respite of only a few feet separating them from the darkness ahead. He could tell Robotnik’s grip was incredibly strong, having lifted his shirt collar with the force of it, threatening to untuck his shirt in the back. He was holding him in such a way that forced him into an unnaturally straight posture, nearly standing on tip-toe to make up for their height difference. They entered the hangar, the lights coming on all at once. Robotnik steered them off to the left.
Oh, fuck, Stone thought, Oh, no.
He was guiding him directly to the shower. Simultaneously, the blood drained from Stone’s face and his cock grew hard. He knew the two were independent sensations, but he couldn’t help but imagine they were linked, all the blood in his body rushing from one place to pool in another.
Oh my god, Stone thought, eyes darting rapidly from edge to edge of his periphery, What are you gonna do to me?
He closed his eyes tightly as Robotnik forced him over the threshold with barely any pressure applied. When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the familiar lurid red and black tiles, just as saturated as when he imagined them in his fantasies.
Robotnik didn’t hesitate. He walked Stone over to the singular sink, hand still gripping his jacket collar. He pushed him forward. Stone winced as his hips pressed against the cold flat front of the sink. His cock throbbed. Robotnik stood behind him, still scruffing him, eyes boring into his via the singular mirror. Several seconds passed in silence. Stone could hear his heart thundering. He swallowed with difficulty, as though Robotnik’s hand were around his neck, restricting his airflow.
“Agent Stone, it is my understanding that there is a common remedy among those with parents and families for this sort of behavior,” Robotnik said.
With his free hand, he reached past Stone and turned on the sink faucet.
Oh god, Stone thought.
“Perhaps someone should’ve done this to you a long time ago,” Robotnik said coolly.
While Stone stood frozen with the realization of what was to come, Robotnik began enacting it. He pushed his head down by the back of his neck toward the running water. He pressed the heel of his other hand roughly against the soap dispenser several times. Stone registered the source of the harsh plasticky sound and struggled, going still instinctually when Robotnik’s grip tightened on his neck. Face in the sink, the sound of the water echoed around him like a torrent.
When Robotnik’s gloved fingers came into view, black cloth and silvery plastic saturated and glistening with semi-opaque white liquid soap, Stone’s body made one last futile attempt to wrench itself away.
“Open your mouth,” Robotnik said above the sound of running water.
Stone hesitated for no more than a second.
“Open your mouth!” Robotnik said more forcefully.
Stone winced, closing his eyes and opening his mouth. Immediately, two of Robotnik’s fingers pressed hard against his tongue, nauseatingly slick with an surfeit of soap. The acrid taste made Stone gag instantly, causing him to buck against Robotnik’s grip. In retaliation, Robotnik pushed his head down harder.
Stone’s tongue attempted to force Robotnik’s fingers out of his mouth, sliding impotently against the slick plastic of his fingertips. Stone’s chest pressed against the edge of the sink now, his hands braced on the sides as though his legs might give out. He leaned forward just enough to catch a small amount of water from the faucet in his mouth, but it only thinned the soap, spreading it across his palate. He gagged again.
He bucked harder, finding the taste now inescapable, his body reactive with panic, as though part of him were convinced he might drown. As he did so, he pressed back sharply against Robotnik’s hips. He pulled forward again. On the second spasmodic escape motion, Stone made contact with nothing, Robotnik having easily sidestepped him once again, moving out of his radius of motion.
“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before talking back to me, Agent,” Robotnik growled, not far from his ear, causing Stone to lurch.
His fingers pressed further into his mouth, back to the base of his tongue, pressing hard. Stone retched, body rearing back before pitching forward into the sink, He felt water splash down the front of his shirt. He coughed, a deep, painful sensation, trying to keep himself from vomiting. Robotnik dragged his fingers back out of his mouth and stepped back, away from him.
Stone coughed so hard that his ribs ached, unable to stop. He buried his face in the sink, head turned toward the stream of water, drinking greedily before spitting back into the basin. After several rinses, he still felt the sickly film on his tongue, his mouth, throat, and sinuses all seeming to ache from the bitterness. His face burned with embarrassment.
When he finally pushed himself up from the sink, palms still bracing, beard dripping wet, Robotnik stood behind him calmly, hands behind his back, watching the aftermath unfold. Stone visibly shuddered as another bitter wave assaulted his tastebuds, returning to the sink in a rushed supplicating bow.
Stone coughed and spat for what felt like ages, finally standing up, catching his breath. He looked at his reflection in shame, his eyes red, his shirtfront soaked. Over the lip of the sink, he could see the bulge of his hard cock just slightly. Robotnik moved into his space wordlessly, splaying his fingers, strands of soap webbing between them.
“Think of this next time you order soap,” Robotnik hissed.
He passed his one hand under the still-running water, rubbing his fingers into his palm to rinse some of the soap away. With his other hand, he turned off the water. He turned and began walking to the door, no waiting, no hesitation. Stone watched as he removed both gloves, tossing them into the canvas bin where he left his coveralls after servicing the maintenance pit.
“Thirty-minute cooldown,” Robotnik instructed, “Now.”
Stone followed him, head slightly bowed in contrition. Unbeknownst to Robotnik, though, this has a pleasant dual-effect, allowing Stone an unobscured view of his bare hands swinging slightly at his sides. He’d never seen them before. He marveled at his long fingers, his fair skin shocking against the black fabric of his coat.
Is this my reward, Stone wondered.
He walked behind Robotnik, careful not to get too close, the bitterness on his palate causing him to drool. He imagined soap foam dribbling down his chin.
Fuck, Stone thought, swallowing down a mouthful of saliva, unable to tear his eyes from Robotnik’s hands, That’s it. I’ve been reduced to a rabid animal.
He wiped his chin self-consciously, relieved to find no froth on the back of his hand.
When they returned to the lab, he stood aimlessly for a moment, unsure what to do with himself.
“Doctor,” he began timidly, “should I go grab my laptop, or-”
“Sit,” Robotnik said firmly, pointing across to the small desk that now lived up against the wall, “Think about what you’ve done.”
“Yes, sir,” Stone said.
He walked over to the desk, pulled out the chair, and sat. The lab was cold, worsening the feeling of wet cloth against his skin. He looked down at himself. Though his clothes were black, the saturation was still apparent. His necktie and lapels were wet. The chest area of his shirt was wet, having soaked through to his undershirt and trickled down to his stomach. His nipples were hard.
Washed my fucking mouth out with soap, Stone thought in disbelief.
Though it had just happened, it came back in third-person flashes: Robotnik grabbing him by the collar and leading him to the hangar before pushing his face down into the sink.
That was so awful, Stone thought, squirming in his seat subtly, but so hot.
As he swallowed, an unpleasant tasted flickered over his tongue, soap dislodging itself from between his teeth. He was sure that wouldn’t be the last time he tasted it that day. He thought of Robotnik’s hands, the way he’d gripped his neck and collar, the way his fingers felt in his mouth, dragging across the surface of his tongue.
Wish it was your cock, he thought, but I’ll take it.
He thought of his current predicament, once again shocked by the brazen nature of it all.
It was obvious that I was hard, Stone said, face hot with embarrassment, You knew I was hard. That’s why you put me in timeout. Fuck.
He thought of Robotnik’s cool, piercing look reflected in the mirror as he stood behind him, emanating a dangerous sort of calmness that communicated one thing: that he would do it again, if necessary.
You know exactly what you’re doing to me, Stone thought, swallowing hard, collar against his Adam’s apple, and that makes it even hotter. I’m done for.
His knees pressed together when he thought of the viscous threads of pearly liquid soap connecting Robotnik’s fingers in the harsh light of the hangar bathroom. Black. White. Red all over. His stomach turned in a way that was mostly pleasant.
That was… So not necessary, Stone thought, heartbeat pounding in his temples, You did that on purpose. You knew what it looked like.
Think of this next time you order soap.
Stone knew that he’d have to place a supply order later that week. He shifted in his seat. Finally, he thought of the cavalier way Robotnik had slipped his gloves off and tossed them into the laundering bin. Though he hadn’t gotten the best look, he committed what he did know to memory – long fingers, prominent knuckles, pale palms. He wondered what his bare fingers would feel like around his neck, in his mouth.
Okay, okay, Stone thought, Stop it.
His cock was still hard, straining against the fly of his slacks. He shifted subtly in his seat again. He dared to glance out of his periphery, able to see that Robotnik was back at work, not looking at him, and that must have pulled a fresh pair of gloves from one of his drawers.
Stone was careful to keep his posture neutral all the while, back straight, palms flat on the desk where Robotnik could see them, giving the appearance of staring straight ahead and considering his actions. He spent the remaining twenty-five minutes of his mandatory cooldown period quiet and still. He resisted his body’s urges to distract himself with movement – tapping his feet, bouncing his ankle, drumming his fingers on the desk – knowing Robotnik would certainly be disturbed by them.
I can’t afford another punishment today, he told himself.
For a time, he focused on the unpleasant aspects of the experience in an effort to curb his arousal, likening the whole thing to waterboarding, remembering the sharp taste of soap that coated his palate, remembering the tightness in his body as he retched and gagged. He glanced down into his lap spitefully when it didn’t work.
Finally, he allowed his mind to go as blank as it possibly could. When the thoughts began to creep back in, he made sure they were as bland as possible. He thought of the emails he needed to send when he returned to his office. He thought of the recycling he needed to take downstairs once he got home. Finally, slowly and uncomfortably, his arousal waned and his cock went soft, leaving his body in a state of unresolved tension for the rest of the workday, the occasional whisper of soap returning to his mouth.
In the weeks ahead, task ran the gamut, beginning to blur the line between standard and sexual. Stone was made to clean the maintenance pit without the air conditioning on. By the end of it, his coveralls were tied around his waist, relieved to catch any grimy backspray from the pressure washer on his overheated skin. He zipped back up when he reported to Robotnik. He was given a cooldown after. Two weeks later, he was made to work an entire day in the lab without sitting, being made to ask permission before he made any mundane move.
“Doctor, may I use the bathroom?” he asked.
“You have ninety seconds,” Robotnik replied.
Stone gaped at him a moment, still.
“Go,” Robotnik said firmly, glancing down at his watch, “Your clock is ticking.”
Stone broke into a jog that turned into a run as soon as he stepped out of the lab. He pelted down the hallway and into the staff bathroom. He was already panting, surprised to find himself in this one-sided race against time.
My clock is ticking, he thought, You have no idea.
He did everything in fast motion – zipping up dangerously fast at the urinal, washing his hands, eschewing the dryer on his way out in favor of flicking the water droplets off his hands as he ran back toward the lab. He was breathing heavy, steps only slowing as he approached the console.
“Over time,” Robotnik said, already engrossed back in his work, “That’s minus five seconds on your next trip.”
He winced.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
While that task had started as irritating, Stone found himself surprisingly turned-on by the afternoon, realizing it was all an exercise in control. At the end of the day, Stone reached back behind his neck to unbuckle his collar, freezing when he realized he’d forgotten to ask permission out of their usual unspoken habit.
“Doctor,” he began, “can I take this off?”
“Not yet,” Robotnik said with the faintest look of approval.
Stone was reward with a crawling shock, voltage gradually climbing to maximum intensity before plummeting into a few dramatic pulses, the sharp peaks causing his eyes to roll back. He braced himself on the doorframe to help in his body’s sudden transition from stiff to limp. He managed one quiet laugh before his second approach.
“May I take it off now, Doctor?” he asked.
“You may,” Robotnik replied with a grin, turning back toward his screens.
By the evening, Stone’s back was stiff from bending to work at the low desk, but the rest of him sang with pleasant electricity. He sighed as he stood under the hot spray of his shower.
“You’re really working me,” he said with a laugh.
More strange tasks worked their way in and out of the repertoire. Robotnik had him organize screws and washers blindfolded, merciful enough to only select two sizes of each, though they were near-indistinguishable.
I don’t know what skills you’re trying to hone here, Stone thought, if any.
His time limits for standard tasks grew shorter, filling him with adrenaline that never failed to earn him a cooldown after. There were more days of endless permissions. Days where he was instructed to never make eye contact. Days where he was instructed not to speak. Once he was even thoroughly debased during a simple coffee delivery.
“On your knees,” Robotnik said simply.
Stone was aghast at the calmly-delivered instruction. He got on his knees. Instead of risking spillage by placing the coffee up on the console, he instead offered it directly to Robotnik, holding it in two hands. He was sure his eyes must have been unintentionally pleading when he looked down at him.
“Your coffee, sir,” he said.
Robotnik took it from him, eyes lingering on his face a moment before going back to his work. Stone watched him, two fingertips playing in the palm of his free hand, as though considering rewarding him before ultimately deciding against it.
“Get up,” Robotnik said, “You’re dismissed.”
Stone was shocked he hadn’t been put in timeout after, instead left to his own devices. He cleaned up the staff kitchen and returned to his office, forcing himself back to work, not daring to acknowledge his arousal in the slightest. The whole time, his heart raced, his body aching with incompletion, yearning for electricity. He felt pangs of shame, realizing how little it took to rile him and how right it had felt to be on his knees before his boss. That night, he came facedown on his bed, plug in his hole, electrodes on his skin, knees digging into the mattress.
The next time he was underneath the console, Robotnik’s calf across his back, something unexpected occurred. The meeting had ended after scarcely twenty minutes. Robotnik placed both feet on the ground. Stone closed his laptop, readying himself to crawl out from underneath the desk, but Robotnik made no move to push his chair out.
“Agent Stone,” he said, voice faraway above the console, “do you notice anything different down there?”
Stone’s entire body tightened. He looked around for anything that had changed since he’d last been underneath the console on all fours, but nothing stood out. Robotnik’s waiting silence unnerved him.
“No, sir,” Stone replied, bracing for disappointment.
Instead, he heard Robotnik shift in his chair. His left foot slid toward Stone. He lifted it off the ground in Stone’s presumed line of sight, toe pointed performatively. Stone squinted in the dim light, wishing his computer screen were still open.
“Oh,” he said a beat later with certainty, “your shoes need a shine.”
“Precisely,” Robotnik replied.
Stone was about to offer, but remembered the results of his last shoe shine. He held back. Robotnik waited several heavy, purposeful seconds before continuing.
“Your shoeshine skills are exemplary,” he said, causing Stone to squirm, “aside from your – how shall I put this? – lack of self-control.”
Stone swallowed hard, bowing his head, feeling the bifurcated burn of embarrassment and arousal.
“You cannot be trusted with my shoes unsupervised,” Robotnik continued, “Therefore, I’ll be supervising you this time.”
“Excellent idea, sir,” Stone said quietly, “When would you like me to do it?”
Robotnik finally rolled his chair back, allowing Stone to crawl out from underneath the console.
“Now,” he said simply, pointing to the desk against the wall.
Stone had been so preoccupied on his way in, mind buzzing with thoughts of sweet degradation, that he hadn’t noticed the small box on the work surface. His eyes asked wordless questions up at Robotnik, who regarded him almost neutrally, aside from the clever glimmer in his dark eyes.
“Bring the box here,” he said.
Stone stood up, walking to the desk with his laptop beneath his arm.
Oh, fuck, he thought, There’s no way.
He set his laptop down in favor of the box, turning and walking back toward Robotnik. He paused a few feet from where he was still sitting. The silence stretched between them.
“Go on,” Robotnik finally said, nodding down at the floor.
Stone prepared himself quickly, careful to keep his mask of professionalism in place.
“For the time, I’ll work here,” Robotnik continued, “in order to afford you proper lighting for the job.”
Stone walked between his seated form and the console. He knelt slowly before sitting, setting the box of supplies next to him. He willed his words to come out steady.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he replied, “Much appreciated.”
Stone quickly appraised the contents of the box, finding all the familiar implements along with a plain black hand towel. Intuitively, he knew what it was for. He repositioned, folding one leg underneath himself, draping he towel over his knee. He glanced up at Robotnik, who was working, hands suspended in midair controlling the holoscreens. Their eyes never met as Robotnik’s foot came to rest on Stone’s knee, the towel protecting his pants leg.
Gracious of you, Stone thought.
He decided that he should treat each shoe separately, start to finish, rather than have Robotnik switch his feet back and forth. He started with a soft brush, buffing away any dirt or dust. He got to work rubbing in the leather conditioner with a soft cloth, still focusing on the toe crease and the heel support, but careful not to press too hard or rub too vigorously, periodically having to remind himself that the shoes were not empty this time around.
This is practically a foot massage, he thought, face hot, studiously keeping his head bowed.
Robotnik’s brogue looked every bit the eleven and a half that Stone knew it to be as it rested on his thigh. While he applied the polish, he stole stealthy glances up at him. He was surprised by Robotnik’s relaxed body language, in his familiar posture, hands sweeping through the air like he was conducting a silent symphony orchestra. His foot rested on Stone’s thigh with no undue pressure. He sprayed on a careful coat of water protectant, shielding Robotnik’s pant leg with his hand.
“Doctor,” he said quietly, reluctant to interrupt his work, “your other foot, please?”
Without acknowledgement, Robotnik switched his right for his left, allowing Stone to start the whole process again. Stone brushed off the shoe and began to work in the conditioner with care while his mind raced.
You know this turns me on, he thought, very aware of his cock calling for attention to the rhythm of his heart.
He didn’t dare look down into his lap, knowing that his current state would be obvious even at a passing glance. He was already foreseeing the mandatory cooldown. He wondered if he’d get extra time added for having endured a meeting under the console beforehand. His eyes bored into Robotnik’s socked ankle, bony protuberances visible through the thin black fabric. Stone felt the urge to grab him, to wrap his hand around his ankle to see if his fingers would touch around the circumference of it. He knew that would earn him a swift punishment. Instead, he shielded his ankle from sight with his own palm while he sprayed on the protectant.
“Switch, please,” Stone said quietly.
He buffed out any remaining protectant spray on the first shoe, running the cloth around the prominent edge of the sole. He waited several minutes like that, not wanting to request any undue movement while the other shoe dried. Stone tried to rein in his thoughts, but he found it impossible.
On my knees.
On my knees like a dog.
On my knees like your servant.
Looking up at you like a god.
Fuck, I’m so hard I can hardly think straight.
He cleared his throat.
“Other shoe, please, Doctor,” he said.
Again, Robotnik shifted one foot off his thigh, leisurely replacing it with the other. Stone drew a long, slow breath as the even weight of it settled on his leg. He buffed in the remaining protectant with the soft cloth, taking his time, not wanting this task to end.
This is so fucking hot, he thought, now dreading the ensuing cooldown.
He wasn’t sure how he’d ever talk himself out of his current erection. He drew the task out as long as he could, knowing that if he took too long, it would be addressed in no uncertain terms. While he waited, he packed the polishing implements back into the box. He was careful to keep his movements small and subtle, not wanting to disturb Robotnik while he worked.
“You’re all set, sir,” he said.
Robotnik appeared to finish the thought he was typing in thin air before looking down, not at Stone, but at his shoes. He surveyed them carefully, shifting the one that still rested on Stone’s thigh to assess how the newly-polished surface caught the light. He appeared ready to give a sparse commendation until his eyes strayed.
Oh, fuck, Stone thought, chest tightening, breath halting, He knows.
Robotnik narrowed his eyes. Stone managed to breathe. He’d known that Robotnik knew about his proclivities, that he was turned on by some of the tasks that were assigned to him, hence the cooldown periods. Something about this direct stare, though, filled him with dread.
“So,” Robotnik said slowly, “supervision has curbed the symptom, but not the underlying cause.”
Stone’s face was hot, a mortified blush slowly spreading over his neck, past his collar, to his ears. He bowed his head slightly. The confrontation was doing nothing to minimize his arousal. He resigned himself to his fate.
“Today’s mandatory cooldown is cancelled,” Robotnik said, causing Stone to open his eyes wide in surprise, “in favor of another exercise.”
“Yes, sir,” Stone said, feeling the need to acknowledge him.
“If meditative solitude and close supervision can’t break your little habit of workday perversions,” Robotnik said, eyes flashing, “I’ll just grind it out of you myself.”
Stone drew a sharp, audible breath. Without thinking, his knees spread apart by a few inches. Robotnik shook his head, fueling his shame. Robotnik’s hands rested on his own knees. He leaned forward in his chair, fixing Stone with a glare of quiet fury. Stone had never felt so small in his entire life.
“Lie down underneath the console,” Robotnik said firmly.
“What?!” Stone gasped.
“Lie down. Under the console. Agent Stone.” he said voice cold and sharp.
Stone stared up at him in awe and fear, a monument to science, a god of creation and electricity, his personal jailer, and the source of all his deepest fantasies.
“The last time I allowed you to shine my shoes, I found you humping them like a dog,” Robotnik said, “We’re going to have a full-circle moment, you and I. You’re going to lie down underneath my console. I am going to apply pressure with my foot. You will hold completely still and be completely silent. You will associate my shoes with discomfort. You will break your deviant little habit, Agent Stone.”
Stone wasn’t sure if he was flushed hot or if the color had drained from his face. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he felt nauseated, having broken out in a nervous sweat. Robotnik leaned down further to speak to him directly.
“It will be painful. This is an important exercise in association. We’re going to rewire the misdirected pathways in that excuse for a brain rattling around in your skull,” Robotnik said, eyes boring into Stone’s with cold, domineering certainty, “Either that, or I’ll have to neuter you to stop your humping habit.”
Stone drew an unintentionally loud breath, unaware that at some point, he’d stopped breathing. He nodded, almost hypnotized.
“Understood?” Robotnik asked, voice dangerously low.
“Yes, Doctor,” he replied, “Understood.”
“Now,” Robotnik said, calm giving way to fierceness, “Down!”
Stone removed the towel from his thigh and draped it over the box of polishing tools before pushing it aside. He scooted himself backward inelegantly until his face was blessedly shielded by the console. He waited, his whole body tense, staring up at the underside of the work surface.
He’s gonna step on me, he thought, accepting his fate, and I’m gonna like it.
He heard the rolling casters of Robotnik’s chair moving smoothly across the floor. In his lower peripheral vision, he could see his shadow blotting out the light. He laid still, disbelief settling over him as he grappled with the situation at hand.
This isn’t going to work, Stone thought, absolutely certain, Oh my god. He really thinks this is going to fix me. Fuck. What am I gonna do?
Without a verbal warning, Robotnik’s foot nudged Stone’s thighs further apart. Stone closed his eyes tightly as the sole of his shoe came to rest over the fly of his slacks, slowly lowering, pressing his zipper into his cock. He moved his foot forward slightly, his heel pressing into his balls, nudging them closer to his body. The toe of his shoe applied pressure until Stone winced and hissed.
“How’s that, Agent?” Robotnik asked.
“Painful, sir,” Stone replied, voice sounding strangled.
Robotnik made an affirmative sound and shifted in his chair, settling back in to work. He heard Stone suck in a pained breath as his foot moved subtly. Within seconds, he was engrossed in his work again, brows knitted in concentration. Stone laid very still, spiraling silently as he stared blankly up at the spotless underside of the console. His hands were joined over his stomach, fingers tightly interwoven to give himself another bodily sensation to focus on.
Fuck, he thought, How long is this going to go on for?
While he hadn’t ever thought of Robotnik stepping on him before, he, unsurprisingly, found that he was enjoying it. Of course, that realtime enjoyment filled him with concern, wishing this had been relegated to a bedroom fantasy first to at least allow him time to prepare. Robotnik’s foot pressed a little harder, causing his insides to squirm. His cock throbbed against the hard sole of his shoe.
This is so fucking hot.
Oh, no.
What if I stay hard the whole time?
He closed his eyes and steadied himself, attempting to clear his mind completely. He’d done this during interrogations and hostage scenarios before, willfully relaxing his body and strategically breathing through the pain. He prided himself in being able to stay even-keel in even the most alarming of scenarios. He felt a flicker of determination light somewhere within him.
If I can do this with a gun to my head, I can do it with his foot on my dick.
Robotnik, meanwhile, was typing rapidly, eyes only half-focused on the screen as the words filled the digital page. He was working hard at a new proposal for a one-person stealth aircraft, a solution he’d devised to a perceived - not communicated - military shortcoming.
The purpose of this aircraft, with its robust cloaking capabilities, is principally surveillance and reconnaissance. It is outfitted with several high-resolution cameras, equipped with night vision, heat sensory, and telescopic zoom.
“Oh-”
This sound had come from beneath the console. His eyes flicked away from the screen briefly, but he quickly continued his stream of thought.
That said, it can also be utilized in small-scale, targeted air strikes, with space for two smaller attack drones and at least one sizable mortar. It is important to keep the relative payload light so the craft remains quick and agile.
He paused, tapping the thumb pad of his glove on the table, creating a soft, rhythmic click. The sound of breathing had distracted him, Stone unconsciously making his presence known. Robotnik pinched the bridge of his nose before carrying on.
The aircraft operator will be suitably protected, outfitted with automatic evasion technology, several screens displaying a 360-degree field of vision, and, in the unlikely event that all of these fail entirely due to operator error, a parachute.
He felt a subtle movement beneath his foot, one that may not have been intentional or premeditated. His eyes scanned back up to the beginning of the paragraph, frustrated that he’d lost his place. He started from the top. Again, partway through, another shifting movement broke his concentration.
Robotnik’s palm dropped onto the surface of the console with an audible thud. His foot was inclined at a near-forty-five degree angle. He pressed down with his toe as though he were easing onto the gas pedal after a traffic light had changed from red to green. Beneath his foot, he felt a firm, fleshy give. He pressed a little harder. He heard a strangled breath, felt shifting beneath his sole.
“Agent Stone,” he said firmly, “I am trying to work. You are currently in direct opposition to your very simple instructions. Stop making yourself a distraction.”
He tapped the palm pad of his glove, administering a blink-of-an-eye shock. He heard a strangled, soft cry and felt an abrupt jolt beneath his foot.
“Sorry, Doctor,” came his voice from beneath the console.
Everything went still and quiet again. Robotnik continued typing.
Among the many benefits of this model is its size. It’s a small aircraft, which can, ostensibly be carried into a desired area via a standard semi tractor trailer. It can be carried by aircraft carrier, of course, but with its proprietary vertical lift propulsion technology, this would be a waste, as the aircraft does not require a runway for takeoff.
Again, a movement beneath his foot. His jaw tightened, irritation building quickly.
Agent Stone, he thought ruefully, Your instructions are so simple.
Stone was fighting a losing battle beneath the console. The shock had the exact opposite effect to what he presumed had been intended. It had just been the briefest little bristle of electricity, a warning tap, but his arousal, just starting to slightly wane with his purposefully blank mind, had surged back to life. The increased pressure of Robotnik’s foot walked his favorite line between pleasure and pain.
I’m fucked, he thought, lying still, sweating, I’m absolutely fucked.
Robotnik continued typing, using the moment of stillness to its fullest.
Given its hybrid fueling, low energy consumption, and internal power core, the aircraft could easily be flown into inhospitable terrain, completely removing the necessity of a cumbersome, obvious escort.
A more purposeful movement, a decided press against his sole, caused Robotnik to pause again. He pushed himself back from the console just enough to look beneath it. Stone lie on his back on the floor. He lifted his head slightly, his face painted with obvious shame.
“Agent Stone,” Robotnik said severely, giving him his best furious glower.
“Yes, Doctor?” Stone asked, lifting his head.
He was obviously flushed; Robotnik could see it even in the shadow of the console. His necktie had been loosened, jacket unbuttoned since he’d seen him last, likely in a vain attempt to make himself more comfortable. Robotnik allowed his gaze to linger until he thought Stone was thoroughly chastened.
“Stop squirming,” he said curtly.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Stone said.
Robotnik rolled his eyes, already tired of his fruitless apologies.
“How am I supposed to concentrate if you keep moving?” he snapped, “You have one job. Lie there, quiet and still. Remember?”
Stone let his head fall back onto the cool floor, gritting his teeth through another short, weak shock, body tensing all over. This was paired with Robotnik’s foot easing forward again, making Stone’s eyes water before he backed off to his prior position. His cock twitched. He winced. He tightened his interlaced grip on his own fingers, fingernails pressing into his palms in a vain attempt at physical distraction.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Don’t disappoint me,” Robotnik replied coolly.
Stone heard the roll of the chair’s casters as Robotnik pulled himself back up to his worktop. The pressure on his aching cock didn’t change. He drew a shuddering breath and held still. Above him, he could hear Robotnik typing away. As Robotnik settled into focus once more, he drew his other foot up from the ground, resting his ankle on his knee. The pressure increased noticeably from the extra weight. Stone’s eyes closed tightly.
Robotnik was quietly fuming. He’d expected Stone to cave by now, to beg, to whimper, to learn his lesson, crawl out from under the console, and sit quietly in his shame at his useless little desk. He knew that there were obviously some dubious connections in his mind related to punishment. He’d thought the application of a different sort of pain might redirect some of those associations. He reminded himself that from his perspective, this was an experiment, and that sometimes, even variables and trial is devised by someone of his own intellectual caliber didn’t go exactly to plan.
You’re a tough nut to crack, Agent Stone, he thought, pressing his heel harder against his scrotum, feeling his thighs tighten around his foot before loosening again with a distinct tremble, but I will crack you eventually.
Stone could tell when Robotnik got into the rhythm of his work, his raised foot bobbing evenly. The movement sent a faint rock into his other shoe. Stone inhaled sharply. His head was spinning. He’d been under the desk for a quarter of an hour at least, trying his best to keep quiet and still while Robotnik’s polished leather brogue bore down on him.
Oh my fucking god, Stone thought. I might not survive this.
His hands balled into fists subconsciously, lacking anything else substantial to grab onto. The typing continued overhead. He wasn’t sure how long he could last. He hoped Robotnik might reach a suitable stopping point soon, but he knew that when he got into the zone, he was apt to stay there. In that moment, he would’ve given anything for a cooldown instead.
Stone thought of his withering glance again, directed at him from above, face lit harshly in the overhead lighting. He thought of the short little bursts of electricity he was being fed, stoking his desire whether intended to or not. He thought of Robotnik’s shoe on his thigh, sitting at his feet while he worked. He thought of being caught a second time, of being given another opportunity just to squander it by getting hard. He felt as though his whole body tightened for several seconds before relaxing.
Stone’s eyes opened immediately. Robotnik had detected it. His foot stopped bouncing. The other foot inched forward, arch and instep pressing down on his cock, his heel applying pressure to his balls.
Fuck, please stop, Stone thought desperately, No, wait. Please don’t stop.
It all hit him at once. He’d gone from polishing Robotnik’s shoes to being pinned under them, an arch submissive fantasy. This hadn’t been his endgame, but the easy progression of it shocked Stone. He thought, as he laid there, succumbing to his fantasies, that if he could just get himself under control, this might become a regular punishment, too. Even though the present session hadn’t ended, he already looked forward to finding himself here again, lying underneath Robotnik while he worked, his foot in his lap, controlling whether he felt pleasure or pain.
Just then, he realized that the sound of typing had stopped. Stone raised his head slightly. Robotnik’s gloved hands rested on his knees. Stone froze. He wasn’t sure when, but his hips had started rocking of their own accord, rubbing himself against the sole of Robotnik’s shoe. He felt as though he’d been plunged into icy water.
“Agent. Stone.” Robotnik said, voice severe.
“Doctor,” he said, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”
Robotnik rolled his chair back, but he didn’t move his foot or look beneath the console. Stone kept his body still now, having gone rigid with tension. Robotnik’s foot pressed down gradually, increasing the pressure until it hovered steadily right at the edge of eye-watering pain. Stone felt the pressure of his cock against his pubic bone, felt his scrotum being pressed firmly against his body. He winced, mouth slightly open in a grimace of silent pain.
“I didn’t realize the depths of your perversion,” Robotnik hissed, voice clearer than before.
The pain had loosened Stone’s tongue. He spoke without thinking.
“Sir, if you knew I liked it,” he replied, “why did you think this would be an appropriate punishment?”
A quick sharp tap from Robotnik’s foot made Stone’s body jolt. His body reflexively tried to roll onto its side to a protective fetal position, but relented when Robotnik’s foot remained in place. He was aware that he’d made a very unprofessional sound, but at this point, knew it couldn’t be helped.
“Fuck!” he whined.
Despite the aching pleasure, he would’ve done anything now to end this moment, wishing he’d just controlled himself and laid still under the console.
“I’d wash your mouth out again, but I fear you’d find that enjoyable, too,” Robotnik growled.
Stone knew the unfamiliar fiery frustration building in his voice. He’d heard it a very few times before, always in the rare instances when Robotnik’s plans weren’t working out to their desired ends. For a brief second, he took pride and ownership in being a problem that even the world’s premiere genius couldn’t fix.
“It seems, really, that you’ve come to take pleasure in nearly every punishment I’ve routed in your direction,” he continued, “save for being completely ignored.”
Stone’s hands clenched, burying themselves in the front of his suit jacket.
“Please,” he whispered, “not that.”
Robotnik continued on as though he hadn’t spoken at all.
“You seem bound and determined, hellbent, even, to be a continual thorn in my side,” Robotnik continued, “Constantly reminding me that humans are infuriatingly unpredictable, reminding me why I prefer my machines.”
Stone ground against his sole again without thinking, his body moving of its own accord. The humiliation was too delicious. Robotnik’s foot eased back before applying more pressure. Stone planted both feet on the ground, knees bent. He groaned quietly, trying not to arch his back into the weight of his sole.
If you keep this up, I’ll cum, Stone thought, drowning in a mix of pleasure and dread.
“In short, you’re always underfoot, Agent,” Robotnik sneered.
Stone winced, placing both palms flat on the floor, fingers resisting the surface as he dragged them across it with a barely-audible shrill squeak. He knew he couldn’t resist and he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t pretend this wasn’t an extremely arousing situation. He gave in, hoping for another punishment and a lengthy cooldown, those being the best possible outcomes now from his point of view. He’d take anything but another freeze out.
“I like it, Doctor,” Stone said, businesslike, “I like what you do to me and you know it. I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
He knew it was an earthshaking admission, something known but unspoken that now couldn’t be revoked. He couldn’t feel the gravity of it over Robotnik’s rigid instep pressing down on him. He was bordering on delirium and numbness, over-sensitized.
“You insolent little cretin!” Robotnik spat, “Revolting. I’d expect this behavior from plenty of people in government work, but I’m surprised by your brazenness, Agent. If you don’t pull yourself together-”
Robotnik raved on, Stone staring up at the bottom of the console dreamily, losing focus as his foot shifted unevenly with his jagged words. His admission had lifted a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. He was content to lie there, being shouted at, being stepped on, for as long as it took. He’d stay hard the rest of the day if it meant more of this before a cooldown. He nodded along, Robotnik’s insults blending together as his eyes followed the elegant line of Robotnik’s ankle, up his leg. He tuned back into his voice again.
“I should end this experiment right now!” he shouted, “All I’ve learned is that you’re a-”
As his gaze floated upward, Stone’s eyes opened wide. He couldn’t stop himself from interrupting Robotnik’s ongoing tirade.
“Sir, respectfully,” Stone said, voice cloudy with arousal and disbelief, “are you hard right now?”
Robotnik recoiled slightly, but held fast to his composure.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he sneered.
His eyes widened slightly when both of Stone’s hands gripped him, one nearly wrapping entirely around his ankle, the other around his calf. He began grinding against his sole again, eyes going half-lit. Robotnik wanted to administer a shock, but his fingers wouldn’t move. Stone’s indictment had left him breathless. He felt entirely laid bare, left unsure how to proceed with this massively unanticipated turn.
“Doctor,” Stone said, unseen beneath the console, “I’d like it to be my business.”
“Stone, you’re out of your mind,” Robotnik said, panic coming through in the quickness of his words.
“Yeah,” Stone said dreamily, pressing against the bottom of his foot unabashedly now.
Robotnik knew how to stop this. He knew all it would take would be to stand up and leave, to ignore him completely. Stone had made it clear that this was the most effective punishment as far as he was concerned. Robotnik knew this, but he couldn’t make himself act on it. His heart raced, causing his watch to beep at the unexpected cardiac activity. He silenced it with a shake of his hand.
It was a sickening feeling, losing one’s control in a split-second, a reversal that left Robotnik utterly shocked. He ran a gloved hand down his face, sensors blessedly cool. He hadn’t even realized that he’d become aroused.
All you have to do, he reminded himself, is send him out.
“Agent Stone-” he began.
He was reeling, nauseated by the realization that he’d effectively worked himself into a corner over recreational human research.
He will listen to you.
Send him out.
Send him out and disappear for the remainder of the week or longer.
Lock the lab. Put on your internal away message.
Show him that this behavior will be punished in the one way that he can’t find pleasure in.
“Doctor, let me suck your dick,” Stone said.
Robotnik gasped, forcibly wrenched from his fevered thoughts. He attempted to wheel himself backward, away from Stone, but his grip around his leg tightened, keeping him in place.
“Agent Stone, this is very brave,” he said, voice gravelly, “and very stupid.”
“Yeah, okay,” Stone replied, undeterred.
Again, the urge to shock, followed by the reminder that the shock was now the positive reinforcement Stone craved.
“I won’t tell anybody. You know that by now,” Stone said, “and we’ve already got… Whatever this is going on. I don’t really see how that’s so much worse.”
Robotnik sat frozen, looking down at what he could see of Stone, whose body rocked and roiled beneath his foot, jacket open, necktie askew. He really looked at him. He’d known Stone was deriving pleasure from their arrangement. It had interested him from a scientific standpoint at first, then from a sadistic standpoint, but quietly, a different sort of curiosity had begun to creep in.
“You like doing this to me,” Stone said.
He couldn’t deny it. He pushed the curiosity down in favor of suspicion. This wasn’t some coup or blackmail scheme. Stone could’ve easily tried either of those before now. He suspected it might be a bluff, or Stone prodding him for more punishment, purposefully agitating him. He considered administering an immense shock before dragging Stone out into the hallway by his shirt collar, commanding the doors to slam shut behind him. Right now, it didn’t have to be a satisfactory ending, it just had to be an ending.
“Why not make me choke on your cock, too?” Stone asked with a shrug, undeterred, still lying flat on the ground beneath him, “Pretty demeaning, I think.”
When several seconds of silence ensued, Stone slowly sat up. He eased himself out from underneath the console, pushing Robotnik’s chair back as he moved. He repositioned himself on his knees, Robotnik’s foot still pressing into his lap. Robotnik beheld him in full, the calm determination in his eyes that spoke in direct opposition to the flush that crept down his neck.
“You’re bluffing,” Robotnik said sternly.
“I’m not,” Stone replied.
He held Robotnik’s fierce gaze unwaveringly. Stone felt as though he must’ve gone out of his mind with this forward behavior, but it was too late to take any of it back. He was at his boss’s mercy now. Robotnik searched his face for any hint of doubt, any twinge of unsureness, but he found nothing.
“Prove it,” he said, still unsure whether he would.
Stone made a soft sound of surprise.
“If you want it, take it,” Robotnik repeated, “You were very brave a moment ago. Show me you mean it.”
Stone reached forward with one hand and rested it on the crotch of Robotnik’s slacks. He could feel that he was hard. He felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric. He felt as though he stood at a threshold separating everything that was from everything that would be, that his choices in the ensuing moments would throw open a door to an irrevocable new path that he couldn’t come back from.
“Go on,” Robotnik said, voice low, goading, “Go ahead, brave little agent.”
Stone parted his fly with his fingers and unzipped it with the other hand. Robotnik watched the individual teeth of his zipper separating, exposing his underwear beneath. He swallowed hard, hands clutching the armrests of his seat. He didn’t think Stone would do it. He thought that at any second, he would back off, apologize, grovel, thinking better of his brashness.
Stone’s other hand bravely cupped his hard cock, squeezing lightly before his fingers carefully found their way into the fly of his underwear, feeling for skin. With a careful, but sure touch, he freed Robotnik’s cock. Both of his hands moved to Robotnik’s thighs. He sat back, staring. He seemed to wear the look of someone who had zoned out on their commute, finding themselves at the destination with no recollection of how he got there. Robotnik was quite sure his must have looked similar.
There was another tense, loaded silence. Stone stared at Robotnik’s cock, flushed a deep pink against the sea of black fabric that was his seated form. His shaft stood straight and proud. Stone was transfixed by the shining smear of liquid across the slit at the tip. Robotnik looked at Stone with his expression of wonder and disbelief, unconsciously mirroring him.
Stone exhaled, the small gust of warmth making Robotnik shift in his seat. What he’d thought was a foolhardy bid for power had been a genuine – and successful – attempt at seduction. He nearly choked when Stone’s mouth closed around his cockhead, sucking hard. Immediately, he pushed himself back in his chair, body going rigid. One hand held Stone’s shoulder as though to push him away, the other on the back of his head, holding him still in a stark duality.
Stone whimpered when Robotnik’s foot eased off of him. He held his calf tightly in one hand, forcing his foot back down, desperately craving any friction he could be afforded. His other hand gripped the arm of Robotnik’s chair in an attempt to keep him there. He bobbed his head slowly, swallowing him down to the base before working his way slowly back up the shaft.
Robotnik’s grip was tight around the base of his skull. The press of the plastic sensors on his fingertips was a singular feeling, one that Stone had imagined countless times. The reality of it made his created scenarios pale in comparison.
Oh my god, he thought, I can’t believe-
Robotnik, meanwhile, was completely paralyzed by pleasure. Stone had begun to pick up speed, his mouth luridly wet, unspeakably warm. The back of Robotnik’s head was pressed back against the chair, as though he were being spun in a human centrifuge, mounting G-forces compressing his body, squeezing the air from his lungs. He was dizzy, looking down at Stone between his thighs.
As Robotnik’s thumb scraped across the back of his head, all Stone could think, with a sort of delirious triumph, was that he was glad he’d recently gotten a fresh haircut. He relaxed his throat, taking Robotnik deep into his mouth in time with the movement of his own hips against the sole of his shoe.
I can’t believe, he thought, that I know what you taste like now.
All of Robotnik’s fury and bravado had burned away. The part of his brain that was equipped with a shrieking alarm, signaling to him that this was impropriety of the highest degree, had been shut down completely. All that existed now was tension and suction and wet warmth and pleasure. He groaned, a sound that slipped between his gritted teeth, freeing itself from his tensed chest.
Stone looked up at him without stopping, body spasming lightly at the sight of him. Robotnik’s head was back, eyes clenched shut, teeth bared, wearing a look of a pleasure that must have been burning him alive. Stone whimpered softly, his mouth full. In that moment, Robotnik lifted his head from the backrest of his chair with great effort, hair falling out of place and into his eyes as he looked down at him.
Their eyes met and both tensed, as though a shock of pleasure consumed them both at once, or perhaps travelled from one to the other, unsure who it started with and who it ended with. Stone wrapped both arms around his calf, pulling him closer to his body while he humped his shoe in earnest. Robotnik hunched forward, holding Stone’s head with both hands, guiding him.
Fuck, Stone thought, Use me like that.
Robotnik’s thought process that formed his internal monologue had disappeared. Rather than thinking, his mind and body focused on sensation, on feeling. This was not a commonplace occurrence for him, but no part of him was cognizant enough to make him push Stone away, to stand up and end this. Instead, he brushed his thumbs over Stone’s temples, feeling his stubble against his sensors. Stone sucked harder, causing him to lift his hips slightly with a low rumble.
Stone looked up at him, eyes wide and he slowly pulled back, tongue pressed firmly against the underside of his shaft as he did so. Robotnik’s thighs buckled. In that moment, his body painfully tense but alight with pleasure, he thought that he might understood what Stone felt when he administered a shock. Stone swallowed him again, bobbing his head faster now, moving his hips and Robotnik’s foot in time, grasp on his ankle still tight.
Robotnik briefly regained control of himself, remembering Stone’s prior words.
Why not make me choke on your cock, too? Pretty demeaning, I think.
With both hands, he interrupted Stone’s rhythm, forearms trembling with effort as he forced his head down into his lap. He watched Stone’s shoulder’s raise before he heard the sound of him gagging, not entirely unlike when he’d washed his mouth out with soap. Robotnik did it once more, forcing his cock to the back of his throat. This time, Stone pulled back, freeing his mouth.
He looked up at Robotnik, desperate, panting, drooling, eyes wet. He held his gaze there for a moment, breaking into a slow, satisfied smile that made Robotnik’s knees lock, a look so full of obvious pleasure that he could barely continue to look at him. It was a knowing grin that showed a little teeth, the sort that established ownership in their power dynamic, showing that it could be shifted in play. Stone closed his eyes and lowered his head, looking back up at Robotnik now, submissive again as he lapped at his cockhead, licking from the underside up to his slit before moving his head back and forth slowly, tongue slicking him before he closed his mouth around him again.
Robotnik’s hands dragged back through his hair before settling again, one on the back of his neck, the other on the armrest of his chair. Stone hummed contentedly, a sound that Robotnik felt reverberate through him. Both knew they wouldn’t last long. Stone’s trembling hands unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, leaving just the thin barrier of his underwear, already wet with precum and hot with friction, between himself and the sole of Robotnik’s shoe.
Robotnik chose to reciprocate. He worked his foot back and forth, able to feel the shape of Stone’s shaft more clearly through the single layer of cloth. Stone wrapped his arm around his calf, hugging it to his body, groaning, brows knitting. His moved his hips more subtly now, meeting Robotnik’s movements. He reached up with one hand, wrapping it around the base of Robotnik’s shaft, sucking and stroking him simultaneously. Robotnik’s hips jerked forward.
You like that, Stone thought.
When Robotnik looked down at him, eyes wild, Stone opened his mouth, dragging his cockhead along his tongue while he stroked him.
“Fuck,” Robotnik gritted, shoulders crumpling inward, his free hand pressing to his chest as though to shield himself.
Stone watched as he slowly balled that fist, body rigid with apparent tension. He wished he’d do it, that he’d press the button and hit him with shock that would send him careening into oblivion, but he was relieved when his palm unfolded with effort. Stone’s hand pressed down onto the warm leather of his brogue, forcing his foot down by the arch, grinding against him furiously, face desperate with want.
“I’m-” Robotnik began.
Stone was suffused with a new sort of electricity when he looked up at him. He’d never seen Robotnik like this before - helpless, needy, out of control in a way that looked enjoyable and debauched, eyes wide with seeming panic but clouded by physical stimulation. He threw his head back, hair loose, neck tensed. Stone squeezed the base of his cock harder, causing Robotnik to grip his shoulder and squeeze, urging him.
“Yeah,” Stone agreed, pulling his cock from his mouth for the second time since they’d started, “Me, too.”
He nodded before swallowing him again. After only a few more strokes, Robotnik’s hips lifted from the chair, pulling Stone’s head back and away while his hand still stroked him. He felt the resistance in Stone’s neck muscles give. His mouth now free, Stone was breathless, humping Robotnik’s foot hard and fast, holding his rigid sole against his cock, his underwear damp.
”Listen to me, Stone,” he said tensely, short of breath.
That was the first time he’d called him that. Stone. Not Agent Stone. Not Agent. Just Stone. Stone almost swooned, but kept himself together. In the absence of his mouth, he stroked Robotnik at the same pace, his skin hot and slick.
“Don’t you dare stop what you’re doing,” Robotnik said, hands trembling wildly.
It was a helpless threat, perhaps an attempt to reestablish control. Stone wouldn’t have dreamed of it, anyway.
“I won’t,” he managed.
Stone’s short hair slipped through Robotnik’s fingers, so instead, he reached for his collar, holding him at arm’s length. Stone watched his Robotnik fucked his hand, holding him tightly, his drool shining in the overhead lights like lube. It was so out-of-character, his uncalculated carnal movements. Stone was transfixed.
When Robotnik slipped a finger under his collar and pulled him backward, Stone came, eyes rolling back as he crushed Robotnik’s foot over his throbbing dick. He was sure his hand lost its cadence somewhere briefly in the ecstasy, but within a few strokes, he felt Robotnik’s body spasm, pitching forward with a broken moan.
For an endless, spiraling moment, both were locked in their strange contorted embrace, riding out the harsh peaks of their climaxes, Stone on his knees, Robotnik hunched forward in his chair. When the tense stillness broke, Robotnik let go of Stone’s collar, collapsing backward, drained and dizzy. Stone nearly fell backward, too, catching himself with one unsteady hand. For several seconds, the two of them were very still, recovering from their exertion and barely keeping their heads above the rising tide of pleasure and disbelief.
Stone was ready to move first, conditioned from so many months of forcing himself up after a shock, body still reeling. He took in the scene before him. Robotnik’s head was back, breathing in soft but audible wheezes, both hands hang limply off the armrests of his chair. His legs were inelegantly splayed, cock going soft against the black of his trousers, the only bit of skin visible other than his face.
Stone’s eyes moved down his body to see the aftermath – a few droplets of cum on his knee, most of it having landed on the floor and across the toe of his right shoe. Stone looked down at himself next, knowing that was the shoe he’d been frotting against. Sure enough, a spatter of cum had landed on his necktie. He wondered if the wet patch at the front of his underwear was his own cum, or both of theirs. He flinched deliciously at the idea.
Without thinking, he reached forward, taking Robotnik gently by the ankle. He lifted his shoe from the ground. Robotnik raised his head, flushed, hair in disarray, to look at him. Stone met his gaze as he licked the cum away from his shoe in one breathless swipe. Robotnik spasmed again, legs jolting unexpectedly, hands grasping the armrests of his chair. He watched as Stone reached for the polishing cloth, briefly buffing out the toe of his shoe once more before setting it aside.
Robotnik’s stomach turned when he watched Stone swallow, pants and belt undone, hands in his lap, looking up at him with glassy, eager-to-please eyes. Stone’s mouth watered, tastebuds overtaken by the taste of Robotnik’s cum and the bitter shoe protectant spray. He was still breathing in slow, spaced-out heaves. Despite all of his solitary sexual experimentation, he’d never had an orgasm quite like that before, leaving him feeling partly detached from reality.
He felt the first pleasant tingle of electricity, eyes darting to Robotnik’s hand, finger pressed to the button. This shock was different, a warm embrace that crept up from static to a full-body vibration, waves of electricity with pleasant sharp pinprick sensations. He felt every muscle in his body tighten. He gave in, easing down onto his back, feeling his hips lift up from his folded calves, cock throbbing and over-sensitive. He moaned, low and long, helpless as he felt another deluge of pleasure spread through him. Robotnik ended the long, easy shock with a few pulses, watching Stone writhe on the floor before going completely limp when the current left his body.
“Oh my god,” Stone managed, completely overcome, voice heavy.
Again, the two of them stayed very still and very quiet. Stone laid on the floor, collecting himself again as he stared up at the ceiling, letting everything wash over him. Robotnik stared down at Stone as his body coursed with incredible endorphins, feeling overwhelmed, as though the loading wheel in his mind had stalled out completely while he attempted to process all the pleasure that had flooded his system.
“Agent Stone,” Robotnik said hoarsely, quickly clearing his throat in an effort to sound at least somewhat unfazed, “Thirty-minute cooldown. In your office.”
“Yes, sir,” Stone said, pushing himself up slowly into a seated position on his knees.
“Or longer,” Robotnik amended, tucking his dick back into his pants and zipping his fly.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Stone said, shoulders dropping with relief.
Robotnik stood up, pausing to look down at him. He passed a gloved hand through the hair at the crown of Stone’s head, where it was longest, ending it with a short tug, watching Stone wince and sigh.
“Good boy,” he said, “Off you go.”
“Off I go,” Stone repeated, voice still somewhat woozy as he attempted to sound professional.
They both left the lab, Stone for his office, buckling his belt as he went, and Robotnik for his quarters. Robotnik washed his face, combed his hair, and spot-cleaned his trousers with a damp washcloth. Stone dug in his bag for his spare underwear, quickly absconding to the staff bathroom to change. He, too, splashed his face with cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror, eyes immediately drawn to the drying white streak on his necktie. He decided to leave it, giving his reflection one last smiling head-shake of disbelief before returning to his office. He set a thirty-five minute timer on his phone, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes.
When the time came for the afternoon coffee break, Stone prepared two iced coffees, each with a shot of espresso poured in. With a frother, he whipped a little pitcher of coldfoam, topping up each glass.
Hmm. This is a choice, he thought as he walked down to the lab, Oh, well.
He left it on the console next to Robotnik, as usual. He wasn’t surprised to find him already back at work, composed and put-together. He hoped that he looked about the same.
“Thank you, Agent Stone,” Robotnik said without turning to look at him.
“You’re welcome, Doctor,” he replied, “Enjoy.”
Stone’s footsteps retreated to the door in their usual even manner. Robotnik turned his attention to his coffee when he estimated that Stone was about three meters from the lab. A droplet of coldfoam slid slowly down the outer-surface of the glass. He caught it with his fingertip, wiping it up.
He licked it away from his fingertip sensor and was once again gripped by the visual memory of Stone lifting his shoe to his mouth. Gloss white on gloss black. Gloss white on wet pink. Another little tremor of pleasure passed through him like warm electricity.
At the end of the day, Stone reported dutifully to the lab to remove his collar. Robotnik turned to witness the act, as usual. Stone bowed his head, once again catching sight of the dried cum on his necktie, partially-hidden where it was tucked into his suit jacket. As his fingers slipped beneath the leather to unbuckle it, his face went warm recalling Robotnik’s words.
Good boy.