His head ached as he tried to think of any more possible ways to get out of these restraints, but he just couldn’t. He tried at the rope holding his wrists together again, letting out a frustrated huff as he realized he really can’t get out. The material of it left his skin raw. Wilbur leans his head back and scans the room fully, searching for a possible way out once he does find a way out of the ropes.
Wilbur pauses what he’s doing the second he notices the only door to the room open, and watches as you walk in. He’s aware of who you are, and he now grows angry. A smile lined your lips. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” you begin, walking closer to him with your hands behind your back. “I managed to get you, Wilbur Soot, knocked out cold because you didn’t pay attention to what you were drinking. Silly, huh?” he wanted to wipe that stupid smile off your face. You’ve always been excited to try new things, and he’s assuming that this is a first for you. Interrogation.
Wilbur feels himself begin to grow pissed off at the way you acted. His tongue runs over his lips to wet them before speaking. “I was aware you were up to no good.” he cranes his neck to the side, as if to move a bit away from you. You only smile more. “But not aware enough.” you reply. He knows he should have been more careful, but he was too distracted dealing with Schlatt. He never suspected that shot of Schlatt’s whiskey to be laced.
“Once I’m out of these, I’ll make sure to end you and whoever you’re working for. You have no idea who you’re—“ he was cut off by the sudden yank to his hair, a rough grunt leaving him at the force of it. He’s never seen this side of you—so eager to get info from him. Your fingers held a tight grip on his brown locks. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it.” you say, forcing his head to move back further. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, which leads you to run your fingers delicately across the skin of his neck.
He flinches lightly at the touch, brown eyes focusing on you as you continue to touch him. “I’ll make you tell me what you and your friends are up to. I know you’re working with Tommy. You’re so set on blowing up L’manberg, aren’t you?” you speak slowly, as if mocking his confidence from earlier. He hasn’t told many people about his plans, so he’s curious to know why you know so much about them.
He lets out a small sigh, looking off to the side because he really didn’t want to have this conversation. Wilbur had been through it plenty of times. Your other hand comes up to grip at his jaw, fingernails slightly digging into his skin. He hisses at the light pain. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. You should show me some respect, considering I’m the one in control.”
His eyes narrow down in confusion and anger, attempting to shake off your hand from his hair and face. Even if he was the one bound to a chair, there was no way you’d be the one in charge. “Who says you’re in—“ he was cut off yet again by one of your hands cupping his clothed cock. That definitely surprised him. He sucks in a quiet breath, tensing up. The tip of your nose runs along the side of his cheek. “I said so. So, you’re going to listen to me, and do as I say.” Wilbur huffs out a soft breath as you squeeze a little harder, the pressure making him bite his lip in return. “Like hell I’d listen to you.” he grumbles.
You hum at his response, granting him a little space. You move to stand in front of him, then lean forward. Your knee comes in contact with that sensitive area yet again, pressing hard against the base. “You’ll be listening soon enough when you’ll be begging for me to let you cum. So tell me, why L’manberg? Why blow it up?” You begin to ask the first question of the night.
“Fuck off.” He replies, and you smirk. You shift your leg forward to press your knee a little harder, and you could feel his dick twitch. It’s funny, really. Men are always so easy to please. He sucks in a shaky breath, cheeks tinting a soft red. “Stop it, I’m not telling you shit.”
The second your lips come in contact with the skin of his neck, he nearly melts. Being touched like this was something he hasn’t had in awhile, but it’ll take a lot for him to cave in so easily.
Or that’s what he thought.
“Fuck—enough! I can’t…” he pants out, lifting his hips up closer to your face to ask for more silently. You only laugh, your fingers abandoning his hard cock to dance along the inside of his thigh. “If you tell me more, I’ll let you cum.” you say softly, and he lets out a much needed sigh from the break he was granted. This was too much to deal with. He never expected to be put through this.
He’s already told two crucial pieces of information—he can’t spare anymore without putting his friend’s lives at risk.
“N-No. Fuck you.” he spits, to which you start back up again. You had two fingers up inside him, your mouth now placed on his cock again as you bring him back to where he was before. Wilbur’s legs were shaking, gasping and moaning at the sweet spot you repeatedly brushed up against inside him.
“Ooh fuck… yeah… pl-please. Please let me cum.” he begs through a whine, his head tilted back to face the ceiling as he sits there, taking in all the pleasure you’re giving him. It feels so fucking good—he needs it, he craves that sweet release that you’re denying him.
He chokes on a groan as you press the pads of your fingers against his prostate yet again, making ‘come hither’ motions against it. Wilbur whines pathetically at how good it feels, chest shaking with each exhale he lets go. “F-Fuck please—I’m so close… please let me cum, please please.” he pleads more and more, but then again, you pull away for the fifth time.
Tears sprang to his eyes, panting heavily and becoming more sexually frustrated now that he’s been denied so many times. You click your tongue, wiping away the excess saliva that had been running down your chin. “Nope. Where is the control room? If you tell me where it is, I’ll let you.” you say, lips shining with your spit and his precum. It’s exciting to see how you can make a man with so much confidence crumble by denying an orgasm. You won’t lie, he looks really good like this.
He’s already so fucked out—he can’t keep up with this much longer. Wilbur lets out a shaky breath before speaking. “It’s—It’s under the podium!” He responds hastily, finally giving in.
You hum at what he says, satisfied with his answer. You take him in your mouth again, immediately going down and choking on his cock. Your fingers shove back inside him, and he moans loudly, bucking his hips up to get more. He fucking loves it. Your mouth is hot and tight around him, sucking him off so fucking good. Not to mention, you’re incredibly good with your fingers.
He’s so close now, a few stray tears now falling down the sides of his face as he nears that impending orgasm. “I’m gonna fucking—cum… ohh fuck yes, yes—!” A whimper leaves him as he shoves his cock in further with a rough thrust, his cum coating the insides of your throat. You choke on a moan in surprise, your hands on his thighs tightening as you let him ride out his high. It’s the least you can do right now.
“Fuck! Fuck… o-oh my god.” he whines out, whole body shaking from the intensity of it. You pull back, patting his thighs gently. “Good boy… Thank you for the info. I’ll be back for more later.” you praise, then stand up to leave the room.
Wilbur then realizes he just fucked up all of his plans.