Chapter Text
Willi could tell that his owner had a crush.
The poor guy was never the best at hiding his emotions. He could barely hold himself together playing checkers, let alone hold his own at a poker table.
It didn’t help that he had been locked in chastity for several months now.
He had been experimenting with some self play, and Willi, the mischievous little pup that he was, had snagged the ring of keys while his owner had been too busy fucking himself on a dildo and had tucked them under his doggy bed.
Elliot, flustered and embarrassed when he had finished his play and found the keys missing, didn’t have the courage to call a locksmith and he certainly didn’t think to check under his pup’s bed. Willi just gave him a pleading look with his big brown eyes and Elliot didn’t question a thing.
In fact, Willi liked to see the desperation build up in his owner.
The human pup had been locked up in his own cage ever since he had graduated puppy training school, and it was only on rare occasions that Elliot was careless enough to leave around a toy that Willi could fuck into his near-virgin ass.
The pup had been adopted as a working dog, but Elliot never used him that way.
So Willi liked the revenge, watching his owner slowly dissolve with his own building desperation to cum just like Willi had.
Willi had a lot more self control though, and if it wasn’t for Elliot’s office job, Willi was sure the slut would spend all-day, every-day hunkered down in his room, fucking his ass with a toy and holding a vibrator to the tip of his cage while watching porn, in the hopes that he would squirt at some point.
Willi, on the other hand, did his own job well .
Every morning, he would catch a corner of the curtain in Elliot’s room in his muzzle and pull it open. He had to yank the blankets off too, and Elliot would always moan and roll over, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to ward off the morning chill.
Like always, Willi just rolled his eyes and huffed, scrambling onto the bed.
He nosed his way between Elliot’s thighs--his owner had long since learned that wearing underwear to bed would only have them wrestled off his hips in the morning.
And then Elliot’s moans of protest devolved into panting pleasure as Willi wrapped his warm, wet mouth around the small metal cage.
His muzzle encompassed the minuscule inch of it, and it took no effort at all to pull it into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the fat, full balls and sucking those into his cheeks next.
Elliot fit so perfectly in Willi’s mouth, salty and wet after his sex-heavy dreams. Willi would hum, eyes closing in bliss as he cleaned his owner up and got him ready to start the day.
The vibrations traveled into the metal cage, making Elliot gasp and moan. His hands found their way into Willi’s hair, carding through it and gripping him firmly. He knew better than to try and pull the pup away, and Willi rewarded him, letting his saliva pool in his mouth and making his hole even wetter and hotter.
Willi had the timing of the cleaning down to an art, pulling off Elliot's cock no less than five minutes later, the balls and metal shining and wet. And clean.
He would sit up then, wagging his tail as he waited expectantly for Elliot to get up and get them both breakfast.
Elliot would drape an arm over his face, panting from the ordeal, knowing he could push his luck with Willi for a few seconds more before the pup would start nipping at him.
“Okay, okay, I’m up,” he said, warding off Willi’s insistent paws as he rolled to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side and sitting up.
He yawned as he stood, tugging his t-shirt straight and running a hand through his hair in an effort to control some of the initial bedhead. He stepped over the piles of socks and pants, choosing to wear his pajamas to the kitchen.
Willi wagged with pride.
There used to be a time where Elliot would blush and try to cover himself up, even if it was only him and Willi in the apartment. Now, his cock cage dangled between his legs, drying in the morning sun as he puttered around the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling Willi’s box of kibble from the cupboard.
He measured the cupful, letting it clatter into the tin feeding dish.
Willi took a seat, but he wouldn’t start his own meal until Elliot had gotten his own food. He watched Elliot like a hawk, making sure the egg was pulled from the tray in the fridge and the bread was tucked into the toaster.
Elliot’s phone chimed--a unique alert that he chose for each person in his contacts, and Willi cocked his head.
A beat after the notification, Elliot’s caged cock gave a kick, squirting a bit of precum onto his thigh.
Elliot jumped up with a soft curse, grabbing his napkin and bringing it between his legs. He blushed, holding it there as he opened his phone.
Willi knew his owner had a crush.
A soft, dopey smile curled across Elliot’s lips as he read the text message, and his pink blush darkened to a red. His fingers, which had just been holding the napkin against the tip of his cage, started to move slowly, circling the tip as his hips started to twitch.
It seemed entirely unconscious, and Willi watched his owner with intense concentration.
He had long since picked up on which notification sound coordinated with the limited people in Elliot’s life, and this one in particular was for work.
Or the Boss.
Mr. Chen.
Willi had heard Elliot moan the man’s name while he fucked a thick dildo in and out of his ass, caught up in some fantasy where his boss no doubt bent him over a desk and giving Elliot the coring out he so desperately craved.
Each time Elliot’s phone would chime with a text message from Mr. Chen, his cock would give a little kick and get a little more wet.
It was easy to read him like an open book.
Elliot had a crush, and the cage locked around his cock and the building months of desperation weren't helping. Willi knew, at some point or another, he was going to have to step in to help his owner. Like he had to with most things in Elliot’s life.
Elliot giggled a little as he responded to the message single-handedly, finally managing to pull his hand and the napkin away from his cage. He had to set his phone aside, shaking out his hands and body as he recovered from the brief interaction before tucking into his breakfast. He let the crumpled napkin sit next to his plate, in case he needed to dab up the cage more in the aftermath of the short interaction.
After watching a bite or two, Willi finally bent down and tucked into his own meal.
After both their empty dishes were in the sink, Willi followed Elliot back to his bedroom and watched him get dressed for work.
Elliot always blushed when he pulled on his tight thong for the day. It was the best type of underwear to support his cage and prevent his over-stuffed balls from swinging around in his pants, even though the straps always snapped over his hips and threatened to peak out from the waistband of his pants and the thin string of the back disappeared between his cheeks to rub distractingly on his hole for the entire day.
Willi just watched him sternly, making sure his owner was properly dressed for a professional day at the office.
Once the last button on his shirt was done and his dress shoes were slipped onto his feet, Elliot would pull Willi’s working harness out of its storage spot on the dresser and get him fitted to go outside as well.
Heavy working pads would be looped on his knees and hands, saving his skin from the scratch of concrete, and the neon yellow of the service vest declared Willi as Elliot’s medically necessary sexual service dog.
It wasn’t a rare medical necessity, but it also wasn’t the most common.
As far as Willi knew, Elliot had originally applied for an emotional support animal when he had gone off to college, but his evaluations had him diagnosed for more than just emotional needs. Willi was there to make sure Elliot didn’t get too . . . distracted while his own self-pleasuring habits.
Willi puffed up with pride as his leash was clipped to his collar, taking his spot at the heel directly behind Elliot’s right shoe as they stepped out the door.
The ride to the office was a short train ride, and Willi kept himself tucked under the seats and out of the way. He kept most of his attention on Elliot. He watched his breathing, the fidgeting of his hands with his phone as he swiped through messages, and the bouncing of his leg as the train car crowded up tighter and tighter between stops.
Finally though, they reached their spot and Elliot tugged on the leash, hurrying through the station and towards the office building where he worked, Willi trotting dutifully at his side.
Willi noted when Elliot fumbled with his key card at the swipe in, glancing up at Elliot to try and figure out where the sudden bout of clumsiness had come from.
And then Willi spotted him.
Him .
Mr. Chen, walking across the opposite side of the lobby, chatting with another group of other businessmen in a conversation that was too far away to make out.
He cut a striking figure--slick, fashionable suit and his gleaming black hair combed over to the side. He didn’t carry a coffee like the group of men surrounding him, making him stick out but in a good way--like everyone else was gathering around to hear his opinion, look for his guidance.
He was stoic, dark eyes flitting around to follow whoever was talking, calm and attentive and almost hard to read. He nodded along with the speaker, politely waiting until they had finished their point before offering his own, his words usually met with enthusiastic agreement and nodding from everyone else.
And as soon as Willi noticed Mr. Chen, he glanced back at Elliot, narrowing his eyes as he studied his owner.
The change in Elliot’s body language wasn’t even subtle.
He had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes watering a bit as his pupils flushed wide with arousal. His knees pulled in a little and his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding the ID he was scanning in the door, fisted in the hem of his shirt.
Willi huffed, getting ready to pick up the ID card if it managed to slip from Elliot’s hand.
To his credit, Elliot managed to pull himself together, shaking himself and dragging his eyes away from Mr. Chen as he and his group of colleagues called an elevator and then disappeared from view behind the gleaming silver doors.
He fumbled with his ID card, his fob of keys, the loop of Willi’s leash and harness, and his other bag of items.
He managed to hold onto everything though, pushing through the turntable and hurrying towards the elevators to call his own and head to his office.
He had an elevator to himself, Willi taking his usual spot tucked into the corner and watching Elliot fumble with the buttons and finally getting them to their destination.
“Coffee,” Elliot muttered to himself. “Fuck, I need coffee.”
As if he needed to add to his jittery, hyperactive energy. Willi wasn’t going to question it.
They dropped off the rest of Elliot’s bag and items in his cubicle, and then Willi followed him to the vending machine on the floor.
It was almost amusing to watch Elliot struggle with his credit card, swiping it in the machine and then punching in the numbers for a can of iced coffee.
Elliot fidgeted as he waited for it to drop, and Willi picked up on his shaky jitters, tucking himself close to Elliot’s heel to give his owner a bit of support.
Elliot groaned when the bottle fell against the glass and got stuck, needing an extra nudge if it was going to fall down into the bin. And that was what Elliot tried, slapping his hand against the plastic a couple times with no results before knocking against it harder.
Finally, he grabbed both sides of the machine, grumbling to himself as he tried to wrestle with it, muttering about how the day was already bad and how it was hard that it was getting worse. In the end, he ended up dropping to his knees, grunting as he rolled up his sleeves and nudged the plastic flap open, preparing to shove his arm up into the vending machine as deeply as he could to try and knock the can free.
It was Willi who heard the footsteps first, glancing down the hallway and spotting Mr. Chen strolling down the hallway.
He was focused on his phone, apparently just as unaware of Elliot as Elliot was unaware that his crush was fast approaching.
Willi considered alerting his owner, but it wasn’t a medical emergency. Not Yet.
So Willi sat back and waited to see how things would pan out.
Mr. Chen’s eyes slid slowly from the phone in his hand to the hunched body on its knees in front of him, and Willi watched an amused smile curve his lips.
“Elliot?” he asked, tucking his phone into his pocket to properly address his employee. “What are you doing down there?”
Elliot’s entire body went rigid, and Willi cocked his head, noticing the new wet spot on the front of Elliot’s pants.
“Mr. Chen!” Elliot exclaimed, his voice a squeaky mix of horror and delight.
He tried to shoot up quickly but his arm was lodged so far up the machine he ended up toppling backwards, sprawling on the floor with his legs spread wide. Willi frowned at the patch of wetness then, knowing that Elliot’s unattended cock was dripping into his pants already from the short interaction alone.
Mr. Chen just furrowed his eyebrows, settling his hand on the glass in front of the stuck drink, considering the problem.
“Is the machine stuck again?” he said with a sigh. “Here, let me take a look.”
He had to nudge Elliot aside with the tip of his shoe, and Elliot finally pulled his legs closed, a deep blush on his face as he cupped his hands protectively over his crotch, most likely to hide his shame.
Mr. Chen didn’t seem to notice. He tugged up his tailored suit pants an inch, giving himself more flexibility as he crouched down in front of the machine like Elliot had. He trailed his fingers down the plastic, testing it for any give every couple inches as he appraised the machine, and Elliot’s flushed lips parted in a soft gasp, eyes locked onto Mr. Chen’s hand.
Finally, Mr. Chen undid the buttons on his right cuff, rolling up the sleeve as he prepared to thrust his hand into the slot.
Elliot was practically mewling.
He had his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, eyes locked on the warm, muscular skin of Mr. Chen’s forearm that was slowly revealed as the man rolled up the fabric. Willi could see the bob of Elliot’s throat too, as drool no doubt flooded his mouth as Mr. Chen’s slim, dexterous fingers pressed against the plastic cover, slipping into the machine’s slot easily.
Elliot’s thighs shuddered, squeezing together tightly as Mr. Chen’s arm slid deeper inch by inch. Mr. Chen’s eyebrows pinched together as he concentrated, now up to his elbow in the machine.
Willi frowned, watching the gears spin out in Elliot’s head, no doubt throwing the slut into a dozen different scenarios where he was at the end of Mr. Chen’s fist and not some hapless vending machine.
“What drink were you trying to get?” Mr. Chen asked, his voice strained with the effort of the position.
“C-coffee,” Elliot managed to stutter, his voice cracking upwards in a desperate whine. His cheeks were flushed, and his fingers twitched between his thighs as he just barely held himself back from touching his caged cock.
Mr. Chen grunted in acknowledgement.
“I think I feel something,” he said.
There was another moment, and he shifted his weight, thrusting his arm in just another inch further.
The machine rocked from the force, jerking back before settling back on all four feet, giving the illusion of it bouncing on Mr. Chen’s forearm on its own accord. The plastic opened up so easily, only the angle of it making it bite into the flesh of Mr. Chen’s forearm. His other hand was braced gently against the front of the machine, almost petting the plastic as if that would lure the machine into giving up its prize.
“Got it,” he said triumphantly.
He eased his arm back, the skin flushed and red where the hard plastic edges had dug into it a bit too hard with his efforts. The tendons were tight, corded, and Mr. Chen had to roll his wrist to get the can of coffee in his fist at a good enough angle to pop out of the slot.
It clattered shut.
Mr. Chen settled back on his heels, turning the can over to appraise Elliot’s drink of choice next.
“You know, they have better cold coffee at the cafe down the block,” he said, finally offering the can to Elliot.
Mr. Chen sat casually and comfortably in the squat, elbows on knees, the can held loosely in one hand.
Elliot was nearly trembling, his own hand shaking as he reached forward to accept his coffee. He swallowed hard, eyes locked on the few inches of aluminum between his fingers and Mr. Chen’s, before he pulled the can to his stomach.
“O-Oh?” he asked, his voice still shaky and unsteady.
Mr. Chen just nodded, giving Elliot a warm smile. “You can’t miss the sign,” he said, gesturing presumably in the direction of the shop with two fingers. “If you go, tell the owners I sent you. I know them.” There was a twinkle in Mr. Chen’s eye, as if he were remembering a fond memory, and then he nodded. “They’re good people.”
Elliot didn’t even manage a response, his mouth slack and open as he studied Mr. Chen’s face openly, as if he couldn’t believe he was still having this one-on-one interaction with the man.
Mr. Chen either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge the slack-jawed look, or the way Elliot clung to the can of coffee like he had been given a treasured keepsake.
He just grunted, pushing himself back to his feet, towering over Elliot’s sprawled form. He straightened his pants, dusting down the front of his shirt, and then rolled his sleeve back down.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, stepping over Elliot’s legs as he continued walking down the hall.
And as he moved past Elliot, one hand drifted idly to his head, brushing through his hair ever so casually as he gave Elliot a good-by pat on his head.
And Willi rolled his eyes with a huff of annoyance as Elliot’s thighs jerked, spasmed once, and then fell open and limp.
He didn’t even need the dumb, dopey, drooling expression on Elliot’s face to know the slut needed medical attention.
He bullied in between Elliot’s legs, listening to the fading footsteps of Mr. Chen as he raised a paw, huffing as he gave his medical alert and waited for Elliot to comply.
It took another moment before Elliot was able to blink back to himself, and then another moment as he realized Willi was alerting.
His blush darkened, and he whipped his head around, scanning the hall as if terrified they would be spotted.
“N-not now!” he hissed, trying to push Willi away and pull his legs together. “Um . . . back in my cubicle. . . you can . . .”
But Willi was firm, narrowing his eyes and stubbornly giving his medical alert again, knocking his paw against Elliot’s knee.
He knew there was a slutty mess in Elliot’s underwear, his balls throbbing and desperate after such a short interaction with his current crush. Willi wasn’t going to take no for an answer until he saw the damage from the completely non-sexual conversation and righted Elliot’s mind.
Whimpering in defeat, Elliot finally complied, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away in shame as he peeled open his pants, undoing the zipper to give Willi access.
The front of his thong was soaked through.
Willi wasn’t gentle with his teeth, nipping at Elliot’s thighs until, with defeated whimpering and whining, Elliot finally pushed his pants fully down, letting his legs fall open and giving Willi full access.
Willi frowned at the mess. Elliot’s cock kicked in the cage every couple seconds, straining against the fabric of the thong, desperate for some sort of fucking or thrusting motion. Willi could see the sharp edges of the plastic, the fake ridge that hugged the glans and gave Elliot at least a little definition.
Willi growled sternly, and Elliot whimpered, stuffing a hand into his mouth as Willi’s breath no doubt swept over the wet cloth and gave him chills.
It was easy to catch a bit of fabric in his teeth, and Willi tugged the thong down, finally letting Elliot’s cock flop out into the open.
The flesh of it was as swollen as it could get, pressing against its plastic prison and fighting to get as hard as it could. It pulled away from the body, the plastic ring pulling Elliot’s balls forward as if presenting them for inspection.
It was all shiny with precum, a clear drop of it puckered at the tip of the cage, and begging for Willi’s mouth.
And Willi complied, planting his paws firmly on Elliot’s thighs. He dragged his tongue over it one big swipe, from tip to base, drawing out a needy whine from Elliot’s mouth.
His hips bucked upwards into the warmth, chasing after Willi’s tongue. And Willi engulfed his cock next, sucking the length and dragging his tongue over the taut bulges of Elliot’s balls.
It kicked in his mouth, the skin tightening in anticipation of stimulation, as if getting ready to cum from that alone. All Willi got was a squirt of precum across the hot flesh of his tongue, salty and sharp with Elliot’s desperation.
Elliot’s whimpers dissolved into breathy gasps, and then he was no longer fighting against Willi’s ministrations. His fingers curled through Willi’s hair, tugging his muzzle tighter against his crotch, trying to get as much of his caged cock into the hot mouth as possible.
His balls pulsed, over-producing cum that had nowhere to go except to get backed up behind his throbbing prostate.
Willi cleaned his cage with professional efficiency. He dug his tongue into the tip, working into the wrinkled foreskin and slurping at the flesh that bulged against the little openings and fought desperately against the chastity.
Elliot’s balls were the hottest, pouring off body heat where they were tucked into Willi’s cheeks, and when Willi hummed, they shuddered in time with Elliot’s squeaking mewls.
When Willi pulled off, Elliot’s cage flopping out of his mouth with a pop, now covered in slick saliva. Willi didn’t even bother looking up at Elliot’s face, not trusting those reactions from the slut.
Willi nosed under the cage, mouthing at the hot bulge of Elliot’s perineum. The flesh was shaved and smooth, a tempting target for Willi’s gnawing, corrective nips, but Willi only hesitated there for a moment, feeling Elliot’s thighs shudder around his head before he worked his slick, hot tongue against the furled entrance of Elliot’s ass.
And then Elliot’s moans turned deep and lustful.
His hips bucked, pushing his ass up to give Willi more and more access.
He had always loved when attention was more focused on his ass.
Such a bottom. Such a slut.
Willi was more than happy to oblige him, sure that working Elliot over for several long minutes might wring out the distraction of his own body just enough to allow him to focus long enough to get through the workday.
Elliot’s hole flexed, just as desperate as the rest of Elliot’s body. It loosened enough to let Willi’s tongue jab inside and lap against the slick muscle as Willi nipped at the flushed, swollen pucker.
Elliot gasped and whined, forgetting the fact that he was sprawled pathetically in a hallway of an office building instead of anywhere with any sort of privacy. He rode Willi’s muzzle with no abandon, dragging his ass across Willi’s tongue to feel the little puffs of air from Willi’s nose and then back down again.
His caged cock flopped against his thighs, leaving streaks of precum on his pale skin, his pathetic balls once again the most ignored part of his body.
Willi moaned, letting the vibrations tease Elliot further, allowing the slut buck against his face in a useless effort to chase an even more useless orgasm.
Willi didn’t stop until Elliot finally slumped back against the wall limp, biting back a whimpering sob as he lost the energy to hump Willi’s face any longer. He was panting, his scrawny chest heaving as Willi sat back on his haunches.
Willi swiped his tongue over his muzzle, rubbing off the worst of the wetness on the backs of his paws as he cocked his head and regarded Elliot’s slumped form.
Elliot’s pupils were blown wide, his gaze vacant as he stared off into nothing. His mouth was just as slack, and Willi could see the drool starting to pool on his limp tongue, threatening to spill over his lips and drip down his chin.
His cock had finally stopped fighting against the cage. The fat balls were still pulled up tight, and the flushed flesh had turned a darker shade of red, bordering on a painful purple, but it finally slumped limp against Elliot’s thigh, like Elliot was slumped against the walls of the hallway, passively dripping precum in the wake of Willi’s treatment.
Better than before.
Willi shuffled forward, nosing up Elliot’s neck, pressing his nose against Elliot’s cheek and then lapping at the corner of his mouth.
It was half a way to clean up the mess of Elliot’s drool and half a means of drawing Elliot back to his body.
It only took a moment before Elliot was moaning, slowly shifting underneath Willi as he finally became coherent again.
“Mmhm,” he groaned, bringing up a hand to scratch through Willi’s hair, ruffling his ears as he blinked his eyes and his vision cleared.
Willi pulled back after another moment, giving Elliot a stern look as if to ask, “Are you good, finally ?”
Elliot blushed, his situation and wanton behavior rushing back to him all at once. He was so easily flustered, like he was some sort of blushing virgin rather than a desperate slut that required a service pup like Willi.
Willi waited another moment, giving Elliot the chance to tuck his cock away and pull up his pants without the nosing help of his pup.
Elliot, to his credit, was quick to remember how inappropriate it would be to be found with his caged cock pulled out of his pants and his legs spread wide like a slut in the middle of his office.
With a squeak of horror and humiliation, he tucked his cock away, shivering as he pulled the chilled, still-wet fabric of his thong back into place. He shimmied his hips, pulling his pants up next, fumbling to push himself back to his feet before buckling them and doing up the zipper.
He untucked his shirt, pulling the tails down in an effort to hide the obvious wet spot on the front of his pants. The small breach in dress code was only marginally less unprofessional than having to give the reason why his crotch was wet.
Willi huffed as Elliot gripped his harness tight, leaning on his pup more than ever for a bit of support with his shaky legs.
Elliot blushed, avoiding looking down at Willi and meeting his judgmental look.
“Th-thank you, Willi,” he said.
Will would accept that.
He ducked his head, snagging the can of coffee off the floor as Elliot started to hobble back towards his cubicle.
He had almost forgotten his treat.