.......fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.....

It had started out as a side gig. Short on the rent one month--thank you, COVID, for the ass-fucking--Izzy Hands had decided to give OnlyFans a shot. It worked for Edward; he'd been streaming on Twitch before switching to OnlyFans, and he was making decent money, almost

$300 a month. Not enough to be the only source of income, but double the average numbers, and he was getting more subscribers by the day. Given that he'd only needed a couple hundred bucks, just until hours picked back up, what was the worst that could happen? He'd have to pay

the rent late, but Jackie was pretty understanding, to a point. He'd done the research and he knew his own situation. If there was anything he was good at, it was following directions. So he made a list of rules. 1. No face reveal. That meant body shots only, neck to ankle.

2. No bathroom kinks; they were just about the only thing that he'd say no to. 3. Nothing with animals. Beyond that, there wasn't anything else that he could think of. Fifteen minute sessions, two a night, and a live stream of "just playing around" was the aim, and to attract

subscribers, he'd have to have content to market. The first video Izzy filmed was simple; a masturbation video that showcased the size of his dick, the swell of his balls, and the Prince Albert piercing. The second video showed off his nipple bars, his tits, and the weighted

chains that connected his jewelry, up to the one-pound fishing weights. After the second video, he added a new rule. 4. Nothing permanent, and performer reserves the right to decline without explanation. Video three was a short demonstration of some of Izzy's favorite

toys and devices; a fisting dildo, a black rubber plug, neon orange beads. Clover clamps, and a stainless steel cock ring with a connected anal plug. Then he held up his one biggest self-pleasure splurge; the hand-held thrusting dildo. "For subscribers only," he said, pressing

the buttons to display the adjustable speed. "Biggest tipper gets to say when or if I get to come." Not fifteen minutes after the last video loaded and the profile went live, Izzy received his first DM, from MontyB. *Absolutely fascinated by the nipple and penis piercings.

Any chance I could persuade you to take a few close-up photos? A friend mentioned similar piercings enhancing sex and I am curious. MB* Before he could even answer, he got a ping. *MontyB has subscribed to your stream.* Fuck's sake, was he already getting a stalker?

But he answered Monty back. *Three pictures, one of each nipple and one of the Prince Albert, ten bucks.* Monty's answer was quick. *Done. And thank you for humoring me, Mr. Basilica.* Izzy just stared at the screen as ten bucks showed up in his tips, before the

pictures were taken and sent. Stalker, Izzy thought to himself. And a fucking idiot, at that. But he was already hooking the digital camera into the computer and zooming in on his chest. --- By the end of the week, Basilica had about a dozen subscribers and Monty had won

the bidding war on the first livestream with the hand-held. Izzy's stomach was clenched with nervous energy as he locked his bedroom door. He'd hung a set of black sheets on the walls, and had his bed cleaned up with fresh sheets. Monty had sent an incredibly maudlin

Spotify playlist, an hour of music that Izzy wouldn't have normally listened, even with a gun to his temple. But, the customer was always right, so he put the damn music on and started the stream. (open.spotify.com/playlist/2sn4V…)

Izzy wasn't a talker, he was more of an action man. "Right, welcome to the first subscriber livestream. You can call me Basilica, and this is Monty's show." Izzy was vaguely disappointed when Monty's voice was digitally masked. "You're using the playlist, fab!"

Fab. Izzy rolled his eyes, thankful that his face wasn't on the feed. "You sent it, this is your party." Another rough voice interrupted, sounding almost stereotypically Western Cowboy. The avatar was nothing but a well-endowed and leather-clad penis. "Talk on your own

time, I'm here for dicks!" His username was, unsurprisingly, CowpokerJack. "Rude," was Monty's comment, but Izzy took it to heart. He rolled onto his knees and presented his ass to the camera. He was already wearing one of his smaller plugs, with a gemstone on the base.

"Got a bit of a head start," Izzy narrated, pulling his cheeks apart to show off the plug's glittering decoration. "That's purty," Jack spoke up. "Makes me wanna stick my fingers up there." "The green suits you, Basilica. Makes you look like an exotic concubine, all decorated

and ready to present to the sultan," Monty said, voice already a little breathless. "How big is it?" To answer, Izzy pulled it out. "Not big, the middle size of a three plug set." A third voice complained that he hadn't used the largest size, but at the moment, Izzy was a

bit busy lubing up his fingers and sliding two at once into his stretched opening. "Fuck yeah, shove it up in there," Jack encouraged. "Add another." Izzy did as he was instructed, adding a third finger and stretching himself further. "Does that fuck-gun have extra dicks

or just the one?" Izzy was starting to hate CowpokerJack. But he stopped his fingers and started to move. "Basilica." Monty's masked voice was a little unsteady. "Put it back in." Izzy groaned softly, dragging the plug through the lubricant on his hole before pushing it in.

"Gorgeous," Monty complimented. Reaching under the edge of the bed, Izzy brought out the toolbox that held the handheld and its attachments. He laid the choices out on the bed and waited. The attachments varied from short and squat to regular size and shape to a silicon

monster that was textured with hard rubber dots and looked to be the size and circumference of a police baton and felt just as flexible. There was also a stroking sleeve and a Fleshlight that he didn't lay out this time. There was harsh panting from someone's open mike

and Izzy waited. "Do the big black one," Jack encouraged. "Nonsense, that looks incredibly uncomfortable. Basilica, you choose," Monty answered immediately. Izzy chose a flesh-toned penis with a solid head an a vein along the shaft. It wasn't the largest, but not the

smallest either, and attached it to the hand-held device. It was fully charged and he tested it quickly while he was changing things. "That is perfect, thank you." Izzy tried to imagine that he wasn't affected by Monty's kindness, but he was failing. "Don't thank me yet,"

Izzy grunted, getting back into position. He leaned against the pillows, hips elevated by a rolled-up bath towel, and spread his legs. Switching on the lowest setting, Izzy moved the handheld down. The thick, pulsing head of the fake cock had Izzy moaning as he took more of

the head into his stretched hole, and finally the length popped in. "Kick it up, Basilica," demanded CowpokerJack. "Don't hurt yourself, Basilica," Monty yelled over CowpokerJack's rambling. It felt odd to have Monty being a new friend,

but Izzy was starving for attention and affection. "Yes, sir," was Izzy's pained reply. "I'll be careful." Monty's concerned was ill-founded, but Izzy especially liked it when Monty gave him orders. So he dialed it up to the midway point of, and he gasped, hard.

The rubber cock was punching his inner body with a delightfully rough rhythm. The wide shaft stretched Izzy further with each swift thrust until the full width was pressing him open and his legs were spreading further to support him. "Oh, Basilica," Monty breathed, and the

microphone crackled with it. "Boy's got a hungry hole on 'im, for damn sure." A lewd grunt that made Izzy whine, and he muffled it in the pillow. "Wish that was my hog he was skinnin' like that." "Basilica, touch yourself," came Monty's command. "Nipples first, get them good

and wet." The fingers of Izzy's free hand went to his mouth and he slurped loudly, hips bucking against the machine. Wet fingertips rolled his right nipple first, tugging at the bar and squeezing the pebbled tip. Other voices chimed in, giving grunts and groans, and the

occasional *pull harder* or *twist it* or *turn it up,* all of which Izzy followed. Izzy had the crazy thought that he should have asked for a picture of Monty's dick, just so he could have chosen the closest one he had. But he lost the thought almost as soon as he had it. "Take

that cock ring and slip it on," Monty suggested. "Don't want you to come too quickly." "Fucker," Izzy answered, but it was more teasing than anything else. He did exactly as he was told, fingers fumbling as he snapped the leather strap around his cock and testicles.

"Such a good boy, Basilica," Monty rambled. "Can you take it full power? I'd love to see you fall apart with that thing pounding into you." Izzy had never really taken it up all the way. "Only three-quarters," he panted out, back arching to better display his bound

penis. "Take it all, honey, ride that fuck-gun!" "Don't hurt yourself," Monty repeated. "Ignore that crass moron. Your pleasure is half the fun." "Bullshit it is," Jack snapped back. "It's a fuck show, buddy, stop tryin' to make it roses and shit. Go on, boy, jack it up."

Izzy whined softly, but started to turn the machine up. "Excuse me, Basilica, but turn it off. Mister Cowpoker, this is my show, as he told you to begin with. If you don't like what I do, feel free to shut up and buy your own session." "He's got a point there, mate," said

the unlikely name of FrenchieFryGuy. "This is his show." "You know you can mute that guy," suggested SpriggsSprangSprung. "Prissy assholes. Guess the next round is on me. Get that ass stretched good, baby cakes, cause you're gonna have a long night riding that big

rubber fuck stick. And you'll be begging for mercy before I let you come." *CowpokerJack has left the stream* Izzy gave a sob of relief as Jack disappeared from the situation. "Basilica, I'm sorry about that. Please don't feel like you have to finish this." "No, Monty's

right, you shouldn't keep going," added SpriggsSprangSprung. "Guy kinda ruined the mood for everyone. But, um. I'll be back next time, you're absolutely hot." *SpriggsSprangSprung has left the stream* *FrenchieFryGuy has left the stream* Soon, the only one left was Monty. "I

want to make sure you're all right," he said quietly. "You didn't hurt yourself for that tosser, did you?" Izzy was stunned that anyone had come to his rescue. "M'fine," he muttered. "I'll get you a refund--" "Don't you dare," Monty interrupted. "You didn't do anything wrong

and you have nothing to apologize for. If you want to, I'd consider it perfectly even if you'd put away your toy, take the ring off, and pour yourself a drink." Izzy pulled the the dildo out, moaning softly as his hole throbbed around the emptiness. The cock ring came

loose in a series of snaps, and he laid back, panting as his cock jerked. "Mind if I get off first?" "Do you mind if I watch?" Monty asked. "If you're all right, I can leave you to it--" "I don't mind," Izzy answered, wrapping his hand around his cock. "Use your thumbnail to

flick across the slit. You did that in your video and the sound you made went straight to my head." Izzy knew just what Monty was talking about and he did exactly what he wanted. A slow, throaty groan came out of his throat and Monty made an echoing sound. "Yes, that's it,"

Monty encouraged, and Izzy realized that the muffled noise in the background had to be Monty's hand flying over his dick. "You getting off, too?" Izzy licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry as the flesh-on-flesh slap got louder. He rolled onto his hands and knees,

one hand jerking himself off while the other reached back to show off his stretched hole. "Come in there, why don't you?" Monty's mike crackled with the explosive breathing that heralded orgasm. "Fuck me," was Monty's reply, weak-sounding and breathless. "Maybe next time,"

Izzy teased, falling onto his side and shooting his seed on his chest in full view of the camera. There was a moment of silence while Izzy caught his breath, but when he reached for the camera, Monty stopped him. "Basilica?" "Yeah?"

"Thank you for a lovely evening." *MontyB has left the stream* Izzy turned off the camera, ending the stream. --- In the morning, there was a private message waiting on Izzy's phone. Curious, he checked. Two red, puffy nipples were freshly pierced with titanium bars

bars that looked incredibly similar to Izzy's own. *Had so much fun with yours last night, I had to get mine done!* The sender was Monty, of course. *I don't rate a dick pic?* Monty's answer was quick in coming, and Izzy braced himself. The dick in question was

as-yet undecorated, but if the hand holding it was any indication, Monty was EXTREMELY well endowed. Well enough to make Izzy reconsider anonymous sex for a minute or ten. *Forget Monty, I'm calling you John Holmes.* *I shall take that as a compliment.* ---

Izzy had been working on OnlyFans for a month, and he actually had regular customers. Monty, obviously, but also Frenchie, Spriggs, and a two-week visitor, ChefRoach, "just call me Roach, everyone does." And, of fucking course, CowpokerJack. Monty was mostly able to make Jack

pull his horns in, but Jack was still telling him and anyone else who would listen about how he was saving up "big money" to "outbid" Monty. So far he's managed to avoid that, because Monty, Spriggs, and the new guy were making sure that Jack didn't have a chance. Speaking of

which, Izzy scowled at his phone. He hadn't heard from Monty in a couple of days, and that was unusual. Izzy wasn't upset. He wasn't worried. The guy was just words on a screen and disjointed body parts in photos. "Breakfast that shitty?" Izzy looked up at his roommate.

"You're scowling at your oatmeal like it's broken into the house and fucked your mother." Ed parked his ass in the chair across the table. Izzy just shrugged it off and put his phone in his pocket. "Just checking email. Ben's after me to come back full time

and fix his fuck-ups, but soon as I do, you know I'm back on short hours." "Well, let's talk. I'm thinking about expanding my streams," Ed started. "A couple of my regulars were talking recipes between walk-throughs, and it got me thinking. I could diversify. Do a couple of

game streams and a couple of kitchen ones. Going every other day, that's a week of new content, easy." Izzy nodded. "Been telling you, your talents are wasted on game streams." Ed casually flipped him the middle finger. "I'm going to be doing a co-stream with another

vlogger, Stede Bonnet. He's local to the area, and does mostly foraging, nature streams, shit like that. But he's offering to do a joint venture, where I pick a recipe and he shows how to forage or buy locally sourced ingredients." "You're going to partner with a fucking

locavore, who will do nothing for your brand." "Look, the point of this is, I'm going to need help with this, getting it launched and some of the cooking. You're good behind the stove and you're smart enough to roll with how we do things. You help me out and I'll

cut you in on the tips. Ten percent, maybe more if this takes off like the game streams." "Fine," Izzy said with a heavy sigh. "I'll tell Ben to fuck off." "That's my Izzy! I'm going to meet Stede tomorrow, you want to come?" "No, I've got a stream of my own tomorrow,"

Izzy reminded. "But give him a middle finger for me." "Asshole," Ed said with fondness. "I'm going to be practicing on the new Zelda game for awhile, so if you need me for anything, buzz me." "Go Link," Izzy said flatly, not even pretending to be enthusiastic. ---

*Hey. Haven't heard from you.* --- *Terribly sorry, Basilica. I'm afraid I have been a little busy with my work schedule. I'm afraid I won't be able to make tomorrow's stream, but I will be back tomorrow night to see how things went.* *I will miss you, Bas. Perhaps you can

put together a quick highlight reel?* *No, but I might be talked into a private session for you.* *I am at your disposal. What do you need from me?* Izzy thought a moment. *You made me wait and worry, it's only fair that you have to wait, too.* *I have just the thing. I

will send you proof of my penitence tomorrow night.* *Who said anything about tomorrow? Now, Monty.* A photo was Monty's response, and when Izzy saw it, he answered immediately. *All three.* Izzy waited for the next message, and it was another photo. *Good. I'll talk to you

later. Tell me where you found it and why you have it.* Then he deliberately closed his messages and went back to his email.

The next day, Stede Bonnet was in a fucking *state.* He'd promised to meet Edward at the Cafe Caribe, but he hadn't anticipated that he'd be wearing weighted rubber balls in his ass or that his nipples would not fucking deflate around the bars because he was hard as a

rock and his lovely Basilica was a through and through delightful BASTARD. It'd been a little past a month, but he was already attached to him. Just as he was attached to Edward, and wasn't that confusing. He was well aware that he should be letting Basilica go, but it was

beginning to feel like an impossible task. *Hey. Haven't heard from you* after just two days pointed to Basilica being just as attached. But as much as they knew about each other, it was still so impersonal. Neither Stede nor Basilica had shown their faces, nor shared

their real names. It was easier with Edward; easier in that they'd seen each other, talked to each other, and Edward knew nothing about Stede's MontyB account. Didn't know that Stede had heard Edward talk about his roommate's pierced dick and how good it made sex feel.

Didn't know that Stede’s chest tightened like drowning when he thought about missing Basilica's stream. --- CowpokerJack was first to enter the stream, and Izzy felt sick to his stomach. The tip alert told him that CowpokerJack had tipped Basilica $500. No one but Monty

had the cash to beat that price, and he wasn't going to be there. Izzy's nausea grew worse, his stomach flipping and rolling like waves on a choppy ocean. "Well, looky here. Looks like I won the lottery this time." Jack's voice was smarmy and smug. "Where's your buddy?"

Two private messages pinged at once. SpriggsSprangSprung: CANCEL THE STREAM FrenchieFryGuy: I can report this guy and try to get him kicked out. SpriggsSprangSprung: Basilica, you are the performer, and you can tell him to fuck off. Right of refusal. Izzy swallowed roughly

because he wasn't accustomed to people treating him like... this. Like he mattered. Of course he knew it was just normal people being kind, but they'd never been kind *to him* before. He sent the same message to Frenchie and Spriggs; I'm fine, it's okay.

It most certainly was *not* fine, and Izzy was absolutely *not* okay. But he could handle this. Izzy fucking Hands could handle whatever was thrown at him. "Right, welcome to this stream, and it's Jack's game tonight so let's all just play nice or I'm shutting it down,"

he warned, because he'd already had to shut down a stream early because of Jack's bullshit. "So let's get started." Jack's voice was still smug, and Izzy fought not to vomit. "Bring out the fuck-gun, Bassy, and whip out the big black bastard." Izzy took a deep, slow breath

in through his nose and brought out the toolbox. He was quiet as he brought the handheld out and checked that it was fully charged. He paused, his hand hovering over the toolbox. The others were silent, and Izzy imagined that he could feel their pity. "Get on with it, boy,"

came Jack's smug voice again. "This is my party, and I wanna see you begging me to stop." "You don't have to be an asshole about it," Spriggs snapped. "Take your time, Basilica, We're all here to make sure this asshole doesn't hurt you." Jack had the audacity to laugh. "Big

talk from a bunch of pixel pansies on a screen. Bassy, go ahead and tie that pretty dick up, too, don't want you to come before I say so." The ugly laughter had bile rising in the back of his throat and Izzy struggled to swallow it down. But Spriggs's comments galvanized

him into action; he grabbed the baton-sized attachment and secured it carefully to the base. Laying it aside, Izzy brought out a leather cock ring. "Nope. The metal one from the video," Jack ordered. Izzy let the leather one drop and picked up the stainless steel one. The

heavy anal plug dragged uncomfortably as Izzy worked the ring on. "Now that's what I'm talking about," Jack purred as Izzy laid back on the bed. He lubed the black phallus heavily until it was glistening, and reached under himself to start stretching himself open for the

monster cock. He'd barely gotten one finger in before Jack's voice hit him like ice water. "That ought to be enough." A cacophony of voices erupted over the stream, all of them shouting until Jack roared over the others. "This is my fucking turn so shut the hell up!"

Izzy just stared at the screen; he should be canceling the stream, banning Jack from his platform. Monty would be the first one telling him to cancel out, and that's exactly why he couldn't. He couldn't let Monty get even deeper in his head. "Last warning," Izzy croaked.

"Next one to shout gets booted." Izzy ignored the private message from Spriggs that said, *we're not leaving you alone with this guy. please reconsider this and stop before he tells you to do something that is going to hurt you.* He slid his finger in again, and then wiped

the excess lubricant off before picking up the machine. He tried to force himself to relax and be loose-limbed, but he was so close to vomiting from the tension that he couldn't. The hard, blunt head of the fake cock pressed against his hole, but it would not fit. Reluctantly,

Izzy switched the machine on, the slick head pushing against his sphincter. It was ridiculously big, and he gritted his teeth. Grabbing the handle, Izzy added his own strength to the machine's RPMs, and the head finally broke through. A painful cry shot out of Izzy's throat,

feet flat on the mattress as the fought the urge to get away. His stomach rolled as his body cramped around the dildo and tried to push it back out. "Soundin' real sweet there, baby cakes," Jack encouraged. "Lemme see you take it all, down to the hilt." Izzy gave a soft, sick

little whimper and pawed at the machine control, turning the speed up. The relentless mechanical pounding didn't give Izzy the chance to breathe. It just pulled the dildo back and shoved it forward, more of the shaft making it in every stroke. Tears collected in the corners of

Izzy’s eyes, rolling silently down his face. He was glad that no one else could see, and he choked off each sob and each cramp as the machine pushed the rubber cock deeper into him. When he realized that he was begging, his voice was husky and grating. "Please stop, it's

too much, I'm not ready, please stop, please stop," the words running together like a river. CowpokerJack was *laughing.* "Aw, c'mon now, you're not even bloody, what's the crying about? Can't wait to see you take it all, stuffed up full with that thing hammering your

prostate. How long you think it'll be before you're begging me to keep it going and let you come?" Izzy couldn't think of anything except for the cock forcing itself into his body and the way his muscles cramped trying to push it out. Garbled pleading came out, but it made

absolutely no sense through his thick throat. He couldn't breathe; his breath was coming in short, harsh pants that were making him dizzy. Tendrils of blackness were beginning to weave in and out of his vision, his chest was starting to hurt. Darkness rushed up and dragged

him down. Pain spiked through his body and tore him from the blessed nothingness. Izzy realized, barely, that he'd only been out for seconds, but it'd been enough for the machine to work the dildo all the way inside him. The buzzing in his ears resolved into celebratory

whooping. "Fucking knew it, baby cakes, you took that fat cock like a fucking pro! Blasted my load all over the screen, wish it could been your pretty little tight ass--well, maybe not so tight now!" More whooping, and Izzy could barely form words. "Please stop now,"

he begged in a ruined voice. "Please." "You can do better than that. Why don'cha turn that thing up all the way and have a little fun?" Izzy could have cried, again. "No," he finally said. "I got you off, I can stop now." "Yes you can, Basilica." Izzy sobbed. That was

Monty's voice, and he collapsed on the bed. "Basilica, you are finished. Right now." Jack's voice busted in. "This is my party, Monty, and--" "How much." Even through the digital masking, Monty's tone was glacial. "Five c-notes," Jack bragged. "Fine." Izzy heard the

familiar ping of the tip jar over Jack's microphone, and, "Fuck me, you serious?" "Utterly. Get out of here and do not even breathe in Basilica's direction ever again. Or I'll spend three times that to find out who you are and I will thoroughly ruin your life. Do we have

an understanding?" "Fuck yeah, I'm out. Later, losers." *CowpokerJack has left the stream* Izzy reached shakily for the computer keyboard. *CowpokerJack has been banned from this channel * The channel cleared quickly, leaving Monty the only person left. "Basilica, I'm sorry

I wasn't here to help you." Izzy whimpered loudly as he eased the fake cock out of his body. Streaks of pink-tinted lube dripped out onto the whit bath towel underneath him. "You made it." "Basilica, where are you?" "Atlanta," he lied. "Supposing I bought a plane ticket."

"Don't waste your time or money," Izzy replied. "I won't be there." "I want to help you. Check and make sure he didn't hurt you, put you in a hot bath and soak your aches while I wash your hair." "Sounds nice," Izzy said honestly, but he didn't get that. "But I can look

out for myself." "Yes, but what if you didn't have to?" If he'd had the energy, he would have laughed. "Only person who looks out for me is me." Monty didn't answer for a moment. "Perhaps, but I'd like the chance to prove you wrong. If you change your mind, I will be

here. I won't miss another stream." "I'm not your responsibility. I know what I signed up for." Monty sighed. "No, you're not my responsibility, but I would like to think you're my friend and that you think of me as a friend." A friend. Yeah. "A friend. That watches

me on sex streams." "Well, friendship has to start somewhere. Besides, you've seen my dick. We have to be friends after that. Anyone who has visual evidence of my penis is automatically my friend." Dick pictures. "Monty, fuck. Are you--" "Don't worry about it.

You need to take a hot bath and look after yourself. I'm capable of handling myself." A quiet pause. "Open your Amazon wish list. There's a few things that I'd like to send you." Izzy shook his head, but went to his profile. He opened up the wish list, marked

the option of keeping his address private, and added a couple of books to the list. Then he sent it to Monty's messages. "Just put the book in the cart with the other stuff, and it'll get to me." "Thank you, Basilica." "Later, MontyB." *this live stream was ended by the host.*

Izzy fucking *hurt,* but he had to clean up the room before he could clean up himself. Docking his phone in the speaker mount (a birthday gift from Ed years ago) he brought up Spotify and found it was still on Monty's playlist--obviously, because Monty was the only idiot that

cared enough to make one. A half-scowl that he'd never admit was fond graced Izzy's face as he pressed shuffle. And after a couple of minutes, groaned and changed the track, because those lyrics were feeling a bit too on the nose. (Savage Garden, "The Animal Song")

None of the other tracks were that much better. But as he carefully disassembled the hand-held, he found that he was tapping his foot to "Weapon Of Choice," and he could barely hear "Groove Is In the Heart" over the water as he scrubbed the dildo clean, but hummed along with

what he could hear. "Fucking Goo Goo Dolls, this fucker has shit taste," Izzy muttered through "Iris" as he put the machine and the attachment back in the toolbox. He was finally calmed enough that he could ease the cock ring off without bringing tears to his eyes. He lubed

his cock up and sucked in a deep breath. Carefully, he worked the ring off, bending his dick almost double to slip it out, and then one testicle at a time. He ached after being hard for so long, but he wasn't even close to aroused any longer and he looked at his limp dick.

He washed the stainless steel off with soap and water, then dried it carefully and dropped it back into the box. A vicious kick sent the toolbox sliding under the bed, which suited Izzy because he did not want anything even thinking about getting close to his asshole for the

foreseeable future. The layer of towels on the bed saved him having to strip the bed, and he hid the one with the pink bloodstains on the bottom of the hamper. Finally, Izzy deemed the cleanup finished, and nearly staggered naked into the kitchen. Thank Christ Ed was still

out with his new twat. Izzy snatched a couple of water bottles, the half-gallon of pulp-free low acid orange juice with his name on it (Ed preferred pulp in his juice; Izzy's stomach did not), and his preferred dinner ingredients--

Peter Pan Creamy peanut butter, grape jelly and white bread. A knife got stuck between his teeth, and he kicked his bedroom door shut. Depositing his bounty on the vanity in his bathroom, Izzy leaned over the toilet and vomited up everything he'd been holding back.

After he was done, Izzy heaved himself up, still clinging to the toilet, and sat down on the closed lid. The bathroom was small enough that he could lean over the tub and start the water running. While it ran hot, Izzy cupped his hands under the faucet and rinsed his mouth out

with lukewarm water. Unlike his roommate, Izzy was not the bubble bath type. He was, however, the bath oils type, and he dumped a couple of capfuls of sandalwood and clove into the steamy water. He moved his snacks to the closed toilet seat, and put his phone in reach on

the floor. He made sure he could reach everything, because once he was down, he wasn't moving for a long while. The hot water cradled him as he sunk into it, and he completely submerged for as long as he could hold his breath. When he surfaced, he scrubbed the remaining tears

off his face and out of his beard. He was too old for this; it was why he didn't want to show his face. Greying beard, greying hair, craggy features decorating a care-worn face. He needed to stop. He's got enough tucked away for a couple of months at least, and he'd gotten

another offer from his pre-pandemic boss, Benjamin. It wasn't full time work, and the insurance premiums would be eating up most of the check... He'd made more with the streams and the videos than at his job, at least on short hours. Probably thanks to Monty, if he was

being brutally honest. It made him wonder what he'd dropped on that asshole Jack to convince him to walk away; he'd never admit to wanting to know. It would be too much like putting a price on his worth. Izzy personally thought a couple of hundred bucks was overkill.

Towels hung on the rack over Izzy's head, and he yanked one down to wad into a pillow that he stuffed behind his neck. The heat was beginning to work its magic on his aching body, and he closed his eyes. Jolted open in the next minute when his phone rang. He glared at Edward's

grinning face as he answered. "I was in the middle of a good dream," he grumped. "Liar, I hear you in the tub. Hey, my meet-up got cut short, Stede had a family emergency. I'm going to run a few errands, what do you want for dinner?" PB&J, Izzy thought to himself. "How about

Chinese? Lo mein, crab Rangoon, wonton soup?" "Yeah, sounds great! I could murder someone for a plate of orange chicken. Call you when I'm on the way home with food!" "Thanks, Edward." When he was off the phone, Izzy sighed again. He loved that happy bastard, but sometimes...

He'd just resettled himself in the tub when his notifications pinged. He cracked one eye open to see what it was, and it was an email from Amazon telling him that he was getting a package the next day. Fucking Monty. He was going to kill that fucker. Opening the

email, he scowled deeply. *This package contains a gift for Basilica.* Great. Surprises were not his favorite things, but he felt... light. Someone cared enough to give him a special gift. He didn't examine the feeling too deeply. --- Stede double-checked the order he'd

put together. Arnica cream, for aches and pain. Vitamin E for skin protection and softening. A clay lamp ring and a bottle of lavender oil for relaxation. Chamomile tea bags and a tea ball, a handful of different tea samplers. Wildflower honey. The books Basilica had put on his

list, as well as a couple of Stede's favorites. As a lark, he'd thrown in a couple of movies; Boondock Saints, Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart, and Dragnet with Dan Ackroyd. He was fairly certain that Basilica would hate Dragnet, but it amused him to imagine the angry sputtering.

His mouse hovered over the add to cart button. Stede didn't want to make Basilica feel like he couldn't take care of himself, but Stede had used these before, when he'd first begun to have anal sex and had misjudged things. Resolutely, he added the witch hazel suppositories to

his cart, and finished with a small, palm-size stuffed cat. He checked out before he could add anything else and paid for next-day delivery. He opted to include a little card, and the message was simply, feel better soon. M. ---

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