He pulled out a folder which was suspiciously convenient and handed over a neatly printed set of documents.
The terms weren't even that crazy.
Demanding, yes, but clear.
He had to obey Ansel, attend to him, be available at any time he needed him.
Honestly he didn't mean any of it, he could settle his debt and still have 50k extra, this was already enough.
He signed the contract and then filled in the part that required his personal information.
Then he handed the documents back to Ansel, who tossed it to a corner and pushed Lance closer.
Biting his lips, he said "Let's have some fun shall we?"
Lance was a bit surprised, they were going to do it now?
"Don't worry I won't go all the way, all you have to get down on all fours and suck my dick. Let's see if my sex slave can get the job done.."
The command, delivered in that calm, dominant tone, sent a shocking jolt straight to Lance's dick.
He was already half-hard, a traitorous response he tried to quell. He sank to his knees, the plush carpet rough against his skin through his jeans. His world narrowed to the space between Ansel's legs.
Ansel didn't hurry. He made a show of unbuckling his belt, the clink of the metal deafening in the quiet room. The zip came down with a slow, deliberate rasp. He pushed his trousers and briefs down just enough to free himself, and Lance's breath hitched.
Ansel's dick was huge. It wasn't an exaggeration, it was a fact. Thick and long, already fully hard, it stood proudly against his stomach, a veined, ruddy testament to his power. A drop of precum beaded at the slit, and the musky, masculine scent of him was overwhelming.
"Well?" Ansel's voice was challenging. "You signed the contract. Now earn your keep."
That was all the permission Lance needed. The last thread of hesitation snapped. He leaned forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. He didn't start slow. He went all in, opening his mouth wide to take the fat head of Ansel's dick, his tongue flattening against the throbbing underside.
Oh fuck!
The taste of him exploded on Lance's tongue, salty, clean, and utterly addictive.
A low, guttural groan escaped Ansel above him, and the sound fed a deep, needy part of Lance's soul.
This was what he was for now.
He pulled off, saliva stringing between his lips and Ansel's glistening crown. "You're so fucking big, Ansel.." he breathed, the words a worshipful curse. "I'm gonna fucking ruin my throat on this monster dick"
"That's the idea.." Ansel grunted, his hands tangled in Lance's hair, he wasn't guiding him, he was just holding it. "Now stop talking and get to work."
Lance obeyed. He dove back down, this time aiming to take more. He pushed past the initial resistance, relaxing his throat as the thick length pressed deeper.
His eyes watered instantly, tears blurring his vision of Ansel's taut stomach. He pushed until his nose was buried in the coarse dark hair at the base, until he felt Ansel's cockhead nudge the back of his throat.
He held it there, swallowing convulsively around the intrusion, the muscles of his throat milking the shaft.
"Fuck, Lance.." Ansel hissed, his hips giving an involuntary jerk. His grip in Lance's hair tightened. "That's a good fucking start. You take it so deep."
Lance pulled off, gasping for air, a long strand of spit and precum connecting his swollen lips to Ansel's dick.
He was panting, his own erection straining painfully against his zipper. He didn't give himself time to recover. He wanted to drown in this.
Lance went down again, faster this time, establishing a brutal rhythm. He'd suck hard on the way down, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head, then plunge deep, fucking his own face on Ansel's massive dick.
The sloppy, wet sounds were obscene, echoing off the room's walls, a symphony of gagging, sucking, and Ansel's increasingly ragged breaths.
"Yeah, just like that.." Ansel moaned, his composure cracking. He started to move, meeting Lance's bobbing head with shallow thrusts of his own. "Take it, you fucking cocksucker. Take all of it. God, your mouth is a fucking dream."
Lance could only moan in response, the vibration earning him another sharp curse from above.
He was a mess, tears streamed down his face, mixing with the spit that coated his chin and dripped onto his chest.
He loved it.
He loved the feeling of being used, of his only purpose being to service this incredible cock.
He reached down with one hand to palm his own aching hardness through his pants, a pathetic grind for friction.
Ansel saw it. "None of that.." he growled, swatting Lance's hand away. "You don't get to come. Not until I say so. This is about my pleasure. Your job is to make me feel good. Now get back to work."
The denial sent a fresh wave of submission crashing through Lance. He redoubled his efforts, his jaw aching.
He focused on the details, the things that made Ansel's breath catch. He'd drag his teeth lightly along the veined shaft just to feel it pulse in his mouth. He'd suck just the head, tonguing the slit furiously, lapping up the steady flow of precum.
"I'm gonna fuck that pretty throat," Ansel snarled, his voice thick with lust. He finally took full control, his hands clamping on the sides of Lance's head, holding him still. "You're gonna take every fucking inch. You're gonna choke on it."
And then he started to thrust. Hard. He pistoned his hips, driving his cock deep into Lance's throat over and over again.
Lance's gag reflex fired constantly, but he forced himself to stay relaxed, to take it.
His throat opened up, becoming a wet, tight sleeve for Ansel's fucking. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the brutal, amazing stretch as Ansel used his face for his own pleasure.
The air was filled with the sounds of Ansel's groans, the wet slaps of his balls against Lance's chin, and the choked, gurgling noises Lance couldn't suppress.
Spit was everywhere, slicking everything down. Lance's world was reduced to the smell of sex, the taste of salt and skin, and the overwhelming presence of the man fucking his mouth.
Ansel's rhythm became erratic and frantic. "I'm gonna come," he grunted, his thrusts becoming shallower, harder. "I'm gonna fucking paint your throat. Swallow it. Swallow every fucking drop."
He shoved Lance's head down one last time, burying his cock to the hilt, and held him there as he erupted. Lance felt the hot, violent pulses down his throat, the salty, bitter flood hitting the back of his tongue.
He swallowed desperately, again and again, not letting a single drop escape, milking Ansel's cock with his throat until the man was shuddering and spent.
Ansel finally released him, and Lance collapsed back on the rug, gasping, coughing and drawing ragged breaths into his burning lungs. He was a complete wreck, his face glistening, eyes red-rimmed, chest heaving.
Ansel looked down at him, tucking his softening dick back into his trousers. His expression was one of raw, satisfied power. He reached down, not with tenderness, but with possession, wiping a stray drop of cum from the corner of Lance's mouth with his thumb.
"Not bad for a first payment," Ansel said, his voice back to its cool, controlled tone. He smeared his thumb across Lance's bottom lip.