The Hidden Leash

{TW SEXUAL TOY}

The bedroom was silent, except for the sound of Wenlang's ragged breathing. He stood by the bed, his neck still red and raw where the silver collar had been chafing his skin for days. Hua Yong stood across from him, holding a small, sleek black box like he was offering a goddamn engagement ring.

"Open it, Wenlang," Hua Yong said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "This is your ticket out of that silver cage."

Wenlang's fingers shook as he flipped the lid. When he saw the polished steel plug resting on the black velvet, his stomach did a fucking violent flip. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You want me to... to put that inside me? To walk into my own boardroom with a goddamn vibrator up my ass?"

"I'm offering you a trade," Hua Yong said, stepping into Wenlang's personal space. He reached out and undid the latch on the silver collar. The metal fell to the bed with a heavy clack. "The collar is off. You can walk in there looking like the S-Tier Alpha you used to be. No one will see a leash. No one will see a mark. You'll be 'free' to the world."

"But not to you," Wenlang hissed, his eyes darting to the remote in Hua Yong's other hand.

"Never to me," Hua Yong corrected. "The choice is yours. Wear the silver and let every rival you have laugh at your 'claimed' neck, or wear the steel and let them think you're still the King. The only catch is... I hold the dial. Every time you think about lying to the board—or to me—I remind you who really owns the air in your lungs."

Wenlang looked at the collar, then at the steel. He hated both. He fucking hated the man standing in front of him with a passion that burned like acid in his veins. But the thought of Director Ma or his own sister seeing him in that collar... it was too much.

"I fucking hate you," Wenlang whispered. "I hope you choke on your own goddamn blood."

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Hua Yong smiled.

The next hour was a slow, systematic dismantling of Wenlang's remaining pride. He had to endure the humiliation of being prepped, of feeling the cold, heavy weight of the steel being forced into him while Hua Yong watched with the detached interest of a scientist.

"Relax, Alpha," Hua Yong muttered, his hand resting on the small of Wenlang's back. "If you fight it, it's only going to hurt more."

"Fuck... you..." Wenlang groaned into the pillow, his fingers tearing at the silk sheets. He felt heavy. He felt fucking violated. And then, the first vibration hit.

Bzzzzzz.

"AGH! SHIT!" Wenlang's back arched, his toes curling into the mattress. It wasn't a "sexy" buzz; it was a deep, invasive thrum that felt like it was trying to shake his fucking bones apart.

"Just testing the frequency," Hua Yong said, clicking it off. "Now, get dressed. We have a company to protect."

~~~~~~~~~~

The elevator ride up to the executive floor was a nightmare. Wenlang was wearing a five-thousand-dollar charcoal suit, his neck bare and proud, but every step he took made the steel shift inside him. He felt like a fucking ticking bomb.

When they entered the boardroom, the silence was deafening.

"Mr. Shen," Director Ma started, his eyes immediately scanning Wenlang's neck. He looked disappointed to see the collar gone. "I see you've... recovered. But the board still has concerns about your 'competency' after those photos leaked."

Wenlang took his seat at the head of the table. He felt Hua Yong's eyes on him from the corner of the room. "The photos were a misunderstanding. I was engaged in high-level, private negotiations with Hua Yong's firm. Negotiations that have just secured us a twenty-percent increase in port traffic." "Negotiations?" Ma sneered. "You looked like a dog on a chain, Shen. And now you expect us to believe—"

Bzzzzzz-VRRRRRR.

The vibration hit like a fucking lightning bolt. Wenlang's sentence cut off in a sharp, pained gasp. He gripped the edge of the mahogany table so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Mr. Shen?" Ma asked, leaning forward. "Is there a problem?"

The vibration didn't stop. It stayed at a high, punishing frequency, vibrating right against his prostate, making his vision spark with gold. Wenlang's breath hitched, and he felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

"The... the problem, Ma," Wenlang managed to choke out, his voice shaking with the effort of not screaming, "is that you're... you're talking when you should be... listening."

He looked at Hua Yong. The Enigma was leaning against the wall, his hand in his pocket, his thumb clearly moving the dial.

"Brother, you're shaking," Meiling whispered from the end of the table. "Are you sick?"

"I'm... I'm fine," Wenlang lied, his fingers clawing at the underside of the table. The heat in his groin was becoming unbearable—a sick, pulsing pressure that his body was trying to interpret as pleasure, but his mind knew was fucking pure torment. "The vote... we move to the vote... now."

The meeting became a blur of corporate jargon and suppressed moans. Every time Wenlang tried to exert his old authority, every time he tried to push back against the board, the vibration would surge, forcing him to buckle, to gasp, to lose his train of thought.

By the time the meeting adjourned, Wenlang was a wreck. He stayed in his chair as the directors filed out, his head bowed, his chest heaving.

"You're a... you're a goddamn... demon..." Wenlang wheezed as soon as the door clicked shut.

Hua Yong walked over and stood behind him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "But you kept your throne, didn't you? You didn't tell them. You didn't scream. You were a very good boy, Wenlang."

Hua Yong clicked the remote. The vibration stopped so abruptly that Wenlang almost fell out of his chair from the sudden lack of pressure.

"Now," Hua Yong said, his hand sliding over the bare skin of Wenlang's neck. "Let's go home. I want to see how much of that 'Alpha fire' you have left after I've spent the whole day draining it out of you."

Wenlang didn't answer. He couldn't. He just followed the man out of the building, a King with a hidden leash, realizing that the silver collar had actually been the kinder of the two options.

The car ride back had been a silent, vibrating fucking hell, but the moment they stepped inside the penthouse, the air changed. The door clicked shut, the heavy locks engaging with a sound that felt like a sentence, and Wenlang finally collapsed against the foyer wall.

"Get... this fucking thing... out of me," Wenlang wheezed, his eyes squeezed shut, his face slick with a cold, humiliated sweat. The vibration was still humming at a low, teasing level—just enough to keep his nerves raw. "The meeting is over. You got what you wanted. Turn it the fuck off."

Hua Yong didn't turn it off. He leaned against the wall opposite Wenlang, casually loosening his tie, his violet eyes tracking the way Wenlang's legs were shaking. "I haven't decided if I'm done yet. You were a little too 'independent' during the second half of that presentation, Wenlang. You almost sounded like you thought you were in charge again."

"I was trying to save my goddamn company!" Wenlang roared, though it came out as a pained snarl. He lunged forward, his hands reaching for the remote in Hua Yong's pocket, but the Enigma moved like a goddamn ghost.

Hua Yong caught Wenlang's wrists in one hand, twisting them behind his back and slamming him face-first into the wall. "Careful, Alpha. You're forgetting who holds the leash—even if you can't see it right now."

VRRRRRRR-ZZZZZZ.

Hua Yong thumbed the dial to a jagged, pulsing rhythm.

"FUCK! AGH! STOP IT!" Wenlang's head slammed against the wall, a sob of pure, biological frustration breaking from his throat. His knees buckled, and he would have hit the floor if Hua Yong wasn't holding him up by his bound wrists. "Please... shit... Hua Yong, I'm fucking begging you... turn it off..."

"Begging? The great Shen Wenlang is begging?" Hua Yong whispered into his ear, his breath hot against the mark on Wenlang's neck. He clicked the vibration off.

The silence that followed was deafening. Wenlang slumped, his forehead resting against the cool plaster of the wall, his breath coming in ragged, pathetic gasps.

"Go to the bedroom," Hua Yong commanded, releasing his wrists. "Take off the suit. If there's a single wrinkle in that charcoal wool, I'm putting the silver collar back on you for a month."

Wenlang stumbled into the bedroom. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely undo his belt. He stripped off the five-thousand-dollar suit, throwing the jacket onto the floor in a heap of fucking pure spite. He stood there in nothing but his shirt, his skin pale and marked, the heavy steel plug still a cold, invasive weight inside him.

Hua Yong walked in and sat on the edge of the bed, the remote resting on his thigh. "I told you earlier. The reward for surviving the meeting is that you get to remove it yourself. But I didn't say it would be easy."

Wenlang looked at him, horror dawning on his face. "What the fuck do you mean?" "I mean you have to earn it," Hua Yong said, his eyes darkening. "Get on the bed. On your hands and knees. You're going to take it out, Wenlang. But you're going to do it slowly. If you rush, if you try to just rip it out to end the shame... I turn the dial back to max."

"You're a fucking monster," Wenlang whispered, tears of pure rage stinging his eyes.

"And you're my Alpha. Now, move."

Wenlang crawled onto the bed. The silk sheets felt like ice against his knees. He felt like an animal. He felt like a freak. He reached behind himself, his fingers fumbling, finding the base of the steel. It was slick, hot, and felt like a part of his own body he wanted to excise like a fucking tumor.

"Slowly," Hua Yong reminded him, his thumb hovering over the dial.

Wenlang began to pull. The sensation was a sickening mix of relief and intense, invasive pressure. His breath hitched in a sharp, pained groan. "Fuck... shit... I hate you... I fucking hate you so much..."

"Tell me more about how much you hate me while you're doing that," Hua Yong mocked, leaning closer, his scent—that heavy, dark forest musk—filling Wenlang's lungs, making his head swim.

Wenlang's fingers slipped. The steel moved too fast.

BZZZZZT.

Hua Yong didn't hesitate. He hit the burst button.

"AGH! FUCK!" Wenlang collapsed onto the pillows, his entire body convulsing as the high-frequency jolt ripped through him. He was sobbing now—raw, ugly sounds of a man whose pride had been ground into the fucking dirt and then set on fire. "Stop! Shit! I'm sorry! I'm fucking sorry! Just turn it off!"

"Don't rush me again," Hua Yong hissed.

It took another twenty minutes of agonizing, sweary labor before the steel finally hit the mattress with a heavy thud. Wenlang lay there, face-down, his body racking with aftershocks. He felt empty. He felt ruined. He felt like his soul had been scrubbed raw with steel wool.

Hua Yong picked up the plug, looking at it with a detached sort of satisfaction, before tossing it back into its black velvet box. He reached down and ran a hand over Wenlang's trembling back, his fingers tracing the line of his spine.

"There," Hua Yong whispered. "See? You survived. You're still the CEO. You still have your 'Alpha' reputation. And all it cost you was a little bit of dignity."

"I have... nothing left," Wenlang whispered into the pillow, his voice a hollow, broken shell.

"You have me," Hua Yong replied, leaning down to kiss the violet mark on Wenlang's neck. "And in this city, Wenlang... that's the only thing that's going to keep you alive."

Wenlang didn't fight him. He didn't even have the strength to swear. He just lay there in the dark, listening to the sound of his own heart, realizing that the "Hidden Leash" was never really about the device. It was about the fact that he was starting to need the pain just to feel like he was still real.