Work Text:
Genos didn’t like bringing up his personal life at work.
“What a catch you are,” they’d say. “You’re so handsome and smart. And a doctor too! How are you still single?”
It’s not that they were wrong. He was handsome and smart. He was a surgeon and an engineer. He had the nice car, the nice watch, the nice clothes. His flat didn’t just look expensive, it smelled and felt it too—because he took care of his things. He liked to pamper himself.
Or maybe he only did it because he didn’t have anyone else around to pamper.
Genos stood in his doorway, head hanging between his shoulders. This would pass. The feelings, the memories, the swirling dread and ache, it passed eventually. All he needed was to take a deep breath, and…and then another, and…
And he roughed up his hair for no one at all. It was a nervous habit he’d had for too long. He knew how dirty his hands were, he needed to stop putting them near his face.
He stepped inside and locked the door behind him, tucking his keys in his breast pocket before hanging up his coat.
Everything was alright. It was okay. For the rest of the day—for the next couple of days hopefully—he didn’t have to go back out. Call-ins had been manageable for a while now, and the appointment this morning went exactly as planned. He was worried Ms. Itai would aggravate her wrist from trying to use it too much, but the nurses were there. They could watch her.
He laughed as he got settled into sweats, thinking about how angry she’d been at how long everything was taking. “There’s a hand there,” she said, gesturing at the pictures of prosthetics on the pamphlet he gave her, “And I’m missing one. Just put it on already.”
It was funny, but that’s not what he was laughing at. It was that he completely understood what she meant.
Every time he saw the jagged scars crisscrossing his arms, he remembered being fifteen and glaring at them when they were still pink. He decided then that he’d stop wasting time slathering lotion all over his skin, since they had yet to disappear despite the couple of years he’d been tending to them.
He finished washing his face and tugged his sleeves back down.
He wasn’t sure if he regretted it. Those scars were a constant reminder that he never should have made it out of the wreck of the apartment complex alive, when everyone else died instantly or else months later after a steady, agonizing decline…
But Genos made it. He shouldn’t have, but he did, and now he needed to do as much as he could with the time he had. He had to earn it back, somehow.
He was getting there. Maybe. He thought he was, at least.
He hoped.
The fridge smelled of garlic and too many leftovers when he opened it. He grabbed a meatball sub and a green tea, trying not to think about how much of that food would go bad before he could eat it.
…Genos didn’t think he’d ever stop wishing he hadn’t rushed through everything, especially when he was younger. Back then, all he could focus on was graduating high school as quickly as possible, so he could graduate college as quickly as possible, so he could immediately secure a career in a well-known institute, where he’d start working on whatever innovations he’d dreamed up in his courses to stop anyone from ever having to go through what his family had before they...
He put the second half of last night’s dinner into the microwave and sighed.
Come to find out, there were some things you couldn’t get by doing them better and faster and more accurately than everyone else. You had to learn them through time and experience. Things like how to start a conversation with stranger, for example, or how to hang out with a friend, or…or how to ask to go out for a coffee some time…
He carried his reheated meatball sub into the living room and sat in front of a massive TV, sinking into his luxury mohair couch. Like everything else around him it was in pristine condition, if you didn’t count the indent of his body tucked into the corner of it.
He grabbed the remote to turn on Netflix, and did his best to turn off everything else.
It didn’t really work.
The living room felt too big today, too quiet, too open. He couldn’t bury himself deep enough into the couch to distract himself. He tried not to think about it, but…
The people who said he was good-looking, well-off, intelligent, successful—objectively they were right. It was supposed to be a complement, it was supposed to make him feel better. He’d never tell them that it left him feeling so much worse. It meant he had everything working in his favor, and he still couldn’t—he couldn’t—
He couldn’t what? Figure out how to make friends? How to flirt? To socialize?
Or was it that he couldn’t shake the constant fear that bubbled up every time he started to get close to someone?
Genos took a bite of the sub, barely tasting it. He’d completely lost track of the saké documentary.
People teased him for being a robot, with how cold and exacting he could be. They weren’t wrong there either. Even in his hobbies, when he journaled or worked out or went hiking, he did it as efficiently as he could. He liked making things more streamlined—it was a bit of a game to him, and he was good at it it. It made it that much harder to play with others though, and when he already had trouble finding the others to play with…
Genos crumpled up his napkin and threw it on his plate. This was ridiculous.
For the past two hours he’d been trying tried to zone out on documentaries Netflix suggested to him, and he could barely process them because his inner demons couldn’t shut their shitty mouths for two goddamned seconds. Enough was enough.
He needed a fucking break.
Genos pitched his plate into the garbage and stormed over to his closet. He needed something nice, something that made him feel more…in control, he supposed. He went for the basics—black button-down, black dress slacks, a pristine black belt, all of it brand name and tailored to better suit him. He looked ethereal in it. So much inky dark next to his blonde hair and pale skin and unnervingly blue eyes…
No one would see him wearing it, but he’d know, and that would be enough.
He poured a glass of Amaretto, grabbed his phone, and sat in his desk chair in front of his computer.
The phone buzzed when he plugged it in to charge. For the umpteenth time he double-checked that there were no missed messages from the hospital, and for the umpteenth time, there weren’t.
That small relief cascaded like a waterfall down his spine. He closed his eyes and focused on it, making space for it to grow, trying to shut out everything else.
…He knew he was running away, to an extent. It was cowardly of him, and maybe a little pathetic, that he turned to something like this instead of simply talking to people like Kuseno kept on telling him to. It didn’t solve anything. It didn’t fix the problems that were leaving him so frustrated. It was a band-aid on a boat leak when he needed to refurbish the entire ship.
On the other hand though, as a socially inept twenty-something with a six figure salary who did practically nothing in his free time…he had quite a lot of frustration pent up, and more than enough means to buy as many band-aids as he damn well pleased.
He typed the first couple letters of the site into the search bar and it automatically filled out the rest. The front page bloomed with thumbnails, each showing a different model in the middle of their show. His eyes darted to and fro across them all.
He could make any of their nights with a single donation, should he choose to, and the thought satisfied him in a way that could only be described as primal.
Genos liked helping people. He wanted to make things better for them. The world was awful, and he tried his best to lift up the ones who were beat down by it. It’s why he devoted himself to the field of prosthetics and trauma recovery. It wasn’t fair that so many things could go wrong for someone, after they had already gone so wrong.
It didn’t always work that way, though.
Sometimes you made it worse even if you did everything perfectly. Sometimes they blamed you for things you never did. Sometimes it went better than you could have expected, but you didn’t hear about it until years later when you’d forgotten everything about them except that someone sent them lilies, once.
But he liked helping people. He loved making them happy.
And luckily there was one thing that was always, always guaranteed to make people happy, and that could not be more instantly gratifying.
Genos scrolled through the first couple pages of streams. He popped into a few chats, leaving twenty dollars here and fifty there, trying to feel them out…but then they tried to talk to him and he realized he wasn’t in the mood. He was too far in his own head for anything new tonight. He wanted reliable, and comfortable, and something—someone he was well-acquainted with.
Baldnbored was on, like usual.
Sai was already well into it. He’d been wearing strappy black underwear and a top, if that’s what the jumbled mess on the bed was, but it was off him now. All that was left was bare skin, smooth and toned and looking terribly soft, rippling over a powerful body that looked all the more statuesque for its owner’s lack of hair. Well, beyond the well-maintained happy trail, that was.
He was playing with his chest and sucking off a dildo, languid and slow, talking with the chat between breaths. He must have already been asked to be a bit rough with it, given how pink and sore his nipples looked. When Genos first tuned into this stream a year ago, the quality was poor enough that he wouldn’t have been able to tell, but…
That’s why he sent him the camera, after all. And paid for him to get a better Internet connection.
And actually, now that he was looking at that toy…
“Oh! Oh, hey Doc. Nice of you to come by.”
Genos smiled. Sai always made it a point to say hello to him when he joined. He didn’t have to, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.
It’s my pleasure, Genos typed. I wouldn’t want to miss anything.
Sai failed to hide a grin as his viewers exploded into activity. Some pleaded with him for one last request before the “rich dudes” took over, some egged Genos into getting started, many sent eye emojis and nothing else.
The model popped the dick out of his mouth to laugh. “It’s alright, guys—don’t worry. I’m here all night. I’ve got time.”
Genos watched the messages roll by.
TRfuck67: not when dr gets started
xxTofuBlockxx: DOCTOR PLS BE MY DADDY
Joejoejoejoe9: I wish I could afford 1 of the Play times . . .
TRfuck67: ur mom could
Sai stopped paying attention to the chat—he always happened to get swept up in whatever he was doing when his watchers bickered, and Genos suspected it was so they could work it out between themselves—and started sucking off the dildo in earnest.
He was good at it. He was patient, unhurried, steady… He did it like he had nowhere else to be. He let it sink all the way in between his lips, shutting his eyes when it reached what must have been his throat, and pulling it back out with little buds in the corner of his smile.
Genos ran his fingers down his own length as Sai worked.
Is that Jeeves? He asked, unsure if Sai would notice.
He did. “Heh… Yeah, it’s Jeeves. Figured I’d take it for a test run, you know?” Sai gave the tip another kitten lick and said, “By the way, you guys can still send whatever to my PO Box. I get the stuff picked up—well, a little more now, but at least once a week.”
Genos didn’t need a reminder about sending gifts, nor an answer to his question. He knew both because he’d mailed him that model—one on the cutting edge of technology, sleek and beautiful, made of silky silicone and weighty metal bits. He’d also sent him those Egyptian sheets Sai was unmaking and the plush pillows he was about to lay on, along with countless other things he’d shown off to his viewers time and time again.
There was a not-so-small chance Genos was the reason Sai was making that many stops to his PO Box.
“I’m about ready guys… Better get in there if you want me to attempt to twerk.”
The coin icon below Sai’s username pulsed, sprinkling dozens of other tiny coins. The meter for tips rose and cleared several goals—hand job, ahegao, butt plug (small), tell a knock-knock joke. They were always different, and many of them were included purely because Sai thought they were funny. Genos fully understood the marketability of such options, but still. It was charming nonetheless.
Genos held back for the most part…but he did give the final push to clear “face-fucking.” He kept his tips public and the chat thanked him for it.
Sai grinned as he leaned closer to the screen. “Doc always comes in to save the day, doesn’t he? What a hero. What else do we have to do then, huh…?”
It was a little unnerving to be spoken to so directly in a place he was meant to be anonymous, but him and Sai had…well, a bit of an arrangement. There was a reason Genos’ handle in chat was “DoctorDaddy,” and why he knew to call the man “Sai” in the first place. Genos didn’t think it was his real name, but that was fine. Genos didn’t need to know his real name.
He just needed to be able to spoil him rotten.
It was another half an hour or so until Sai had fulfilled most of his chat goals. Genos did his best to hold off during it. Sai didn’t truly get started until the more serious challenges later on, but he couldn’t help it. The gentleness in his voice when he’d laugh, his constant stream of jokes regardless of what he was doing…the openness of his body as he moved, ground, danced… It put Genos so at ease that he found himself nearly there before he pulled his zipper down.
He desperately needed this.
After a particularly deep thrust, Sai leaned forward on the bed and put Jeeves down. It sunk into the folds of the blankets. “I can open up Playtime now, yeah? What do you guys think? Uh… Two minute ones first. Level one… Actually, one and two.”
Sai had a surprisingly sophisticated system for his stream. At first (and sporadically throughout the rest of the night) it would be par for the course—a certain number of net donations would mean he would do some act, so you could conceivably buy whatever you’d like by tipping enough. When he opened Playtime, though, only one user could control what was going on, and they were allowed to choose from a list of activities, ranging in levels of intensity. Of course it was far more expensive than typical tips, and within that were several different tiers—both with how long you had to play, and the kind of control you had. You could pay for Sai to use an electronic toy, for example, and have your hand on the virtual remote, or you could roleplay back and forth, or any number of things. The options changed constantly, and his stream’s layout would be updated to match.
It was complicated enough that it didn’t seem it should run so smoothly, despite Sai having very limited interaction with his equipment during his shows. The comments were also unusually pleasant for an online chat. He could have been a prodigy at computer management and word filtering, but Genos suspected he was getting help for a while.
When they had a conversation months ago about the newest Playtime tier, Genos’ suspicions were confirmed.
It was a man named King. He handled almost everything on the technical end. It must have been a great deal of work, but from the way King talked, it seemed effortless.
Genos also realized from the way he talked that he already knew him. Or more accurately, from the way he sounded. That new tier was a call-in feature, Talk-to-Push, where you could dictate what happened simply by telling Sai to do it over the stream. King was the first to test it live.
Genos had no idea what he looked like, but when King told Sai to put his head to the bed and spread his legs, Genos literally doubled over his desk. He didn’t think it was possible for someone’s voice to be that deep and commanding. It certainly shook up the “cool, calm, collected” persona Genos slipped into for the shows.
Needless to say, he was intimidated (and a little turned on) when the two of them asked to talk to him about the tier.
“We’ve got some friends lined up for it, but I think it would be fun to let viewers get in on it too. It’s kinda exciting, you know? Spices it up.”
They were on a video call, the same kind they used for private chats…but this time there were three members instead of two. Sai was still the only one with video, though. Genos hadn’t begun turning on his camera by that point.
King’s box glowed as his voice rumbled through the speakers. “But it can’t be just some guy at first. We need to set a precedent so people know what they can do, and what they can’t. Shame is the best mod.”
“King’s actually the one who suggested you.”
Genos was surprised. “O-oh? Thank you for thinking of me, but… Why…” He tried and failed to come up with a polite way to ask if it was because he was spending the most money.
“Have a hunch, is all.”
Genos didn’t like the way he said that, at all. He didn’t like it enough that he immediately wondered if his VPN was working the way it was supposed to.
“I think so,” came Sai’s add-on. “And you’d be perfect, dude. You sound like you narrate racy romance novels for a living.”
Genos was flattered when he said that, embarrassingly so, especially after having heard King speak. He wasn’t sure if he could compare.
It was a relief then, after the first time trying it on his own, to see so many people in the chat begging DoctorDaddy to message them.
It made his heart flutter a little. He didn’t know what to make of that.
That fluttery feeling never quite went away. It stuck around each time he added to Sai’s ever-increasing viewercount and saw the cacophony it caused when people noticed his name, or the egregious amount of money other people spent on Sai trying to outdo the infamous Doctor…
It got him riled up, of course, but it made him happy. It made him proud. It made him want to live up to that reputation.
So he did his best to help Sai’s efforts.
Genos wouldn’t ever step up to the plate first. The most he’d do when Playtime opened up was leave tips and enjoy what others put Sai through. Everyone knew DoctorDaddy would take over at some point—he didn’t need to barrel into it. He could let the tension build.
And after all, Sai could handle an incredible amount. He wouldn’t get tired out before Genos got his turn.
He’d always start slow with prep and massaging, fingering himself until he was mewling into his pillows, jacking off soft and easy ‘til his precum stained his sheets. Maybe someone would pay for him to spread his ass cheeks for the camera and beg Master to fill him up. Maybe their names disappeared from the chat while they reached their hands into their pants, like Genos’ did.
It would pick up from there.
Some wanted it straightforward, just a good ride on meaty silicone cock, while Sai looked straight into the camera and moaned. Him being loud was a popular request. He was so easygoing and soft-spoken that it was exhilarating to hear him cry out, or to think that—when you were in the driver’s seat—you were the one making him cry out.
Some wanted to stuff him. Admittedly, this one was more a feat than anything—and as a person who’d regularly host games like tic-tac-toe or hangman, Sai approached it with the same competitive spirit. His fans had yet to find an upper limit to what he could handle. He fisted himself regularly, and would use multiple toys at once. Curiously designed dildos the size of his thigh weren’t unusual. He took it all on with gusto, treating it like it was any other game…until his eyes rolled back into his head and you’d watch whatever it was sink into him inch by inch, hanging onto every desperate little pant he gave as he pushed closer to the edge, hoping you could hold off long enough to finish at the same moment he did.
Some wanted denial, to the point where he was crying in frustration. Some wanted overstim to the same end. Sometimes those two groups would tag team, paying to have him bound and coming dry on a high-powered vibrator one turn only to demand he replace the cock ring with a Bluetooth pocket pussy the next, before starting the cycle all over again.
There would be cooldowns, after those sessions. They were in one now. Sai would do nothing but lay on the bed, chest heaving and toes twitching, while he mumbled back at the chat.
“Rider… My guy… You’re kinda rough with the fleshlight, you know?”
CumminRider sent a blushing emoji and typed, sorry about that…
“Yeah, yeah… Fuck,” he breathed, smirking into the camera, “’m so sure you are.”
More messages came through—encore! encore! and how re you stil going and many, many frantic requests. They were highly aware that Doctor hadn’t pitched in yet despite watching for a couple of hours.
Genos felt a bit of pressure, he could admit it. Especially since he’d paid for Talk-to-Push.
He shook his head and knocked back his drink. It almost hurt to tuck himself into his underwear when he was still so hard, but he did it, right before smoothing his still-open shirt into his pants, zipping them up, and slipping his belt closed. You couldn’t tell as he undid it all again later (everything but the belt at least, for some reason the mic always picked that up), but it left him more confident than he had been. It was like he was more present in the space, somehow.
Sai squinted at the screen before flopping back into the sheets. “Almost at the end now, huh? There’s still one more left, though… The meter’s freezing in five minutes, guys, so if you want me to wear the cowboy get-up and ride the horse dick, you’ve got some way to go.” He gave a little fist pump from his prone position. “I think you can do it. I believe in you.”
Genos took a deep breath.
“I guess then… Doc, it’s your turn, isn’t it?.”
The donation icon was a constant shower of coins as everyone raced to reach goals the before the cutoff. They wouldn’t make it, but they were sure as hell trying. The chat was a flurry of activity as it waited for the last Playtime to start.
Threewolvessonatshirt: Awshit, here we go again
AlexDrapezzz: OUT OF TISSUIES
Sicktrixbro: Dadddyyyyyyyy
Joejoejoejoe9: bored you should call me doc
Joejoejoejoe9: I mean daddy
deadordead666: Ynot both
Genos turned on his mic and readjusted his headset. “It certainly is.”
xxTofuBlockxx: OH MY GOD HE’S TALKING
_1_2_3_sunflower: Who the fuck is this guy does he do radio
Truckfuck 67: Cant we get morechicks doing this tho
Truckfuck67: That one was so hot
Genos laughed, let them listen and he breathed in. He started to say Sai’s name before he caught himself. He was getting better at that. “Baby, are you alright?”
Sai nodded and dragged his body off the bed. “Yeah… Should be.”
“Alright. Drink water, then. And clean yourself.”
The chat teased him for getting soft, but Sai gave an apprehensive half-smile. He knew what was in store when Genos asked stuff like that. “I’m just gonna get dirty again,” he retorted, taking a sip from a water bottle.
“I know,” Genos answered, looking at his end of the Jeeves interface. “But it’s better that you start fresh, because I’m going to leave you absolutely filthy.”
Sai sputtered and coughed. Genos would agree, if he was on the receiving end—he didn’t talk like this, ever. He didn’t know where it came from.
“Alright, Dad.”
“What’s my name?”
Sai sheepishly wiped his chest off on one of his blankets. “…Daddy…”
“Mm…” He leaned back. His chair was made of leather, which was all good and well—but more importantly it sounded like it was made of leather, and he knew everyone else could hear it when he moved. “Good boy.”
The man on screen was so worn out is was hard to tell if he was blushing, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he was. Genos was pushing his limits and he knew it. He kept on glancing down at his personal chat with King to see the warning flag when it popped up.
None came.
He looked back to Sai. “And you’ll keep on being a good boy for me,” he asked, “So I can keep on rewarding you?”
Sai glared at the screen. Genos took that as his answer.
“Right. Well then…grab your new toy, and lay back on your pillows. Put your legs out. I want to see all of you.”
The poor man was shaking, and even though Genos felt bad for it, it was exactly how he wanted him. He was excited to test out the program King had made. Sai didn’t know about it, but King guaranteed he’d be happy once he did.
The chat could feel the anticipation in Genos’ words.
Wantsummmfuk: Im spent but I dont want to leave
Joejoejoejoe9: You think he’s realy a dr
Sicktrixbro: Every time he does this shit I think I squirt a little
Deadordead666: Get wrecked bored
Deadordead666: ganbatteee
When Sai was in position—loose and comfortable, his abused ass on display and still wet from his last go—Genos leaned in.
“Excellent,” he purred, “You look so good like this… You deserve all these fans, don’t you think? Doesn’t everyone else think?”
The chat responded with a wave of tips. Sai looked…overwhelmed.
Genos understood why, but he didn’t stop. At this point he didn’t know if he could. “I think you do. You deserve all of it, for working so hard for us. Now touch yourself—slowly. Finger yourself open for me.”
He did it immediately, body slack and movements languid. There was no resistance or effort there—only slick and pleasure, only a little pout as he worked himself back up.
Genos cupped his sack and started massaging. “You’re doing so good… Look at me. Look straight at me.”
He did, eyes still focused and clear. He was tired, but not far gone.
Genos would fix that.
“Beautiful… I want to see you play with your new toy. Fill yourself up.”
You could feel the heft in it as he picked it up. Genos worried for a moment it would have lost its charge, but it should be fine.
“It’s big,” Sai said, lubing it up and pressing the tip close.
Genos bit his cheek. They both knew it was far smaller than his biggest toys. “M-hm…but you can handle it, you’re strong. Spread your legs wider too. I want to watch it slip inside you.”
And he did, and Genos started to rub himself off through his pants. When he talked like this, dictated like this… He remembered again that this was a show, that it was purely performance and fun, but it was so hard not to pretend that it was his own cock sliding inside him like that, bit by bit by bit…
That was the point, though, wasn’t it? To get lost in it, caught up in it…
“Good boy—more. You’re almost there.”
Sai gave a pitiful whine and continued pushing.
“Keep going.”
He slipped further down on his sheets.
Genos was leaking onto his slacks. “A little more…”
One last little gasp, and it sunk home. Genos listened to him pant there, watched him clench over the base, marveled at how tight and hot it looked. He could only imagine…
He leaned back once more, unhitching his belt. He saw Sai’s dick twitch at the unmistakable click-click, and the chat echoed the reaction.
Genos couldn’t help but be flattered. “So good for me,” he said, “So obedient. I think you’ve earned a treat.” He swallowed back a grunt as he freed his dick from his briefs. They had strong rules about that—you could make some noises, but you couldn’t broadcast your own orgasm—so Genos had to be careful. “Do you know how that works? Your new toy?”
Sai lifted a hand and wobbled it back and forth. “I think… You can choose what it does, can’t you?”
“Just about…” Lazily stroking with one hand and guiding the mouse with the other, Genos scanned over the settings one more time. “You can customize it too. There are so many settings. For example…”
He clicked the “VIBRATE” button and got chills Sai arched in front of him.
“A simple vibration, or…”
He picked the “ROTATE” choice next, and Sai let out a little gasp-laugh. “I remember this o-one.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. You can also…”
There was a piston action as well. He didn’t think anyone had activated it yet, judging by the look on Sai’s face when he clicked on it.
“O-oh—”
Wasabistory: Whats giong on
Threewolvesonatshirt: The fuck is this thing
LizMacer16: Jeeves? Is that the toy? I want one…
LizMacer16: What’s happening?
Genos read the chat. “Well? Will you answer them? Can you tell them what it’s doing?”
Sai wriggled on the bed. “It’s—it’s hard, to tell, ‘cause—mmf…”
Genos cranked a dial and Sai whined. “You need to speak up.”
“It’s—it’s—is it fucking me?”
Genos relaxed back to enjoy the show for a moment. “Ha, ha… Say it again.”
“It’s f-fucking me…” He sunk down into his mattress. “What the hell is this…”
“That’s right, baby. That’s right. It is fucking you,” he said, relishing in the steady pump of his own hand. “Do you like it?”
“Y-yeah—yeah, shit—”
“Hm… I don’t have that much time, though. Only…twenty-five minutes left?”
The chat exploded, both with new fans who didn’t realized how much DoctorDaddy spent, and ones who complained they’d never be able to afford the same. That long of a session was $3,000, specifically because Sai didn’t think anyone would choose it.
Genos chose it whenever he was available.
“Let’s get into it, then.” He dragged the personalized menu next to the standard one. “You can make different programs for it, you know. And I think you deserve a special one, designed just for you…”
Under the toy’s power menu, Genos clicked the button with bright red 1 on it, and a little chime rang mere moments before his the tip icon pulsed. Sai jumped.
Genos double-checked that the chat meter was frozen for the night. If it hadn’t been, he was about to blow it out of the water.
“That was five dollars. And this…” He clicked another button, this one with a red 2. Another set of chimes went off and Sai jumped higher. “This is ten dollars. What do you think fifty dollars feels like?”
Sai gave a nervous chuckle, one that was almost immediately cut off when Genos clicked on the 3. The strangled moan intermingled with another chime.
“Does it feel good?”
“Y-yeah—wow, I—”
Genos dropped his voice. “What do you think two hundred dollars feels like?”
Right as Sai started to ask “what,” Genos clicked the on the big red 5 and he screamed.
It took a lot for Genos not to finish right there and then…but he wasn’t even close to done.
“For another fifty, I can change modes.”
He clicked it back to “VIBRATE,” and Sai relaxed. He clicked it to “VIBRATE AND ROTATE,” and he squirmed. He clicked “SET ALL,” and he spasmed frantically, alternating between laughter and groans while the sound of tinkling bells played on under him.
“What—what, fuck—what is that? Is it—” A gasp, him digging his nails into his thighs. “Is it getting bigger?”
Genos clicked it over to vibrate again, putting it on his lowest setting, and Sai collapsed onto the bed. “It is. Only the best for you.”
The chat was trying to get information on what the actual model was, but Genos largely ignored it by this point. He spoke a little softer, enough so that Sai understood he was talking directly to him. “Do you know how much you’ve made in just…” He checked the time. “Eight minutes?”
Sai buried his back into the mattress. “Not—not really—”
He lowered his voice again. “Three-thousand, four-hundred and seventy dollars.”
The man grinned in delight and disbelief, unable to help himself. Genos increased the vibration setting before he could say anything. “Sorry—three-thousand, four-hundred and eighty. My mistake.”
He pinged the five dollar option with a metronome’s rhythm, making it pulse. The pot of how much he spent was steadily increasing, and he could not wait for Sai to see it at the end of the night.
He looked back to the stream. “Do you want more, baby?”
“Y-yeah, yes—”
“Good boy. Sit up for me.”
When he went to move, Genos reset it to pumping at mid-speed, and Sai flopped back down.
“Having trouble?”
He glared at the camera, but this time it had so much less heat in it. “N-no. I c-can…” He let out a whimper as he sat up.
“So sweet… Back the way you were, I want to see you. And don’t you dare close your mouth.” He set Jeeves to its lowest setting, and Sai’s shoulders shook. “Let us hear you.”
“O-okay,” he muttered, abs flexing as he tried to focus.
Genos could feel his orgasm creeping up. He was trying to stave it off, allowing himself nothing more than featherlight caresses around his base, along the shaft, ghosting across the head. He was leaking constantly, now.
So was Sai.
“What did you say?” Genos asked, increasing the setting with another ding from the bell.
“O-oh! O—Okay, alright—”
“What was that?” Ding.
“Y—Yes! y—yes—”
“Hm?” Ding.
“F-fuck! Yes!”
“I couldn’t quite make that out.” Ding. Ding.
Dingdingdingding.
There was no answer back this time—only Sai singing on the bedsheets, clutching onto his pillows with a white-knuckled grip.
If his earlier session was rough, Genos made sure this one was brutal. He would constantly switch between modes and intensities, building Sai up to a climax only to rip it away at the last moment, restarting it as soon as he began to catch his breath. Genos made him peak minutes in and had him pull out the pocket pussy right away. After he came the second time, he started to clench his teeth over his shouts, and Genos paid the hundred bucks to have him wear an open-mouthed gag.
“Of-f course you go for this-s,” he huffed, struggling to attach it while he was still being toyed with.
Genos was painfully hard, and appreciated the break as much as he wished he could steamroll through to the end. He’d already come twice. He didn’t have the same stamina as Sai—if he did it for a third time, he’d be done for the night. “I have my preferences. And I like to hear you…especially as I make you come undone from the inside out.” Genos lowered the toy to its weakest setting as Sai lifted the gag to his mouth. “One last thing—”
Sai eyed up the camera.
“Say my name before you can’t anymore.”
He lifted a plug to his mouth like a cigar. “Eh…what’s up, Doc?”
Genos guffawed in a decidedly unsexy way before he could cover his mic.
“No, no,” he sighed, coming back into the role. “I want you to say my name.”
Sai put the plug down and focused on the floor. He mumbled so quietly Genos could barely make out what he said.
Genos checked for any warnings from King before he tried again.
“Look at me when you say it this time.”
Sai was bright red when he looked up. “Daddy…”
It took everything left in Genos to not come violently at that moment. You could hear it in his voice. “Good boy. Now put on the gag.”
He did, and laid back down. Genos gradually increased the toy’s settings again, enormously pleased for his choice when he could hear every rise in the pitch and desperation of Sai’s cries.
He checked the clock. There were about four minutes left in his slot.
He sent King a message to ask, Is he alright?
Yeah.
Is the sign the same?
Sorta. He holds onto the bed post by the window when he can’t talk. He’s not close to it though.
For a brief moment Genos wondered just how far Sai could be pushed. Thank you.
A bit over three minutes, now.
Genos drummed his fingers on the mouse. “Are you ready?”
Sai groaned, and that was as good an answer as any.
For the next 180 seconds, the bell did not stop chiming once. Genos would scale through settings, rolling through them like they were piano keys, watching Sai’s body writhe around each one. He told him to keep his legs open, stay spread, stay looking at him, but Sai was barely coherent. His eyes were tears and fog, his chin was dripping with spit, his chest was shining with his own cum and sweat. When his dick peaked out from the fleshlight, it looked red and abused, exactly like his tight little hole.
Genos told him to keep on going. Not to stop. Not to stop for even a second.
When Sai’s voice started to fail him, Genos dropped his own to a murmur. “You’re so good for me baby, you know that? You’re so good…” He was unbearably close now, and he couldn’t hold on— “So good—so p-perfect to spend all your Daddy’s cash on—”
He managed enough composure to demand, deep and loud and domineering— “Do not look away from the camera."
And when he whipped off his mic, as he pumped into his own hand and strained back in his chair against the tightness in his chest, his belly, his legs, while he stayed desperately focused on the gorgeous man falling apart around the magic metal cock buried inside him, that he’d bought for him—
Sai’s voice echoed through his room as one last orgasm clawed its way out of him, and Genos answered it with a guttural cry of his own.
He took a moment to sit, to breathe…to wait for his pulse stop beating so hard on his eardrums…
And to snap a quick selfie of the mess he made of his own hand and belly, to send with thanks later.
He sounded utterly ragged when he put his mic back on. The chat liked it, but most importantly…he hoped that Sai did. He didn’t have to, but…
“You did…so good…”
Sai groaned as Genos let the toy die down, leaving it on its mildest setting as his timer ran out.
“So good for your Daddy,” he finished, flipping off his mic. He shot King a short message to let him know he was done for the night.
xxTofuBlockxx: God I wish that were me
MSortsi: Daddy ar ou single? You so fucking hot
Joejoejoejoe9: How much do you think we’d have to pay to get them in a video together
_1_2_3_sunflower: Not to be creepy or anything but can I put a baby in either of you
Sai’s hand flopped about on the cover as he came to. Groggily he pulled at the dildo’s base, giving the most heart-wrenching little “ah” when it slipped out of him. It was at least a minute before he could raise his head to check the chat.
“Y… Yeah… Yeah I don’t know…” He whumped back down and didn’t look back up. “Guys… Guys I’m sorry, but… I can’t do another one. Doc fuckin’ wore me out, and the rest of you too…” He tapped the toy after failing to pick it up. “This thing’s demon spawn, holy shit.”
Genos would have loved to take that to heart (and he did somewhat believe him) but Sai would say that most shows. He always managed to fulfill every goal he missed, though. He was a professional after all. It was just one of those nights where he’d be a bit more out-of-it as he completed them.
It made Genos happy, to think he’d be part of getting him there. He was happy too that he’d helped make his bed more comfortable to sleep in and recover once it was all over. He hoped the sheets were warm enough for him… He’d ask another day.
The energy in the stream was dying down to match its sleepy star. All that was going on was mostly idle back-and-forth, this time about whether or not various interplanetary space teams could have a pet. Genos didn’t talk much during these kinds of conversations, but he enjoyed reading and listening to what everyone had to say.
About half an hour later Sai announced that it was time to go. Genos wished him goodnight along with everyone else.
The show ended and Genos pushed his chair back from the computer.
It was about four in the morning. He didn’t have work tomorrow, luckily—he wouldn’t have joined for as long if he did—but he was still exhausted. He needed to get to bed if he was going to be anything more than a zombie on his days off.
…He also needed to sleep off the whole-buddy buzz he got from spending upwards of eight grand in a single night.
It wasn’t that he was in trouble because of it. He started putting money aside specifically so he could do things like this, and he’d probably be fine regardless. It was just that…well, despite being set for the conceivable future, he couldn’t shut up the part of him that panicked when he spent chunks of cash on anything.
Maybe that’s why he liked it so much…
He stretched and picked up his phone. The floor creaked as he walked down his hallway, mindlessly scrolling through apps and checking one more time to make sure he didn’t miss any messages.
He hadn’t heard anything from work, but there was one unread notification on Link.
It was Sai.
Thanks, man. Like. Thanks. A lot. Really
Genos ruffled his hair and smiled. He’d seen it, then. It was my pleasure, he wrote back. Thank you for letting me join you.
There was a long enough pause that Genos assumed the conversation was over and he went to the bathroom. He was on the toilet when the next one came.
What the hell is that thing? Did King do that?
He laughed. It’s not actually a consumer model. You have a proof-of-concept. And…I may have had some help.
That bastard. But really? It’s special?
One-of-a-kind.
He put his phone on the counter, wiped, and flushed.
It was when he started washing his hands that he realized how weird this all was. People didn’t talk about this kind of stuff while doing their business, right? Or…or was it not as big of a deal as it was made out to be? And…shit, now that he was thinking about it…
It was probably excessive to send exclusive sex toys to your sugar baby, wasn’t it? Was this a roundabout way for Sai to say he was being creepy? He couldn’t blame him if it was. The fact that Genos had a sugar baby made him kinda…out there. Probably. More than he already was, at least. Had he broken some kind of protocol without knowing it?
He jumped when the Link bell went off next to him.
You really didn’t have to do that…but it’s fucking incredible
Genos dried his hands and let out a long, slow breath. Maybe Sai wasn’t upset with him. I know some people, he typed. It wasn’t that hard. Please don’t worry.
There was a long pause again, this one interrupted with several sets of ellipses. Genos worried until a lol came through...after which he worried much harder.
It got worse when the ellipses kept on popping up.
Eventually Genos relented to sleep, changing back into his sweatshirt and snuggling into bed. Sai must have hit a key by mistake and put his phone down. No matter how anxious it made him to ignore it, it was pointless for Genos to wait up in case he sent another message.
…At least that’s what he thought—until his phone startled him awake at 5 AM with another message.
I don’t believe I’m doing this but your really cool. Wanna like, talk for real?
Genos stared at the screen, not comprehending. Do you want to video chat?
I mean sure, but not for camming. Well kinda. But mostly just talking.
The whole world felt like it had been put on pause. Genos couldn’t tell if he was still half-asleep.
On the phone?
He felt like an idiot as soon as he sent it.
Yeah, why not. Or here. Or maybe you can meet me and King somewhere, I don’t know. He thinks you’re pretty cool too. You said you’re by the new docks right?
Genos stared even harder. He was certain this was happening, but it felt so surreal. He couldn’t tell if the warbling in his stomach was building excitement or anxiety making him feel like he was ready to self-detonate.
It was probably both.
I did, he said, And I would love to.
He was a fool. Sai was a fool. Why were they doing this. You don’t meet people from offline, or at least not ones that paid to watch you—or let you pay to watch them—
Was this a job offer? A scam? Did he actually just want to talk?
Great! Great. Just don’t show up and like abduct us and slice us up, lol
Genos thought about his to-go bag by the closet. Technically I’m capable of it, but I promise that I won’t.
…He shouldn’t have sent that. It sounded like a threat. Or maybe a warning? It was supposed to be a dark joke, but Sai started it, so maybe—
Huh?
Genos fingers shook as he typed. He wanted to explain, but he also wanted to maintain what little illusion of anonymity he had left…
Oh, screw it. Screw it! Sai knew what he looked like, what he sounded like. What his apartment looked like. Genos had a habit of standing out, Sai would have found him by this point if he really wanted to. Genos had a feeling King knew who he was anyway—he’d said too many things that were far too convenient over the past couple of months.
He gulped down what might as well have been a mouthful of rocks and answered. I’m a surgeon.
Wait, for real? You’re a ~doctor~doctor?
Yes
Shit. Just thought you had a degree and rich parents or something
Genos looked at the message, wondering at the tightness in his lungs. Not exactly. A family friend took me in and put me through school, but my family wasn’t well off.
No kidding. Good on that friend though. Make a big difference to have someone like that in your corner
Genos was relieved Sai didn’t ask why he said his family wasn’t well off, or why he needed to be taken care of in the first place. It does. I’m enormously lucky to have him in my life.
After he sent it, he noticed too that this…this was how people talked, right? This was how things went? It didn’t feel like a transaction, it felt like…
What did you go to school for?
Genos’ heart started to sneak its way into his throat.
I could tell you both in a group chat if you’d like, he typed, cheeks blazing. Tomorrow I’m free.
His bed felt far too hot as he tacked on one last question. He didn’t read it over until it had already been sent.
And after that, he said, if you’d still like to, maybe we could get a coffee some time?
Sai’s answer came through almost instantly, and Genos promptly mashed his face into the pillow.
It didn’t matter how tired Genos had been before. There was no way he was going to be able to fall back asleep tonight.