The city lights cast a dim glow into the living room, but the real heat is between them.
Coner is in his usual spot, sprawled across the couch, legs spread wide, owning the space without even trying. One arm drapes lazily over the backrest, the other resting on his thigh. He looks completely at ease.
Below him, Adi kneels. Waiting. Watching. Trembling.
He’s already hard. He always is when they do this. His body has been trained for it. He knows what’s coming. And Coner knows it too.
"Who does this belong to?"
Adi shudders. The question alone makes him twitch. His voice is barely above a whisper.
"You, Sir."
Coner exhales through his nose, pleased, reaching forward to grip Adi’s cock—not stroking, just holding. His fingers wrap around it, firm, unmoving. The pressure alone makes Adi whimper.
"Yeah?" Coner murmurs, his voice amused, casual. Like he’s humoring Adi, letting him say the words even though they both know the truth.
Adi twitches in his grip.
"You know, I could say anything right now."
His thumb brushes lazily over the tip, feeling how Adi’s body responds instantly to every movement.
"I could talk about how fucking tiny this is in my hand."
Adi jerks, his cock twitching so hard it makes Coner chuckle.
"Yeah? You liked that?"
Coner doesn’t even stroke, just keeps holding, watching how Adi reacts just to words.
"I mean, come on," Coner continues, tilting his head. "Look at this. This is all you’ve got?"
Adi’s breath catches. His hips twitch forward, instinct trying to chase something that isn’t even there.
"I could just talk about how much better you look kneeling like this—small, needy, dripping for me."
Adi whimpers, twitching in Coner’s grip again.
Coner laughs, finally giving a single stroke—slow, teasing, barely enough to feel.
"See?" Coner murmurs, his grip tightening just a little. "I don’t even have to touch you properly. I just have to say the right words, and you start twitching like a little toy."
Adi moans, eyes squeezed shut.
"I bet if I keep talking, you’ll start leaking all over my hand without me even trying."
Another twitch.
Coner watches him, completely in control, knowing exactly what he’s doing to Adi’s body.
"That’s right. This is what you are now. You don’t even get to come like a normal boy anymore, huh?"
Adi whimpers louder, his thighs trembling. His cock is so sensitive, so trained, that the words alone have him right at the edge.
"No, see—this is what I want," Coner says, watching Adi’s hips stutter forward instinctively, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "I want you so desperate that you start humping into my hand like a little thing in heat."
Adi whines, his body moving without permission.
"I want you so far gone that you can’t even think straight. Just instinct. Just obedience."
Coner’s strokes stay slow, teasing, never enough.
"You want to come, don’t you?" Coner tightens his grip.
Adi nods frantically, eyes glazed, his body shaking from restraint.
"Then earn it."
And just like that, Adi snaps.
His body takes over—he starts humping, thrusting into Coner’s hand without shame, without thought.
And then—he barks.
Loud. Raw. Instinctive.
Coner grins.
"That’s it," he coos, watching his training take full effect. "Look at you."
Adi doesn’t stop—he can’t. His body is too far gone. He’s humping desperately, whining, barking, his cock twitching violently in Coner’s tight grip.
"So fucking gone for me," Coner chuckles, stroking just a little faster, just enough to let it happen. "Come on, then. Show me how much you need it."
Adi shatters.
His whole body convulses, his cock jerking as he spurts all over Coner’s hand, shaking, whimpering, barking, as he collapses forward onto Coner’s leg.
Coner sighs, watching the mess, his fingers idly wiping some of it onto Adi’s own chest.
"That’s what I thought."
Adi slumps, completely spent, panting, ruined, his forehead resting on Coner’s knee.
And then, just as Adi’s body settles, Coner nudges him with his foot.
"Down."
Adi knows what that means. He shifts, crawling lower, pressing his forehead to the floor, his back straightening as he settles on all fours—completely still.
Coner props his feet up onto Adi’s back, sighing as he leans into the couch, stretching lazily.
"Good boy. Now be quiet."
And that’s how the night ends—White Boy’s Grip keeping him exactly where he belongs.
