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The little thing shaking his (her?) thin little hips in the crowded club almost makes Otabek fuck the mix up. He’s a little unsure but growing more and more confident under the steady beat and showing the telltale signs of being a little keyed on something, but otherwise he retains most of his senses as he grinds back against a much bigger man.
Otabek wants to fuck him up. Not just get him fully blissed out on Molly, but make the little thing his. He’s got a half hour before his set ends, the club alternating DJs every two hours, so he’ll have plenty of time to get off once he gets off.
He keeps an eye on the lithe blonde the whole time, observes how he latches to every man that passes like he’s desperate for their attention and ignores all the women. He clearly has a type, and they’re bigger and stronger, more manly than that tiny twink.
From how the blonde looks around whenever he’s not lost in the moment, it’s clear that it’s his first time either at this club or clubbing in general. Otabek intends for it to be far from his last. He’ll have the bitch hanging off his arm or off his cock at every show, whether he’s on the smoky dance floor, drinking with friends at the booths or even providing the entertainment.
Once his set is finished, he’s off the stage in a flash. He keeps an eye on that twink until he’s down the steps and in the employees-only area, then breathes a sigh of relief when he’s still in the outskirts of the crowd when Otabek emerges onto the main floor. He barely pays attention to those congratulating him for his set, idly raising his hand to high-five while his higher brain focuses on stalking his prey.
The little thing still doesn’t notice him, so caught up as he is in the arms of some skinny loser, until Otabek is right behind him, shooting a glare downwards at his competition. It quickly becomes obvious exactly what Otabek wants, and that he’s going to get it. Not wanting the fight, the loser makes some blustering excuse and slips away from the now-confused twink.
Otabek will make sure his bitch won’t even remember the loser’s face by the end of the night.
The tiny thing is looking around everywhere except behind him, seemingly confused, so Otabek decides to help him out by tapping him on the shoulder.
“Looking for someone, little thing?”
The blonde whips around, looking forwards into Otabek’s underboob, before craning his neck back so he can look the newcomer in the face. It’s the first time that either of them have looked at each other’s face properly, and it seems that both are awestruck.
Otabek is entranced by this twink’s sheer beauty, the daintiness that’s present across his whole body, while he can see the blonde’s eyes take in the massive man before him.
He stopped measuring his height a long time ago, but Otabek is unquestionably tall, with a broadness that would mark him out to be a star athlete if he’d cared about that sort of thing. His parents called him an Ox growing up and he had no trouble throwing his size around as a teenager. Now, with his fresh undercut and the huge motorbike he rides around with, he knows he’s a stud, a man that few could compete with and he’s proud of that.
Especially when it means he can get a pretty little thing like the one in front of him.
“Like what you see, baby girl?” That comment makes the blonde stop, his face visibly contorting in annoyance even under the dim lighting.
“’Mm not a girl,” the blonde says, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms.
A feisty one.
Perfect.
“Aww, my mistake, you just looked so pretty dancing around to my music,” Otabek mutters, a purr rumbling through his voice that has the intended effect of making the pretty boy blush. The big man leans down a little, just enough that he can get in the twink’s face as he catches that little chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Y-yeah, so what?” The blonde tries his best to not meet the other’s gaze, but Otabek is nothing if not stubborn as he works to ensnare the pretty thing in his grasp.
“Maybe I can bring you up to the stage, nice and close for my next set, yeah?” The offer takes a moment to internalise in the twink’s mind, something that makes Otabek smile as he considers just how out of it he’ll be if the bigger man gets his way.
“Y-you’d do that?” Finally, the twink meets Otabek’s gaze with his own, a heavy blush on his face.
“Only if you keep me company till then, pretty boy.” Otabek purrs once again, excited to get this girly little thing under some better lighting, “I’ll make it more than worth your while.”
The little blonde nods as best he can in Otabek’s grasp, causing his gaze to turn dangerous. With his patience starting to run thin, he relinquishes his grip on the twink’s chin so he can instead drop his hand to the boy’s shoulder so he can guide him forwards. If Otabek weren’t so tall he’d wrap his arm around the boy’s tiny waist, squeeze him tight, but with their stark height difference he can’t even do that without fucking his back up.
Instead, he turns, lightly nudging the little twink ahead of him, and walks him to the stairs to the balcony floor, where the private booths reside.
He lets the blonde walk a good few steps ahead of him, if only so the boy’s head can be somewhat level to his own for a fleeting moment, before he catches up in a few long strides.
Outside of the rows of booths on either side, the floor is see-through, allowing the VIPs to watch the sweaty crowd writhe around each other while they drink and dry hump each other. Something that Otabek has done many a time. His own booth, one he retreats to after every set to cool down, is at the far end of the floor, next to a staff entrance that leads to the stage. Due to his immense stature, the table is much smaller than the rest and stays folded back against the wall until it’s needed.
As Otabek turns himself and his prize to that booth, the silly thing makes to sit on the other side to him, but he quickly finds himself in the bigger man’s arms.
He weighs almost nothing.
Fuck.
Otabek puts the throbbing of his cock in his leather pants to the back of his head, mindful that he can’t rush these kinds of things, as he takes his seat at the far end of the booth, kicking his legs up onto the cushions and planting that little twink just in front of his crotch.
Though the lights in the ceiling of each booth aren’t too bright — they don’t want to give their drunk customers a headache after all — they’re much better than the flashing lights beaming downstairs, meant to turn everyone into a vague shape to grind against instead of a clear person. This way, Otabek can see that the boy is just as pretty as he thought he’d be.
His face is just as slight as the rest of his body, though half of it is covered by neck-length blonde hair that only makes him look more feminine as it bobs. His tank top is ripped at the sides and loose on him, one strap almost falling off his shoulder while his skinny jeans cling to those delicious little legs. He’s a whole fucking meal and Otabek wants to gorge himself on him.
“Fuck, Kitten, you look so good,” Otabek mumbles, entranced.
The little thing is clearly not used to being complimented as he hunches up on top of Otabek, shoulders raising and face a deep frown. He clearly doesn’t know what to say, so Otabek continues.
“Wanna feel good too, pretty boy?” Otabek asks, raising a hand from where he’s keeping said pretty boy’s thighs steady against his body to slip under that vest. He revels in just how his palm swallows so much flesh; he wonders if he make his fingers meet around the boy’s waist.
“Mhm,” The little thing squirms under his touch, one hand pressing down against the much bigger one on his thigh as the other hooks onto the sleeve of his leather jacket.
“Use your words, baby,” Otabek drawls as he runs his hand up and down the twink’s side. It takes a couple moments and a few flustered whimpers, but eventually he gets a response.
“P-please… make me feel good.”
Otabek feels a grin plaster itself across his face.
Just a little touch and some sweet words and all that feistiness disappears.
“Good, baby, cos I have just the thing.” Otabek slips his hand out from underneath the twink’s own before tugging the blonde by the wrist. Both of those tiny hands fly to Otabek’s stomach so the little thing doesn’t tumble down, barely making an indent in the muscle underneath.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” As he speaks, Otabek keeps slowly stroking up and down a lithe hip with one hand and retrieves a pill from a pocket with the other.
“Y-Yuri.”
“Yuri. Cute.” With great sadness, he lets go of Yuri’s hip and grabs a water bottle from the couch.
It’s not his first time pulling something like this, after all.
“Do you know what this is, Yuri?” Otabek presents the pill to the boy straddling him. When Yuri shakes his head no, Otabek feels something evil overtake him, like he’s about to ruin something pure and good for his own selfish needs.
“This, baby boy, is Molly. Know what that is?”
“H-heard of it.” Yuri’s looks nervous, but there’s a clear curiousity too.
“Good.” Otabek raises the pill to Yuri’s lips, tablet pinched between two fingers. Adorably, the blonde opens his mouth to accept it before he’s even instructed.
“Ah, listen, kitten.” Yuri looks from the pill to Otabek’s own eyes, “you’ll take this and then you’ll drink the rest of this bottle, yeah?”
Otabek takes the little nod from Yuri as permission and shuffles the pill to his fingertips so he drop it on an outstretched tongue.
As soon as the tip of that little tongue touches the pill, his face scrunches up, just like a little kitten. Quick as he can, the bigger man unscrews the lid of the bottle and presses the rim to Yuri’s lips.
“Drink, kitten.”
The kitten in question barely opens his eyes from where they were clenched shut, staring daggers up at Otabek while he accepts the drink.
He gulps and gulps the water down, desperate to wash the pill and the bitter taste from his mouth, while the bigger man observes each twitch and scrunch of his face.
“There, all gone,” Otabek says, tossing the now-empty bottle to the side. He thumbs at a wet spot while Yuri sticks his tongue out in revulsion, “don’t worry, kitten, you’ll feel so good soon.”
“Fucken b-better, fuck,” Yuri grumbles as Otabek pets that pretty little face, made so adorable by how he gags at the pill.
“Hm, how about we go downstairs, distract you from the taste,” Otabek asks, though he’s already wrapping his hands around Yuri’s waist to hoist him off his belly and onto the floor. He knows what he’s doing, after all, and the confidence and quiet assertiveness with which he talks to and handles Yuri makes the boy so obedient.
Before the blonde knows what’s happening, they’re back on the dance floor, with Otabek squatting so he can grind his leather-clad crotch against Yuri’s pert ass, the twink on his tiptoes while the bigger man steers his movements; one hand sits where his hip and thigh meets, thumb pressing down on the divot above the blonde’s ass, while the other snakes underneath that slutty little top again, this time pawing at Yuri’s tiny little chest where what could either be boobs or pecs — Otabek honestly can’t tell the difference — give so easy under his groping.
He doesn’t know how much time passes as he slowly guides Yuri further into the crowd, something the kitten cares less and less about as the Molly slowly but surely takes hold of him. The other DJ is in full swing on her set as they dance, the little blonde’s movements becoming more and more loose and easily distracted.
Otabek is mostly sober, but the way Yuri reacts to each little touch, how he squirms on the hard cock nearly rutting against him, it’s downright hypnotising. When Yuri starts grinding back against the bigger man of his own accord, Otabek releases the firm grip he had on his side to instead reach for the femboy’s face. Due to their size difference, his kitten’s whole head could probably disappear if he wrapped his hands around it, but just his palm covers the expanse of his neck and some of his collarbone.
With one thumb still teasing those tiny buds barely hiding under that thin vest, the tip of the other presses against Yuri’s lips. The rough, calloused texture of the thumb immediately steals the twinks attention, thanks to the Molly, and with only a tiny bit of pressure those lips give way. Otabek tilts his kitten’s head back using the palm of his hand against that thin neck, giving him an upside-down view of the blonde as he leans over him.
Yuri’s eyes dart about between the flashy lights and the man looming over him while that kitten tongue feels around the worn-down nail of the thumb slowing pressing into his mouth.
If only he worked somewhere else, then he’d feel absolutely zero shame about fucking the little blonde right in the middle of that crowd. He wants to lay a claim right now. The way the little thing worships his thumb while still grinding against his trapped cock is doing something ungodly to Otabek, and he’s not sure that his kitten even realises it, blissed out as he is.
To Yuri’s sad whimpers, Otabek retrieves his thumb from that wet little mouth. He’s about to shush his adorable little whining with two fingers when the alarm for his next set buzzes in his pocket.
Has he really been dancing with this kitten for two hours!?
He wipes his thumb on his pants before retrieving his still-buzzing phone. He makes sure to keep one of Yuri’s nipples pinched between his index and middle finger as he confirms that, yes, he’s spend nearly ninety minutes dry-humping and molesting the blonde.
He’s got to fucking keep him.
His kitten is confused when Otabek removes his hand from his waist and twirls him around by the shoulder. He’s so wobbly and loose that he immediately topples against the bigger man’s front. Of course, Otabek barely feels it and nearly coos at how Yuri clings onto his leather jacket before he reaches down and hoists him up. Yuri’s too small and too out of it to wrap his legs around the bigger man’s waist, but Otabek is more than strong enough to keep the blonde up. That pert little ass is level with the big man’s torso so Otabek can keep his kitten’s head resting against his shoulder as he makes his way to the DJ booth.
As the club is between sets, the stage is darkened. This means that Otabek can simply walk to his equipment in front of hundreds of people as they dance to some licensed music without a single one noticing him or the little kitten nuzzling at his big shoulder.
With plenty of care, he lowers his kitten in front of him, then presses down on those dainty shoulders until Yuri sinks to his knees. The little blonde is clearly confused, but unable to voice his concerns while Otabek scritches at his hair and cheeks.
“I’ve got a job for you, kitten,” Otabek drawls, making sure to purr so his voice goes right through Yuri. The effect is obvious as the blonde shudders from the sensation, unconsciously nuzzling into Otabek’s palm as he reacts.
Before he can continue, he moves his free hand to the waistband of his leather pants. He shucks them down a few inches then fishes his cock out, the massive thing still not fully hard despite the last two hours of entertainment.
He’s simply so huge that it needs more stimulation than most people, so what makes a regular man hard in moments takes exponentially longer to do the same to a stud like Otabek.
He’s certainly not soft, however, as his length rests on top of and past Yuri’s face, drooping slightly from where the twink doesn’t prop the meat up. He’s hot and sweaty from being kept in leather pants for so long — without underwear — and the sight of the sweat being imprinted on the femboy’s face makes a bead of pre drip from Yuri’s face and onto the DJ equipment behind him. Otabek growls down at his kitten, low and rumbling, just to make him squirm more.
Yuri takes the growl as an instruction, however, and tilts his head back as best he can while it’s pinned down by Otabek’s cock to lap at that steaming, sweaty cockflesh. Otabek growls again, this time without intending to, as that kitten tongue traces a thick vein that cords around his heaving cock.
As Yuri licks and licks, Otabek’s cock gets harder and longer while the bigger man tries to set up his equipment at the same time. When most of the work is done, he looks down at the kitten below him, face mostly obscured by his own cock, and feels his cock pump more and more pre out of the tip. Before he realises it, he’s moving his hand to the back of Yuri’s head and pulling it to the base of his cock, tilting him so his nose is submerged in his ballsack.
He finishes setting up as Yuri immediately gets to work at his balls, licking at the coarse hairs and huffing the deep, masculine stink that emits from where his cock usually rests on his apple-sized nuts.
Once his set is ready, he retrieves Yuri from the depths of his hairy nuts, pulling him all the way back so his head is resting against his equipment. The tip of his cock flops from his head to bob in front of Yuri’s face and the kitten is so transfixed on the massive tip in front of him.
As he shifts his hips forward slightly, pressing the tip of his cock to Yuri’s lips, in a lewd parody of a kiss, he shifts his hand from the blonde hair to the meat of his shaft behind his cock head and massages some pre from himself, letting it drool out of his cock and smear across his kitten’s lips. He presses his cock a little further forwards and Yuri lets his mouth droop open so Otabek can feed his kitten more and more of his meat.
The Molly makes Yuri loose and pliant as Otabek gradually slides inch after inch of thick cockflesh inside, his throat easily giving way as the tip presses forwards with no regard for the tightness of his channel. He had to step backwards a bit to present thirteen inches of cock to Yuri’s lips, so he shuffles forwards as he shoves more inside. He’s still not fully hard, meaning his cock is flexible enough to be fed down Yuri’s throat without the twink needing to straighten his channel up. The kitten’s neck swells at the front, bulging with Otabek’s cockmeat.
“Fuck, such a good little pussy, babygirl,” Otabek mutters as he finally feels those lips brush against the jungle of pubes that envelops the base of his cock. Yuri whines as Otabek shuffles a little further forwards, pinning the blonde’s head against his equipment.
As his cock continues to harden in Yuri’s mouthcunt, the lights finally shine on Otabek, revealing him to the crowd. Due to Yuri being completely obscured by the DJ equipment, the big man simply gets to work and noone’s the wiser.
Not only is Otabek in bliss, as the slut beneath him is contorted by his hardening cock to finally force a straight line from the entrance to his mouth to the depths of his gullet, he feels himself performing better than ever. He’s on fire as he brings the crowd to new highs for two hours, revelling in the noise and the sensations as Yuri warms his cock like the good kitten he is.
Yuri’s lips, already stretched thin by the sheer girth between them, suckle around Otabek’s cock as he performs. The bigger man is sure that he’s sobering up, but every time he looks down he sees pure ecstasy on his kitten’s face. Musk clouds around Yuri’s face as he idly licks and mouths around the cockflesh breaking his insides without even moving. Yuri can’t move an inch, stuck as he is between DJ equipment and Otabek’s hips while he warms that massive cock.
Finally, the lights darken on the stage as Otabek finishes his set. He still hasn’t cum, but he doesn’t mind. He’s not done using his kitten, after all.
Before he can move, he slowly retrieves his cock from Yuri’s throatcunt. His cockflesh is completely slicked in saliva and precum as he slides free, but he doesn’t care. He knows that the techs will be here to check on the equipment momentarily, so he quickly tucks his cock inside his pants while Yuri stares up at him, dazed and confused.
He stares at those glazed-over eyes with adoration, wondering just how much worse he can make his kitten look before he squats down and scoops Yuri up into his arms, one supporting his tiny ass while the other steadies his head so Otabek can bring their mouths together.
As he walks down the steps and out the back door of the night club, he sticks his tongue as far down his kittens throat as he can manage, his body on autopilot as he navigates his way to the motorbike that waits for him outside.
The model in particular is made for men like him, standing huge and rugged and able to support Otabek’s weight.
Now that he’s finished his last set, Otabek’s free to play with his kitten as he pleases, and he has a very specific idea in mind for just how he’d do so. It’s bitingly cold outside, the air nipping at Otabek’s face while the low thrumming of the club provides the only noise for miles.
The bigger man lowers Yuri to sit on his bike, the little thing just lucid enough to steady himself on the seat, and admires just how perfectly the blonde’s clothes compliment his lithe figure.
Then, with zero warning, Otabek reaches for Yuri’s clothes and rips them apart.
“W-wha…?” Yuri is, understandably, confused as he’s suddenly without even his underwear in the cold of the night while Otabek hunts for the blonde’s personal effects.
“It’s okay, kitten, just let your man do the work,” Otabek drawls from behind Yuri as he subtly stashes those belongings away, “you’ll be nice and warm soon.”
With both of his hands free, the bigger man takes hold of Yuri’s body and shuffles him along the seat of the bike before tipping him forwards, making the kitten straddle the fuel tank in front of where Otabek would sit. Just like in the club, Yuri obeys meekly, letting Otabek puppet him while liberally feeling around his skinny body, paying some special attention to his pebbled nipples.
From a side pouch, Otabek retrieves some cables and ties Yuri’s wrists; he doesn’t want his kitten to get hurt while he serves his master, after all. After doing the same to his ankles, Otabek gives Yuri a once over. He hums his approval at his tied-up kitten then swings his leg over the bike.
As Otabek fishes his still-hard cock from his pants, he takes note of Yuri’s plugged hole. He groans, low and guttural, and Yuri whines. Otabek feels no guilt with how roughly he tears that plug from his kitten’s hole and throws it to the side, out of view and out of memory.
The only lubrication he give Yuri, besides the lube that the blonde presumably used to prepare himself for that plug, is a string of drool Otabek lets fall from his lip to that slightly-gaped asscunt. He feels a dark, sinister grin contort on his own face as he presses the tip of his cock to Yuri’s hole, the flesh giving with only minimal resistance. He feels much more when he rears back a little then swings his hips forwards, burying half his cock inside Yuri’s pussy. The kitten screams from the sudden deep thrust, and Otabek makes no move to stop him, instead starting his bike up to muffle his pet’s loud mewling.
And, after all, who cares about a pretty little femboy bitch getting used by a real man in a back alley?
With his cock half-sheathed inside Yuri, Otabek kicks the stand up and twists the throttle a little to start him on his way home. With the assistance of the cables and Otabek’s cock, Yuri is easily pinned to the fuel tank as the bigger man rides down pitch-black streets. His headlight is the only thing illuminating the road as the streetlights are shut-off for the rest of the night, and traffic is so sparse that Otabek feels no pressure to hurry up along the road with a boy strapped to the bike and warming his cock.
Instead, he lets himself indulge in the fantasy he’s long sought to fulfil, letting his cock slowly sink inside that perfect little pussy while he rides down the empty highway. He occasionally weaves between the opposing lanes, thighs gently the squeezing the bitch between them just to makes sure his kitten is nice and secure on his cock.
It’s fucking heaven. The boy’s pussy runs hot as it clings to Otabek’s cock, massaging each inch further inside him while Yuri’s moans and whines are taken from him by the headwinds. Otabek has to occasionally push Yuri’s head back down to rest behind the massive headlight so he can properly breathe, his big hand hovering in front of his kitten’s mouth to feel those hushed breaths against his palm.
He’s almost to his home in the next city over when he starts bucking into Yuri, the straight lanes of the highway leading into the city allowing him to stuff a few more inches inside. He’s fully sheathed inside his kitten when he finally parks behind his apartment.
As soon as the stand is kicked down, he plants one foot on the ground beneath him and thrusts as hard as he can, without tipping the bike over, down into Yuri’s pinned body. Each loud plap rings into the night as Yuri whines with each impact of Otabek’s balls and pubic bone down against his bruised ass. He’s relentless, nearly feral as he drives himself as deep as he can inside. He’s barely composed enough to stop thrusting so he can untie Yuri’s wrists, before grabbing one in each hand and wrenching them back as Otabek fucks forwards.
Otabek thinks of all the ways he’s going to torment his prize, all the clubs he can fuck him in and all the friends he can show off his new boywife to, and finally he feels his balls swell a little more before unloading. He unleashes a torrent of jizz into his kitten, groaning and growling as his nuts empty into those ruined guts. Yuri wails, wrists still pulled all the way back to Otabek’s sides as his belly swells with the sheer amount of jizz filling him.
It takes a few minutes for Otabek to calm, for his ballsack to finally empty. Yuri is passed out, overwhelmed as he looks several months pregnant with jizz. His little wrists are resting on his freed thighs as he leans back against Otabek, cock still plugging him up. Before he can move, the bigger man unties Yuri’s ankles, giving his kitten a little more care than he gave his wrists during his feral use of the boy.
Not wanting to get his bike dirty — which is a perfect excuse for what Otabek is about to do — he twists Yuri on his cock so he faces his new owner instead of the bike, and hauls him up into his arms yet again. Otabek admires the size of the blonde’s belly, all from his jizz, and the little poke of his cock just above the cum bulge. He smiles, full of fondness for the kitten he’s broken in, and dismounts from the bike.
Before he enters the apartment, he swipes Yuri’s belongings from his bike, then continues on his way. Though he’s exhausted from today’s adventure, he still has no issue holding Yuri to him as he ascends the stairs to his apartment.
Otabek crashes on his couch with a grunt and then a nice, long yawn as he lets his head droop backwards. With Yuri settled in his lap, he shifts his hand to rest one in blonde hair and the other to fetch the belongings he remembered to keep.
Though he supposed that Yuri counts as one of those belongings, too.
He observes the ID, humoured that the boy hadn’t thought to lie about his name, then checks Yuri Plisetsky’s wallet. All that his kitten has — or had — to his name was a few hundred in cash.
A runaway.
Otabek could cackle like a madman. He doesn’t know just where Yuri came from, though his name certainly isn’t of a local origin, but it almost doesn’t matter. He’s certainly disappeared from his old family and travelled a long way, perhaps indulged himself in a little fun in a new place while he figures out a plan.
Not that it matters, now. The poor thing had the misfortune — or fortune, depending on how the blonde reacts when he’s fully sober — to stumble into Otabek’s gaze. Now he’s in the big man’s grasp, in an apartment a city away from where he was hopped up on Molly, and fucked full of jizz.
Whatever Yuri planned to do, it doesn’t matter. His life, and his holes, belong to Otabek now. He’s his to do with what he pleases. A cute little pocket pussy to break on his cock and indulge his fucked-up fantasies.
After all, silly little kittens listen to their masters, else they end up in the hands of someone even worse.