Ethan Lancaster was no stranger to the internet’s hidden corners. As the 52-year-old CEO of his own boutique software company, he had spent years navigating the digital world, indulging his curiosities in the privacy of his home. But nothing quite prepared him for the night he stumbled upon UnveiledMen, an exhibitionist website where men bared everything—their bodies, their secrets, their shameless desires.
It started as idle curiosity, an amused click through grainy videos and high-resolution selfies, some tasteful, others daringly explicit. Ethan scrolled past men sprawled on beds, kneeling in showers, stroking themselves in front of open windows. It was thrilling—watching the raw confidence, the way these men offered themselves up to the anonymous gaze of the internet.
Then he saw him.
At first, it was just another post—a young man posing in nothing but a jockstrap, cock half-hard, body lean with the kind of effortless fitness that came from youth rather than the gym. His face was partially visible, lips slightly parted, a hint of amusement in his expression. Ethan's breath hitched when he saw the name on the account: CodeSlave94.
No.
It couldn’t be.
He clicked the profile. More pictures loaded. More videos. CodeSlave94 wasn’t shy. He exposed everything: his cock, his hole, his toy collection. One post caught Ethan’s eye—a careless snapshot of legal documents strewn across a desk, one of them a partially visible Social Security card. Ethan zoomed in, his pulse racing.
The name was unmistakable.
Nathan Cole.
A programmer in his company. Thirty-one years old. Soft-spoken, intelligent, always polite in meetings. An excellent coder with a knack for solving complex problems. The realization sent a thrill down Ethan’s spine.
He should close the tab. He should forget what he saw.
Instead, Ethan did the opposite. He created an anonymous account.
The first message was simple.
You should be bolder.
Nathan’s reply came hours later. How do you mean?
Try walking around with a plug all day.
Ethan half-expected Nathan to balk, to log off and disappear. But the next day, when Nathan passed him in the hallway, there was something different in his walk—slightly stiff, controlled. Ethan imagined the plug inside him, stretching him, reminding him of his secret submission.
The game had begun.
Over the following weeks, Ethan pushed further. Nathan obeyed. From taking selfies in the company restroom to slipping his hand inside his pants during meetings, every new dare made Ethan’s pulse quicken. He watched, delighted, as Nathan surrendered to the thrill, craving more.
Then came the biggest challenge.
Wear a mask. Go to the old warehouse district. Let whoever comes take you.
Ethan knew he had gone too far. It was reckless. Dangerous.
But Nathan agreed.
Ethan arrived that night, hidden in the shadows, watching as Nathan knelt on the concrete floor, naked but for the black mask covering his face. The air was thick with anticipation.
Ethan stepped forward.
Nathan shivered. "Master?"
Ethan said nothing. Instead, he reached for Nathan’s chin, tilting his face upward. He could take him right here, right now, and Nathan would never know it was him.
Except—
Nathan smirked beneath the mask. "I always knew it was you."
Ethan froze.
Nathan leaned closer, voice dripping with amusement. "And I know you don’t want to stop."
A shudder ran through Ethan’s body. He had been in control all along.
Or so he thought.
Ethan’s mind raced. The careful anonymity he had wrapped himself in was gone, unraveled by the young man kneeling before him.
Nathan tilted his head, waiting. “Well? What’s next, sir?”
Ethan exhaled sharply. The power dynamic had shifted in an instant. He had spent weeks orchestrating these scenarios, pushing Nathan further, watching him obey. But now, standing here in the dim warehouse, the lines blurred.
He could walk away. Pretend none of this happened. Fire Nathan, even.
But he didn’t want to.
Instead, he traced a finger along Nathan’s jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You’ve been playing me this whole time.”
Nathan’s smirk widened. “Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.” He shifted, exposing himself further, his body open, inviting. “And maybe I liked it.”
Ethan felt something dark and electric coil inside him. He had spent years in control, years as the powerful businessman who dictated every detail of his life. Now, faced with Nathan’s audacity, with his knowing submission, something cracked open inside him.
He knelt.
Nathan inhaled sharply as Ethan grabbed his chin, tilting his masked face toward him. “If you knew,” Ethan murmured, “why didn’t you stop?”
Nathan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Because I wanted to see what kind of man you really are.”
Ethan’s pulse thundered. “And?”
Nathan reached up, slipping the mask off his face, exposing his flushed cheeks, his dilated pupils. “I think you’re exactly the man I hoped you’d be.”
Ethan’s restraint shattered.
He claimed Nathan’s mouth, their bodies colliding, weeks of tension erupting into raw, unfiltered desire. The warehouse walls echoed with gasps and moans, their roles dissolving into something deeper, something more dangerous.
Neither of them would ever be the same.
It started as idle curiosity, an amused click through grainy videos and high-resolution selfies, some tasteful, others daringly explicit. Ethan scrolled past men sprawled on beds, kneeling in showers, stroking themselves in front of open windows. It was thrilling—watching the raw confidence, the way these men offered themselves up to the anonymous gaze of the internet.
Then he saw him.
At first, it was just another post—a young man posing in nothing but a jockstrap, cock half-hard, body lean with the kind of effortless fitness that came from youth rather than the gym. His face was partially visible, lips slightly parted, a hint of amusement in his expression. Ethan's breath hitched when he saw the name on the account: CodeSlave94.
No.
It couldn’t be.
He clicked the profile. More pictures loaded. More videos. CodeSlave94 wasn’t shy. He exposed everything: his cock, his hole, his toy collection. One post caught Ethan’s eye—a careless snapshot of legal documents strewn across a desk, one of them a partially visible Social Security card. Ethan zoomed in, his pulse racing.
The name was unmistakable.
Nathan Cole.
A programmer in his company. Thirty-one years old. Soft-spoken, intelligent, always polite in meetings. An excellent coder with a knack for solving complex problems. The realization sent a thrill down Ethan’s spine.
He should close the tab. He should forget what he saw.
Instead, Ethan did the opposite. He created an anonymous account.
The first message was simple.
You should be bolder.
Nathan’s reply came hours later. How do you mean?
Try walking around with a plug all day.
Ethan half-expected Nathan to balk, to log off and disappear. But the next day, when Nathan passed him in the hallway, there was something different in his walk—slightly stiff, controlled. Ethan imagined the plug inside him, stretching him, reminding him of his secret submission.
The game had begun.
Over the following weeks, Ethan pushed further. Nathan obeyed. From taking selfies in the company restroom to slipping his hand inside his pants during meetings, every new dare made Ethan’s pulse quicken. He watched, delighted, as Nathan surrendered to the thrill, craving more.
Then came the biggest challenge.
Wear a mask. Go to the old warehouse district. Let whoever comes take you.
Ethan knew he had gone too far. It was reckless. Dangerous.
But Nathan agreed.
Ethan arrived that night, hidden in the shadows, watching as Nathan knelt on the concrete floor, naked but for the black mask covering his face. The air was thick with anticipation.
Ethan stepped forward.
Nathan shivered. "Master?"
Ethan said nothing. Instead, he reached for Nathan’s chin, tilting his face upward. He could take him right here, right now, and Nathan would never know it was him.
Except—
Nathan smirked beneath the mask. "I always knew it was you."
Ethan froze.
Nathan leaned closer, voice dripping with amusement. "And I know you don’t want to stop."
A shudder ran through Ethan’s body. He had been in control all along.
Or so he thought.
Ethan’s mind raced. The careful anonymity he had wrapped himself in was gone, unraveled by the young man kneeling before him.
Nathan tilted his head, waiting. “Well? What’s next, sir?”
Ethan exhaled sharply. The power dynamic had shifted in an instant. He had spent weeks orchestrating these scenarios, pushing Nathan further, watching him obey. But now, standing here in the dim warehouse, the lines blurred.
He could walk away. Pretend none of this happened. Fire Nathan, even.
But he didn’t want to.
Instead, he traced a finger along Nathan’s jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You’ve been playing me this whole time.”
Nathan’s smirk widened. “Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.” He shifted, exposing himself further, his body open, inviting. “And maybe I liked it.”
Ethan felt something dark and electric coil inside him. He had spent years in control, years as the powerful businessman who dictated every detail of his life. Now, faced with Nathan’s audacity, with his knowing submission, something cracked open inside him.
He knelt.
Nathan inhaled sharply as Ethan grabbed his chin, tilting his masked face toward him. “If you knew,” Ethan murmured, “why didn’t you stop?”
Nathan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Because I wanted to see what kind of man you really are.”
Ethan’s pulse thundered. “And?”
Nathan reached up, slipping the mask off his face, exposing his flushed cheeks, his dilated pupils. “I think you’re exactly the man I hoped you’d be.”
Ethan’s restraint shattered.
He claimed Nathan’s mouth, their bodies colliding, weeks of tension erupting into raw, unfiltered desire. The warehouse walls echoed with gasps and moans, their roles dissolving into something deeper, something more dangerous.
Neither of them would ever be the same.
