the boiler room

…the boiler room. That's where the real fun begins."

James's stomach twisted at the words, his heart racing. He knew what was coming next—the boiler room, the dark, cramped space where the air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, and where the cobwebs clung to every surface. The room was small, and the only way to reach the top of the boiler was to climb the narrow ladder, his naked body on full display.

With a deep breath, he rose to his feet, the feather duster falling forgotten to the floor. The old man's eyes followed him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Take your time," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation.

James made his way to the boiler room, his cock bobbing with each step, his muscles aching from the day's labor. The room was smaller than he remembered, the shadows seeming to close in around him as he approached the ladder. He climbed, his hands and feet slipping slightly on the rungs, his body moving almost of its own accord.

The heat from the boiler washed over him, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. He knew what was expected of him—to clean the upper reaches of the boiler where the cobwebs clung like ghosts of Christmases past. His heart raced as he reached the top, the ladder creaking under his weight. He turned to face Mr. Castlegate, his eyes flickering over the old man's eager gaze.

James gritted his teeth as he climbed the ladder, his muscles straining with the effort. He knew what the old man was looking at—his ass, spread wide as he stretched to reach the cobwebs, his cheeks flexing with each movement. The heat from the boiler was intense, making his skin slick with sweat, and he could feel the old man's gaze burning into him like a brand.

"Hold still," Mr. Castlegate called up, his voice thick with lust. "Let me get a good look at you."

James balanced on the ladder, his arms reaching up to swipe at the cobwebs that clung to the ceiling beams. The position was awkward, his legs spread wide to maintain his balance, and his ass pushed out invitingly towards the old man below. The heat from the boiler was stifling, making his skin slick with sweat, and his erection throbbed painfully against his stomach with each movement.

Mr. Castlegate leaned against the ladder, his hand hovering just above James's firm buttocks, feigned concern for the boy's safety a thinly veiled excuse to keep his eyes glued to the intimate view presented before him. "Careful up there," he said, his voice a low rumble that did nothing to hide the excitement lacing his words. "Let me hold the ladder steady for you."

James gritted his teeth, his muscles taut as he stretched to reach the cobwebs clinging to the rafters. The old man's hand hovered dangerously close, and he could feel the heat of Mr. Castlegate's gaze as it roamed the length of his body, pausing at his exposed asshole.

The ladder creaked under his weight as he shifted, trying to maintain his balance while also keeping his dignity. His pose was one that would leave nothing to the imagination—his legs spread wide, his back arched, his cock standing proud. The old man's hand remained a constant presence, a reminder of his power and James's vulnerability.

The old man's breath was hot against the backs of his thighs, his hand trembling slightly as it held the ladder steady.

"You're doing such a good job, James," Mr. Castlegate said, his voice a low rumble of approval. "Just a bit more, and you'll have earned your keep."

He could feel the old man's eyes devouring him, his gaze lingering on the intimate juncture of his thighs. Each stroke of the duster sent shivers down his spine, the cobwebs sticking to his skin as he reached upwards. The air in the boiler room was thick with heat and the scent of oil, making his skin glisten with a sheen of sweat that only served to highlight his muscles.

Mr. Castlegate's hand remained a constant presence, his fingers brushing against James's thighs as if to steady the ladder, but his eyes never left James's exposed hole. The lecherous expression on his face was clear as he took in the sight of James's tight ass and the way his cock jerked with every movement.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, James finished the last of the cobwebs and descended the ladder, his legs shaking from the exertion and the tension of the moment. His erection had not abated, and he felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as the old man stepped away.

Mr. Castlegate' eyes never left James's body as he climbed down, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Good work," he said, his voice thick with something unspoken. "I think you've earned your pay."

James's legs trembled as he stepped off the ladder, his cock still erect despite the exhaustion that weighed him down. He knew what was expected of him—a show of gratitude, a nod to the old man's perverse power over him. He bent over, his ass still high in the air, and pretended to tie his invisible shoe, giving Mr. Castlegate one last look at his tight hole before he straightened up.

The old man leaned in close, his breath hot and wet against James's ear. "You're quite the little show-off, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble of amusement. "You know how much I enjoy watching you work."

James felt a shiver run down his spine, his face burning with a mix of humiliation and unwelcome excitement. He nodded, his voice tight. "Yes, sir," he managed to murmur, his eyes downcast.

Mr. Castlegate chuckled, the sound like gravel being crushed underfoot. "You're learning, boy," he said, his hand coming up to stroke James's cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw before sliding down to caress his neck. "Now, let's get you paid and then you can go home to rest those weary muscles."

He took the crumpled dollars from Mr. Caslegate's hand, his skin sticky with sweat and dust.

"Thank you, sir," he murmured, his eyes downcast. The old man's hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before withdrawing, a smug smile playing on his lips.

James quickly dressed, eager to leave the oppressive weight of Mr. Castellanos's gaze. As he stepped outside, the cool evening air was a balm to his flushed skin, the gentle breeze a stark contrast to the suffocating tension that had filled the house. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the quiet street in a soft, amber glow.

As he walked home, his thoughts drifted back to the one school day from a week ago and the humiliation he'd suffered.