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Corrupted Fantasy

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Dan Masamune is a man of little patience for the follies of youth. Maximum Mighty X has fantastic talent, innate skill, and a power that might rival his own should he care to let him try. But he still shines with naivete, eyes bright and heart still warm and all too willing to believe in the power of good, it would take far too long to mould him to his needs.

Bang Bang Simulations is too far gone. His body is already breaking down from the proto gashats, and though it would be far too easy to manipulate him if he took the child, Masamune can see that he would do nothing more than the bare minimum, and would likely care little for his own life.

Dangerous Zombie has outlived his usefulness.

But Taddle Fantasy… He lets himself smile as he thinks about that particular product. It couldn’t be easier if he was served up on a silver platter. Even without the data of his long-dead girlfriend, Masamune is sure that he could have him on his knees with as much effort as it takes to remind him how pointless his resistance is. The self-doubt bleeds through his composed demeanor, and the veneer of coldness is as sheer as a dancer’s veil, an attractive accessory that does nothing to hide the whirlwind of emotions Masamune can see in his watery eyes.

He steps away from piano, buttons up his jacket, and sets off to work.

He’s tired of the Bugsters doing as they please. He makes a note to hire a handler for them too, but right now, he has to focus on the riders. It doesn’t take long. He pauses, and looks over Taddle Fantasy. More than being an ideal candidate for the job he has in mind, he also has a pleasing figure. Attractively slender, but not skin and bones. He slides his forefinger between waist and belt. A good amount of give to his flesh. He’s heard that the young doctor has a sweet tooth, and while Masamune prefers fit and slim, five years in prison has reminded him that a little cushioning goes a long way. He moves his hands back, and slides them down to his rump. More muscular than he expected. He digs his fingers in, roughly groping and spreading the cheeks. He can just imagine how tight he is.

It takes a little bit of effort to adjust Taddle Fantasy’s pose, but soon he has the pretty product on proper display, bent over with legs spread in some sort of perverse yoga position. Masamune smiles, and looks around at the frozen figures around him as he absentmindedly rubs and squeezes Taddle Fantasy’s rear.

He wonders how the other products would react upon seeing their ally in such a position. Would they be outraged? He dips his finger down into the crack of Taddle Fantasy’s ass. Would they hate him for doing this? He had observed them enough to know that Taddle Fantasy wasn’t particularly well-liked. Perhaps they’d be secretly pleased to see him humiliated like this.

He reaches further down, follows the line of his perineum until he can feel the soft bulge of his balls, and smiles as he gives them a gentle squeeze. How laughably literal to say he has him by the balls.

But this is enough for now. He straightens up, attaches his Bugvisor to his wrist, and deals a vicious blow to Taddle Fantasy’s back. That should be enough to break his transformation once they’re in private. So very fragile. He feels so bad every time he has to damage his products, but if they won’t listen to him, it’s the only thing he can do. He sweeps Taddle Fantasy into his arms, holding him like a princess bride, and leaves.

 

“I’ll never submit to someone like you!”

Masamune mulls over that little tidbit as he watches Taddle Fantasy limp home.

He was sure he was quite explicit about them having a professional, paid, if perhaps somewhat extortionate business relationship. Of course, after their previous rendezvous, Masamune would not mind something like a full service employee.

It would be too easy to take him by force, and while the thought of breaking him in such a visceral way is appealing to Masamune’s corrupted mind, it would be far more pleasurable to have the young doctor submit to such depravity of his own free will. He taps the case on his desk full of proto gashats, and wonders what it would take.

 

He has Taddle Fantasy at his side within the day. Oh, of course it’s for the woman’s data, but he didn’t expect it to be so easy.

The little façade of princely petulance doesn’t hide the tears in his eyes, nor the slavish willingness to please. He expected to have to break him down a bit, teach him politeness and humility, but here he is, stabbing his precious allies in the back then crawling over to lick his boots. Truly, a natural submissive. Masamune makes a note to have some cake delivered to his office. A little appreciation for such a sweet gesture from a loyal employee.

 

Taddle Fantasy looks over the cake like it’s poisoned. He’s already thrown the tantrum Masamune expected when not given his prize for just one day’s work, but his fiery temper seems to fizzle out quickly into miserable sulking, so Masamune doesn’t feel too much like he’s praising him for that particular outburst. Besides, he does look tired and in need of a little sugar, small and slumped in the comfortable armchair closest to the desk.

“Your suite has been prepared if you would prefer to retire for the day.” Masamune states blandly, and checks on the notes from his secretary. Nothing urgent. Nothing interesting.

“Well?”

The young doctor looks up from the cake in surprise.

“You weren’t thinking of returning to your apartment, were you?”

The look on his face is all Masamune needs to know he hadn’t even thought that far ahead before leaping into his trap. Oh, that one so intelligent could be such a fool.

“Don’t worry, I look after my employees.”

He closes his laptop and moves to stand behind his newest employee.

“I assume you’ll have no trouble asking if there’s anything you need.” Masamune says as he leans down and rests his hands on Taddle Fantasy’s shoulders. There’s a twitch of tension, but it dissolves into a silent shaky sigh of what Masamune assumes is surrender. He smiles, gives those tired shoulders a squeeze, and calls for his secretary to come take Taddle Fantasy away.

He eats the cake himself.

 

The demands are starting to grate on his nerves. He stays calm and lets the young doctor burn himself out, but he had hoped that the previous obsequiousness would continue on. Perhaps he has to teach him manners after all.

“Sit down.”

To his surprise, Taddle Fantasy sits immediately. With crossed arms and legs, but still, it’s a start.

He stands in front of Taddle Fantasy, eyebrow raised and hands on hips, and waits.

Clearly, his look of fatherly disappointment is still as effective as ever, as the young doctor’s defiant pose quickly dissolves. Thighs and knees tightly pressed together, hands held loosely in his lap, much more like a proper young lady than the arrogant young man he’s had to deal with lately. It’s a very attractive look, far more than any other position he was expecting him to take.

He leans close, hand on one of the young doctor’s firm thighs, face an inch from the smooth skin of that beauty marked cheek, and enjoys the shaky breath that leaves those bow lips when he makes him wait a second longer before he speaks.

“You haven’t been proving your loyalty to me lately. I’d hate to think you don’t value our…” Masamune pauses, and turns to barely brush his lips against Taddle Fantasy’s ear, “Relationship.”

A shiver goes down the young doctor’s spine, a tiny vibration Masamune might have missed if he wasn’t close enough to feel it tickle against his lips.

He pulls back and gives the thigh he was leaning on a little squeeze. Only then does he notice the slight pinkness blooming on his product’s doll-like face, and thinks twice about ending the conversation so soon.

“You want to do a good job, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm?”

“… Yes, sir.”

“Speaking respectfully is one part of it, yes…” Masamune draws away, and returns to his desk.

Taddle Fantasy is silent as he types. It’s not peaceful silence or respectful silence, Masamune can tell even without looking up that his new employee is just struggling with his words. They may not have a particularly close relationship as of yet, but Masamune has already figured out that Taddle Fantasy has a hard time voicing his thoughts without blustering.

He decides to take mercy on him.

“It’s not just the girl you want, is it? There’s something you want from me.”

Masamune isn’t particularly surprised when Taddle Fantasy suddenly stands and sweeps over to his desk, but he is surprised when the young doctor drops to his knees beside his chair, head bowed.

“Oh?”

“Anything you want. I– I’ll do it.”

Masamune turns in his chair, observing Taddle Fantasy as he uncrosses his legs and plants his feet on either side of the product’s knees. A compromising position, should anyone walk in at this moment. He wonders if Taddle Fantasy was aware of it. Or had hoped it would be.

“If I wanted something from you, you would know. I’m asking what it is you want.”

Taddle Fantasy raises his head, but doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, his glance flickers from the ground, up his legs… then skirts away to the side, perhaps finally realising the position they’re in. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch when Masamune rests his hand on his upper thigh, knowingly drawing the young doctor’s gaze to his crotch. If anything, he leans a hair’s breadth closer. But Masamune is a busy man, and as tempting as it is to draw this out, he simply can’t afford to waste time.

“Don’t make me ask you again, Taddle Fantasy.”

The young doctor’s lips part, eyes lingering where perhaps they should not before he finally speaks.

“I…”

“Mmm?”

“I want to please you, sir.”

Masamune drums his fingers against his thigh, once, twice, and waits.

“I want to please you, sir.” Taddle Fantasy repeats as he leans in and looks up, his offer unmistakable.

Masamune sighs, a little annoyed at the lack of initiative, but shifts his legs further apart and gestures for the young doctor to go on. He can afford this much time.

Taddle Fantasy goes straight for his belt buckle. There’s precision in his movements if no sensuality, and soon he has Masamune’s cock in his hand and an expression between nausea and unbridled lust on his pretty face.

Masamune’s own expression is calm. This isn’t the first time he’s had someone try to win his favour with their body, and he very much doubts it will be the last.

He barely reacts when the young doctor leans down and sucks the head of his dick into his mouth. Most people would have used their hands to get him hard first, but he doesn’t mind this. Taddle Fantasy leans further, takes a bit more into his mouth, and glances up at him after a few half-hearted movements up and down. Perhaps he’s wondering why he isn’t that hard yet. He’s not young any more. If he wants his prize, he’ll have to work harder. He amuses himself with that mental image as Taddle Fantasy continues his awkward movements, and it’s then realisation hits him.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?”

Taddle Fantasy’s eyes meet his, humilation and shame in his obvious failure to please dancing behind them as he pulls off. It’s very attractive. It does more to fuel his growing erection than the amateur blowjob has so far, at least. He leans back to unbutton his waistcoat and the last few buttons of his shirt so they won’t get dirty, and gives his shaft a few pumps against the young doctor’s pretty lips.

“Use your tongue and your hands to start.”

He catches on quickly, if nothing else. Taddle Fantasy’s fingers play more delicately than he would like, but he licks his shaft as if it’s glazed in honey and suckles the head like he can’t get enough of the taste.

“Very good,” Masamune drawls, and shifts his trousers down a little further. He’s definitely hard now, but there’s still work to be done.

“Now, don’t just put it in your mouth, mind your teeth, breathe through your nose, and suck like it’s candy.”

It takes a few minutes for Taddle Fantasy to get the hang of it. But he sucks cock like he was born to do it once he figures it out, slurping and licking and bobbing his head, far better than Masamune had expected.

So of course, now that he’s just started to really enjoy it, the phone rings.

“Yes? Mmm. I understand. Yes, I can see her now. Thank you.”

Taddle Fantasy freezes, cock still between his lips as he looks up in horror.

“You are going to finish what you started, aren’t you?  Tick. Tock.”

Taddle Fantasy whines around the shaft in his mouth, brows furrowed as if he wants to complain, but Masamune simply pushes his head back down.

“It generally takes my project developer ten minutes to reach my office. Five if she’s already in the R&D offices. That’s plenty of time if you work hard.”

A little pressure always helps his employees with their projects. As expected, Taddle Fantasy doubles down in his efforts. He sucks harder, jerks Masamune’s cock into his mouth, the filthy sounds filling the quiet office. He gags a little as he takes it a little too deep, and Masamune lets his head fall back against the chair in pleasure as the young doctor coughs around him.

“Don’t give up now, you’re doing so well…” Masamune croons, and he wonders if the tears filling Taddle Fantasy’s eyes are from choking or from shame.

He chokes and coughs again and again, trying to force Masamune’s cock down his throat down without knowing how to do it, and Masamune might care to teach him how much easier it is if you stick your tongue out first if both the feeling and the visuals of him choking weren’t so delicious. Combined with the pretty tears and near-constant whining now sending vibrations down his dick, Masamune thinks Taddle Fantasy might actually meet his deadline after all.

There’s a knock at the door.

“One moment, thank you!” Masamune calls out, satisfied when he’s met with silence. Taddle Fantasy looks up at him again, eyes wide and tears now freely streaming down his cheeks even as he continues to bob up and down. It doesn’t take much longer for Masamune to feel the heat pooling in his loins, and he pulls out of Taddle Fantasy’s mouth just in time to paint his face with white.

Taddle Fantasy does nothing, only squeezes his eyes shut and coughs as the streaks of cum drip down his cheek, his forehead, and his wet eyelashes. Masamune fixes his clothing, then pulls the young doctor up into his arms to wipe away the worst of it with a tissue.

“Let her in as you leave.” Masamune tells him, and doesn’t have the time to warn him of the splatters in his hair and on his lapel as he pushes away and rushes out, red-faced and teary.