Okay typical disclaimers, I own no one, they own themselves. This is slash and has a mature warning for a reason. It has theme's of coercion, dom/sub toys and smut! If you don't like it I suggest you hit the back button or the little x in the corner. Okay so I wrote this and sent it to Lamentomori who did a complete amazing job editing and reworking this to something I felt happy to post. So although not official I am calling her my co-author on this piece of work as she made everything a million times better and helped hugely with the dialogue and with Colt's character. Go read her stuff, she is amazing!
Estrada calls me and tells me I have been summoned, not to see Estrada but by the man himself. Vince McMahon wants to see me and I'm not sure why. I'm on ECW; he has paid little or no attention to me. He compared me to Jeff Hardy, one of the few times I've met him and it left a bad taste in my mouth. Plus avoiding the man, means he can't fire me. So avoiding him is what I've done for the last several months, avoid Vince and keep to the path Paul Heyman planned out for me before being fired. I've never questioned Paul's plan, the man is brilliant and because of him, I've made it to TV, the place I was never supposed to be, slowly making more appearances on Smackdown. This is what most likely put me in Vince's atmosphere, showing up on one of his shows that mattered. I think I might be getting fired. It wouldn't surprise me. None of the morons, who have Vince's ear, like me or think that I deserve to be here.
So on the day of the meeting, I find myself actually nervous, planning for my future after the WWE, a possible return to ROH, spending much needed time with neglected friends and family. Vince himself calls and tells me he is running behind schedule. He requests we meet later, this evening. I agree, although this is just going to draw out the anxiety I have building. When he finally calls, I'm surprised when he requests I meet him in his room. I take a cab to the much nicer hotel he is staying at and make my way up to his penthouse suite. He opens the door and I feel my nerves increase. The main room has a table that he has covered with paperwork. He gestures me over to him and I sit. He offers me a drink, I thank him and accept the bottle of water. I take several long gulps and roll the bottle between my hands, thankful for something to do with them. This man literally holds my future in his hands and I know enough to be respectful. He pulls out the chair opposite me and picks up a file, flipping through it. "Hard worker, has an attitude, no respect for authority, should never be pushed. Your file doesn't make for pleasant reading." I know and want to tell him that it's a load of bullshit but honestly it's kind of true.
"I understand what people are saying about me, it's what they always say about me and I'm sure you've heard it all before. So why meet me about it now, Mr. McMahon?" Vince chuckles and stands, walks over to the bar and he pours himself a drink.
"I've been debating shutting down ECW, and deciding who I'm going to keep in the roster. Your name has come up as one to cut if I decided to follow through."
"You're firing me?" He shakes his head, sitting back down in his seat.
"I didn't say that. I have not made my mind up yet. I know you're somewhat talented; you might even deserve a push. I'd consider giving you one, hell maybe even put a strap on you." He takes a drink from his glass, I fidget in the chair, there's a catch here, and I just don't know what. Vince McMahon doesn't just say he'd give me everything I could want without a catch. "That is if you accept my proposition." The catch, I was waiting for that. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about Jeff Hardy and myself, that we're in something of a relationship." He says the word like it had personally offended him and I nod who the hell backstage hasn't heard those rumors or seen enough evidence to confirm them as true. Jeff gets pushed; drugs get ignored because he's letting Vince use him as a sex doll. And suddenly, it dawns on me, I've heard rumors, Vince is unhappy with Jeff, he's looking for a new toy. That's the proposition; let Vince fuck me and get everything I want, don't and get fired. I swallow hard, staring at the water bottle in my hand. "I have decided it is time to end my little relationship with Jeff. I'm looking for a replacement. You intrigue me, Punk and I want you as the replacement."
"I'm not gay" I state and hear him laugh, mocking and cold.
"I don't care. Your sexuality doesn't concern me, hell it'd work in my favour! You'd be more secretive then Jeff ever was, and it means you're a virgin. It's been a while since I met a wrestler who hasn't spread their legs before making it big but I have a feeling that it never even crossed your mind." I shake my head, nope never slept my way to the top and have no clue why I haven't left. I'd always left the room at the offer before, so why am I still here?
"I'm not interested Vince. That you would think I would be, is ridiculous. I'm leaving. Fire me all you want." I head for the door, getting the hell out of here the only thing on my mind. He clears his throat, loud and deliberate. I turn to glance at him, instincts screaming to get the fuck away from this man and his fucking offer.
"You've a lot of friends in ECW, right, Punk?" I nod, not sure what he is getting at but I have a feeling it might be something I'm not going to like. "I'll consider keeping ECW around a while longer, the people you care for, your friends, they'll keep getting pay-checks, if you agree. Refuse me and it all goes." I swallow, my mouth feels dry like I've tried to eat a hundred graham crackers, and I'm not sure how to react to that threat. My choice, it affects so much more than me, would he really close down ECW just because I refuse to let him fuck me? I lick my lips; I need to hear him out. I can still refuse, there's no harm in just listening, might even give me an advantage. I sit back down.
"Explain it to me, everything, total disclosure. Full details on what you'd expect from me, what I get in return." He smiles at me, taking sip of his drink and relaxing in his seat, confidence and arrogance oozing from him.
"It's simple really; your body belongs to me, to do with as I wish." He pauses, his smile bleeds into a leer, and I can feel my skin crawling and fidget. "You will not sleep with anyone else. Man, woman, doesn't matter, you will not be in a relationship. As long as I choose to keep you, I am the only one allowed to fuck you. When I call, you come, if I want to take you away, you go, I say jump, Punk and you say how high." I stare at him; I roll the bottle of water around in my hands some more, at his beck and call perpetually, till he gets sick of me, I already feel sick just thinking about it. "This is private, just between the two of us. Do you understand?" I open my mouth to speak but he glares at me, that he holds my professional future in his hands, the futures of those I care for most in them too burns. I snap my mouth closed and nod. "In exchange you get a push; you get to be a star. I'll use my influence with Creative to make you win/loss columns look good. Hell, be a good boy and I'll even consider putting the ECW strap on you. It's your choice, you want something and I'm feeling magnanimous, I can and will make it happen." I bite at my lip ring, twisting the metal round and round. I should turn him down, I'm not even remotely attracted to him but this could ensure my future, the future of everyone I care about in this company.
"You know, this, proposing this arrangement, threatening my job, threatening the jobs of my friends, this is illegal, Vince. Sexual harassment." He nods, seems more amused than concerned. "How long?" I ask him all he does is raise an eyebrow. "How long would this arrangement last?" I feel cornered; his eyes are boring into me, like he's trying to pluck my decision out of my head.
"For as long as I want, or until I get bored, whichever comes first?" I take another drink of the water, wondering why I am not leaving. This feels so wrong, so taboo and yet that aspect of it kind of turns me on and I really don't want to dwell on that thought because this is illegal, this is wrong in more than the it's a little naughty sense and he's leering at me.
"If I wanted out?" He shakes his head, sharp and firm. I don't get any say in that, apparently. "You ended it with Jeff, why?"
"Jeff developed feelings." His voice is an odd mix of disgust, superiority and apathy. "A strict no-no, Punk. I put up with his clinginess, his neediness, and being overly affection in appropriate places because he has a tight ass, and a great mouth, but it became too much so I ended it. Well, at least I will be, tonight, if you agree to this." Nope, not happening, I heard him out and have no desire to go through with this. He wouldn't really shut down a whole promotion just because I refused to be his boy toy.
"Thanks but no thanks, Vince. Not interested, I suggest you find someone else." He smirks and takes another sip of his drink.
"Fine, but why not do me a favour and take twenty four hours to think it over. Expect a call from Estrada by the end of the night." He looks me over, his eyes lingering in places, I'd rather they didn't.
"You'll find I'm not joking, Punk, the little wrestling show you love will disappear and then maybe I'll go after that other company, what is it? ROH?" He smirks at me, swills his liquor in the glass. "Or maybe, I'll make it more personal; go after someone closer to home?" I cringe but refuse to answer, storming from the room and slamming the door behind me. I will not be intimidated by this man. He may be powerful but not even Vince McMahon has that much fucking power.
I am back in his room the next night but this time I came here of my own freewill, pounding on the door, demanding entrance. He wasn't joking, bout two AM, I got a call, someone telling me that ECW was being shut down, that no one was being kept. Then Gabe, this morning, excited but confused, somebody had contacted him about ROH, is it for sale, their interested in purchasing it. The worst, the absolutely fucking worst was call three, Colt. Colt, the ink barely dry on his contract. Colt, who's stuck in OVW, working, trying to make his way up. Colt who called me, defeat in his voice, he wasn't going to get called up, they see no potential, and they're done with him.
He didn't see it coming, no one did, no one could, and it just suddenly came down the line that Vince wasn't happy with his performance. As if Vince had ever seen him perform. Closer to home, his words from last night. He has no idea how too close that is.
"So how was your day?" He's practically laughing at me as I pace his room. I'm beyond pissed off with this fucker, he is leaving me no choice, accept his deal or watch the people I love suffer. As much as it infuriates me, as much as I loathe having no control, there's that part of me that finds it a turn on, something slightly erotic about this helplessness.
"Just fucking perfect. Call it off, Vince. Why the fuck would you do this?" He gestures to the chair I sat in last night. I sit heavily staring at the bottle of water he places in front of me, before grabbing it. I can't hide my hatred from him; I know my glare shows exactly how I am feeling.
"I told you, it was your choice. All you need to do is agree to my terms and I can tell somebody that it was a clerical error. ECW is staying for the foreseeable future, the interested party for your little wrestling love disappears, and your little friend, Sean, Steve, Scott, whatever it is, gets to stay in OVW and with no outside interference. At the end of the day, Punk, it's all up to you." I lick my lip, flicking at the ring, thinking, trying desperately to find a way out of this.
"Why me?" I know I sound pathetic but I'm clutching at straws.
"Why not you? I like my men on the smaller side, in bed, at least. You've talent." He smirks at me, a leer in his eyes. "And you don't want it, that's more than reason enough." I hate him, I honestly hate him. Yet, what choice do I have? None, no choice at all, it's agree or watch everyone I give more than two fucks about suffer. I take a deep breath, letting escape from my lungs slowly, I need to negotiate terms, I need to wrestle some kind of an upside to this.
"One year, Vince, one year and I can end it if I choose to." He considers my words and then smiles, holding up two fingers.
"Two years and then we can renegotiate." I nod, grim and resigned, it's better than what he was offering in the first place.
"No one finds out, no one, Vince. If I agree to this, even those close to you, don't find about it." He nods but then, I knew he would, he won't have a problem keeping it quiet. "When does this agreement start?" He pulls out some papers and hands them to me, a new contract, better pay, guaranteed title run, a few perks like travel expenses.
"You sign that, it is an agreement, then our agreement, starts tomorrow morning. It'll give me time to be done Jeff and for you to finish with whoever you're fucking." I read over the contract, I should throw this fucking sheath of paper back at this asshole but if I do, the consequences, they're so steep.
"If I don't sign, don't agree then I'm fired? Everyone in ECW, and Colt too?" He looks at me, eyebrow raised, his fucking smirk on his face. "And you are an incredible asshole?"
"Now, Punk, why would you assume that? There are other people I could get rid of over you. I mean I could keep you around, make you the Chicago Brawler till the end of your contract. As I said, it's all up to you." He smirks.
"That's fucking blackmail" I spit, my body tense, the water bottle crackling under my fingers.
"No, it's not." He says shortly. "It's the truth. You don't need to be fired, but there are others who could be. You've some talent; do you really want to spend the remaining years of your contract jobbing to guys with a lot less than you?" I stare at him, how can one man be such a fucking asshole? "One thing to remember, Punk, if you agree and you piss me off, there will be consequences." I close my eyes tightly, rubbing at the back of my neck. I've got no choice, I think, grabbing the pen from the table signing the contract. He holds his hand for me to give it to him. As soon as the paper is in his hand, he drops it and his fingers wrap around my wrist. "One more rule"
"What?" I snap, resisting the urge to pull my wrist away from him.
"You don't get jealous. I will see other people. I will spend time with my wife. I will sleep with other men. Just know that, you are my number one pet." Pet, I cringe, as he stands and hauls me to my feet. He pulls me close, my body tense and rigid against him, rebelling at the enforced closeness.
"Don't fucking worry, there's literally no chance of me getting jealous. A little unfair how you get to fuck around and I don't." He laughs and his hand slides down my back groping at my ass, he is anything but gentle and it take all of my willpower not to shudder. Running out of the room, it seems like a really good fucking plan. He sniffs my neck and I try to pull away from him. "Anyone ever been in here?" His hand slaps my ass and I shake my head.
"Thought we established that I'm not fucking gay, Vince." He laughs and presses his lips to mine. I keep them sealed shut, till he pinches my ass, hard. I make what is the most pitiful noise I've ever heard and his tongue surges into my mouth. I stand there letting him kiss me, not responding but not pulling away, my whole body rigid, like everything, my mind and body have no way to process what's happening. When finally he pulls away, alls I can taste is the burn of alcohol in my mouth. I quickly swipe at my lips with the back of my hand, he raises an amused eyebrow. "You taste like liquor." I snap and he chuckles finally letting me go.
"I find your resistance very, arousing. The fact that you're straight that makes it so much better for me. I'm going to enjoy proving how much you love a good, hard dick in your ass, very soon, Punk." He walks back to the desk and opens a drawer, watching me closely. He comes back to me, and hands me a cell phone, "This is my phone, no one gets this number, no matter what time of day or night you answer it, and no matter where you are or what you are doing you come to me understand?" I nod, his phone, his little bell to ring when he wants to fuck me. I put it in my pocket, feeling its weight like it was made of lead. The next thing, he holds out to me, alarms me. I wonder what the hell he wants me to do with it. "This, Punk, is a butt plug, I'm sure you know how one works." I nod the name explains enough "It's not as big as I am, but play with it tonight, and make sure its inside you when I call for you tomorrow." I can't stop the shudder that runs down my spine. "I'd suggest you get used to things in your ass, Punk." He says coolly. "Stretch yourself out with this tonight. I don't intend to be gentle, virgin or not."
"Our arrangement doesn't start until tomorrow, Vince" I state, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Your choice, Punk, though, I wouldn't want to be you, when I pop that cherry of yours with no prep. Remember, tomorrow starts at midnight" I grab the plug stuffing it into my hoodie pocket and move to open the door. "See you soon, Punk, very soon." I can hear the leer in his voice and leave, heading back to my own hotel, shell shocked by all this.
As soon as I arrive at my room, I start pacing. I see no way out of this. I finally cave and call my girl. Whilst it was going to come to an end soon, I never expected it to be under these circumstances. Once she finishes calling me every type of bastard under the sun, my phone is almost drained so I plug it into the socket and flop down onto the bed. Grabbing my phone, I call Colt. I need his advice; no one is supposed to know but Colt, he won't tell anyone. As soon as he answers, I spill everything, and wait for him to respond.
"That's heavy man; I so wouldn't want to be in your shoes." He sighs. "If you're worried about me, don't. Think about yourself, Punk, not anyone else."
"What choice do I have?" He sighs again and I wait for an answer.
"It all depends on what you want. What you're willing to sacrifice to get to the top." Apparently, I'm willing to sacrifice a lot; I signed the fucking contract after all. "You're good but are they going to acknowledge it without a fight or someone backing you. Either way you look at it, Punk, I think you're fucked, just one way, you're literally fucked." He laughs softly; I can feel myself smiling in response. I might not be gay but Colt is, hell, he's hit on me more than a few times. He's someone I can trust, someone I can ask for advice on this agreement
"Does it hurt? What's it like? Do you bleed? How do I prepare for it?" Words come tumbling out Colt laughs and I can practically, see him rolling his eyes at me.
"I've never bottomed, not my thing but if there is no prep, then yes, Punk, it hurts, might always hurt a little, I don't know. I'll ask next time I get lucky." He laughs again, I know he's trying to lighten the mood but you can't lighten a fucking blackout.
"Colt, take this fucking seriously." I snap at him, he sighs softly and adopts a rather clinical tone.
"Without adequate preparation and lubrication, anal bleeding can occur, anal fissures are more than likely."
"Fissures?"
"Tears." He clarifies.
"I don't want my ass torn up!" He laughs at me, loud and overly amused. "Don't fucking laugh at me!"
"Don't be fucking hilarious then. Look, Punk, if it's done right then getting fucked, should feel real good. It should get you off." I sigh; I really don't believe that in the least. "Punk, you've fucked a woman in the ass, right?"
"Yes." I say, cautiously, I'm not entirely certain where he's going with this.
"How do you make it feel good for her?" He asks, voice still betraying his amusement.
"Clit." The answer is short and true. "You're not going to tell me I have a clit, are you Colt? Cause I hate to disappoint you but there's a reason you hit on me when you're drunk."
"Actually, it's your pretty little ass but never mind." He laughs.
"Fuck you." I snap.
"I can't believe I'm saying this. Punk do you have lube?"
"Yes."
"Okay, use it. Prep yourself, use the plug he gave you, use your fingers, find your prostate, that'll help you enjoy it. Explore your body, Punk, find out what feels good, what you don't like. Use it to your advantage." I can't believe he said that either. "And Punk, relax! If it happens, if you go through with this, don't tense up." I sigh looking at the table I go over to my bag and rifle through finding my bottle of lube and toss it down beside the plug.
"Would you think less of me if I went through with this?" I think less of myself for considering it.
"No!" He answers almost before I finish talking, voice sharp and quick. "No, of course not, Punk. You're my best friend; I'll be behind you if you need me. Just do what you think is right. If you need something, anything, call me, Punk." His voice is soft, earnest and full of quiet emotion. I thank him and hang up.
The phone from Vince goes off. I stand and walk over to it, opening it up and seeing a text. I swallow nervously at the image of a large penis, which fills the screen. Can't wait to see this fucking you today its 12:02 send me a picture of you naked and hard, or call me and have phone sex. Your choice Punk. I have never taken a picture of myself the way he wants, it'd end up on the internet knowing my luck but I doubt that would happen with Vince and there is no way I am having phone sex with him. So I strip off my clothes, I grab the lube and coat my dick, laying back on the bed, I stroke myself to hardness, trying not to think of the size of his penis and how uncomfortable that is going to be inside of me. Once I'm hard, I head to the bathroom and snap a quick photo in the mirror. I send it to Vince then delete it from the phone. I know I gave him ammunition but does it matter, he already has everything he needs, has already proved he's willing to go to extreme lengths to get his own way. I can't back out of this, if I do I'm fucked, but then again, like Colt said, any way you look at it I'm fucked.
I head back to the bed and lay down. I examine the plug, it's a lot smaller then Vince and I have a feeling it won't really prepare me for the man. I lube up a few of my fingers, and force one into my body, trying to relax. It's not painful exactly but very foreign and odd. I work it in as far as I can and then wiggle it about, move it in and out, it doesn't feel good exactly but isn't as bad as I pictured. I add a second finger slowly and work them in and out, scissoring myself, stretching, and pumping, looking down at my flaccid cock and hoping I can learn to enjoy this. Vince is going to expect that, I can tell. This isn't working, I think, as I pull my fingers from my body and call Colt again. "Where the hell is the prostate and how do you find it?" I snap at him and he chuckles.
"You want me to come pop your cherry?" He laughs.
"Fuck you, Colt."
"Your prostate is in your ass."
"I guessed that but where? I missed butt fucking boys 101." He laughs at me again and I'm sorely tempted to hang up on the fucker but I need his advice, so I'll have to endure his mockery.
"Shame, it was a good class. Lie on your back, Punkers, spread your legs, and slide a finger in your ass, okay?"
"Uh-huh." I ease a finger into myself as he directed.
"Run it along the top of your anus, kind of towards your stomach, and you'll feel it. It's kind of harder flesh than what's around it, then play with it, till you find what feels good."
"Oh" It takes me a little while but I know when I've found it, my body jerks and my penis starts to harden as electricity flows through my body.
"Are you fingering yourself, Punkers?" His voice is strangely rough.
"Um, maybe?"
"The image in my head at the moment is hot, Punkers." He laughs.
"Fuck off. Don't fucking picture me in your head, you fucking pervert!" I snap at him, brushing over my prostate again, shivers running down my spine.
"Then don't fucking stick your fingers up your ass on the phone with me! I'm going, have fun." He hangs up.
"Oh, fuck." I whisper and lick at my lips, this is interesting I think. I rub at my prostate and soon find my dick hard and myself enjoying the finger playing in my ass. I glance at the butt plug, its glass, with a few ridges and a curved tip and I think; now I know what that's for. I grab the lube and drizzle it over the plug, swallowing at the weight and even though it's not thick, I think it might hurt. I take a deep breath and remembering to stay relaxed, slowly work it into my body, the coolness of the glass sends a shiver through me. I wince when I feel my body stretching around it, I can feel myself trying to keep it out but I keep up the pressure until it's in and my breath catches. Yup the damn thing hits on my prostate and I slide it back and forth a little, my breathing grows heavy and I groan as Vince's phone goes off again, another text and I hope the man leaves me the hell alone soon. What are you doing? I growl and just snap a picture of the plug in my ass, sending it to him. A few seconds later and I still the hand that is jerking on my cock, I'm so close it's not fucking funny and Vince won't leave me the fuck alone. I open the phone and glare at the message, I'm not ready for this yet, but I reluctantly stand yanking on my clothes, leaving the plug in place, I head to his hotel, wondering why I even left. I want to fuck you now, come to my room, his words causing my head to swim. Am I really doing this, I wonder, am I about to let my boss fuck me?
Okay please tell me what you think? Do you want more? Is it horrible, do you like it? I want feedback, I want it from everyone even those who normally lurk in the shadows (trust me I get it, I lurk in the shadows myself reading!) Please, please, please review this is me begging!
Lamentomori- Lady I can not express how grateful I am that I sent this to you and the amazing work you did! I am so thrilled with how this chapter turned out, though the standards for the next one is pretty damn high now!
