My Bullies - Chapter Fifteen

The view count on the burner post kept climbing on Diego’s phone screen—now past three hundred, likes ticking upward like a heartbeat—but Caleb suddenly raised a hand.

“Enough,” he said, voice low but final. “You three. Out.”

Mason blinked, mid-laugh. Tyler started to protest, but Caleb’s stare shut him down instantly.

“Now,” Caleb added, softer, more dangerous. “We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

There was a beat of surprised silence. Then shrugs, smirks, the scrape of chairs. Mason slapped Tyler’s shoulder on the way out, Diego pocketed his phone with a quiet nod, and the three of them filed through the door without another word. The latch clicked shut behind them.

The bedroom felt instantly smaller. Quieter. Thicker.

Ethan stood alone in the middle of the carpet, still completely naked, skin flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat and pre-cum. His cock jutted forward, dark and straining, the head slick and swollen, a slow, continuous drip falling from the slit to form a small wet spot between his bare feet. He didn’t dare cover himself. Didn’t dare move.

Caleb circled him slowly.

No hurry. No sound except the soft pad of his bare feet on the carpet and Ethan’s own uneven breathing.

Caleb’s finger started at the small of Ethan’s back—light, barely there—then dragged upward along the curve of his spine. Goosebumps erupted instantly, racing ahead of the touch like a shiver made visible. Ethan’s shoulders twitched; his cock jumped once, hard, leaking another thick bead that stretched and snapped.

Caleb kept moving. The fingertip traced the ridge of Ethan’s shoulder blade, then down the side of his ribs, slow enough that Ethan could feel every millimeter of contact. It skimmed the sensitive skin just under his armpit, then curved around to his chest—circling one tight nipple without touching it, then the other. Ethan’s breath hitched audibly. Goosebumps chased the finger in waves, prickling down his arms, across his stomach, along the backs of his thighs.

Caleb stopped behind him. Pressed close enough that Ethan could feel the heat radiating off his clothed body, the faint brush of sweatpants against the curve of his ass.

“You’ve got another choice,” Caleb murmured, lips close to the shell of Ethan’s ear. His finger resumed its path—down the center of Ethan’s stomach now, skirting the leaking cock without touching it, then back up again. “One last one tonight.”

Ethan swallowed. His voice came out hoarse. “What… what is it?”

“You can jerk off right here,” Caleb said, voice velvet and cruel. “Wrap your hand around that dripping cock and cum for me. Shoot all over the carpet like the desperate little slut you are. I’ll watch. I’ll let you finish.”

Ethan’s hips rocked forward involuntarily at the words, cock bobbing, more pre-cum spilling.

“Or,” Caleb continued, finger tracing the sharp line of Ethan’s hipbone now, “you choose to stay denied. No cumming tonight. No touching yourself when you get home. Balls full, aching, leaking all the way to your bed… and in return—”

He paused. Let the silence stretch.

“I’ll let you suck my dick.”

Ethan’s knees nearly buckled.

Caleb stepped in front of him again, close enough that Ethan could smell the clean sweat and faint body wash on his skin. He looked down at Ethan’s wrecked, trembling body, then met his eyes.

“Choose.”

Ethan’s mouth opened, closed. His cock throbbed so hard it hurt. He could feel the pulse in his throat, in his ears, everywhere.

“I… I want to suck you,” he whispered. The words came out small, cracked, but certain. “Please. I’ll stay denied. Just… let me suck you.”

Caleb’s smile was slow. Satisfied. Almost tender.

“Good boy.”

He took one step back.

Then he hooked both thumbs into the waistband of his loose gray sweatpants.

He didn’t rush.

He dragged the fabric down inch by torturous inch, the elastic catching for a second on the thick base of his cock before sliding past. The waistband cleared his hips, his thighs, and the shorts dropped to pool around his bare ankles.

His dick hung heavy between his legs—already chubbed, not fully hard but noticeably thicker and longer than soft, the head flushed a deep pink, foreskin partially retracted, a single bead of pre-cum glistening at the slit. It twitched once under Ethan’s wide-eyed stare, lifting slightly, veins beginning to stand out along the shaft.

Caleb stepped out of the shorts, kicked them aside.

He stood there barefoot, shirtless now too, cock level with Ethan’s chest.

He didn’t speak.

He simply looked down at Ethan, eyes dark and expectant.

Ethan’s mouth watered.