Tasked

“My name is Jacob and I’m an addict,” I said for the first time out loud in public.

“Welcome, Jacob,” the crowd murmured.

Considering who I was, I’d found a small, exclusive meeting with other high-profile drug addicts.

“I abused cocaine and oxy. My addiction cost me my dignity, and almost my job.”

Nods of recognition throughout the group.

“One vote in my favor saved me from being ousted by the board as CEO of the company I founded with blood, sweat, and tears.”

I took a deep breath at that reminder.

“That‘s when I decided that enough was enough. I've been clean for the last three weeks, but I'll need support to stay drug-free.”

“Thank you for your share, Jacob,” the woman chairing the meeting said.

I knew all too well who she was, I was surprised that she of all people was also here.

After the meeting, I was approached by the guy I’d been eye-fucking throughout the entire meeting. He was in his late twenties and he was absolutely stunning. Taller than me, he had chocolate eyes, short brown hair, and was wearing all black.

His clothes reminded me of a costume from a sci-fi movie. Considering the profile of the people in this room, it was probably haute couture and very, very expensive.

He pulled a black business card out of nowhere and held it out for me between his index and middle fingers like a Magician with a playing card.

I felt compelled to take it, and when I did, he grabbed my wrist and said, “When you inevitably fail, call me. I have an… alternative way of helping you.”

He left me standing there in shock, as he turned on his heel and exited the building as quietly as a thief in the night.

What the actual fuck just happened?!

Who was this elusive creature? And why did he think that I couldn‘t stay clean? More importantly, what could his method possibly be?

During the next few meetings, the mystery man didn’t show up and I’d honestly forgotten about him and his bizarre proposal.

I was under an enormous amount of pressure to present the next-gen iteration of our Large Language Model to the board.

We weren’t pioneers in the field but had delivered the most advanced AI a year ago. Now, we desperately needed our next upgrade to knock the competition out of the park.

I’d already pulled four all-nighters with the team to iron out some of the glitches before the public launch.

I was utterly exhausted, and I needed a boost. I grabbed my phone and was about to call my dealer when…

Oh, fuck!

I grabbed my hair in both hands and pulled. Had I cracked already? Fuck, fuck, fuck! Was my willpower really that nonexistent?

I wanted to scream!

That’s when I remembered the black card. For some insane reason, relief washed over me. I had absolutely no idea what the guy would propose, but a chance at an alternative…

I called the number and he answered after the third ring.

“You lasted longer than I expected,” he said in that voice.

“How could you possibly know that this is me?” I asked suspiciously.

“You’re the only one who has this number, Mr. Jacob Frost, CEO of Icarus AI.”

“I need help,” I said in desperation. “…but you need to explain yourself first.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Can we talk face-to-face?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you into my office or my home. I’ll send you a location.”

I found him sitting in a booth in the back of the bar, staring at his phone. He was even more gorgeous than I remembered. I waved to the bartender to bring me my usual and sat down in front of him.

“I’m a busy man, make it quick,” I said.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” he said without raising his voice. “I’m not one of your interns.”

I was completely caught off guard by his rebuke and instantly… hard? What the fuck?!

“You have a serious problem, and I’m offering a solution. Do you want details or not?”

I carefully nodded.

I was shocked that despite my age and stature, I was letting myself be chastised by someone at least fifteen years my junior.

“Good,” he said. “Let me ask you this? Do you know what cocaine does inside your brain?”

I was tempted to pull out my phone and ask my own fucking AI. Instead, I shook my head.

“Cocaine affects the same part of the brain as an orgasm, except it does so for a lot longer.”

My dick pulsed again. I wanted that cocky mouth to give me an orgasm instead of a lecture.

“You feel invincible… until it wears off, leaving your brain wanting more.”

His arrogance made me want to take him to the bathroom and fuck him until he whimpered.

“You like to take things even further. Oxycodone after a high takes you down so low that the next line of coke pulls you out of an even deeper pit.”

My hard-on was hurting me, and I could hardly concentrate on his haughty blabbing.

“Well, thank you for explaining my addiction,” I said sarcastically. “You still haven‘t told me why I’m sitting here listening to you.”

“Silence!” he said, raising a finger. “I’m not done talking yet.”

I wanted to grab his finger and bend it in the wrong direction, yet the look in his eyes was making my libido go haywire.

“I will break your need for both drugs by disciplining your mind and giving you the willpower to reject them.”

“How?” I demanded.

“By providing your brain with the chemicals it craves from its original source,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be taking complete control of your sex life.”

I almost spat out my drink. What the actual fuck?!

“You’re a Dom?!” I asked in shock. “No offense to your profession, but I don’t have time to be tied up and whipped.”

I stood up to leave and signaled for the check.

“Sit down!” he commanded calmly.

To my shock, I did as I was told.

“I have a Degree in Neuroscience, bondage is not necessary,” he said. “We’ll be using a combination of psychological manipulation and sexual gratification.”

He was going to make me forget the coke by making me come? The idea was driving me wild.

“What kind of manipulation?” I asked, trying not to think about getting my hands on him.

“You’ll receive a series of tasks each week. Complete the tasks, receive your reward.”

I scoffed and said, “I’m not a rat in a maze.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, drawing a hand through his hair. “A rat that’s desperate for the drugs at the center.”

“Let’s say I agree to this madness, I want a signed NDA and a free trial.”

“I’ll sign the NDA,” he said. “But you can stuff the free trial up your billion-dollar asshole.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I was already leaking pre-cum into my designer underwear, and all I could think about was what I wanted to stuff up his asshole.

“Take this,” he said, handing me a phone. “You’ll receive your instructions via message.”

“How will you know that I’ve completed the tasks?” I asked.

“Because you like to win at all costs and I can spot a lie a mile away,” he said with a smile.

Ok then.

“I expect a transfer of ten thousand dollars worth of Bitcoin every week, for the sake of your anonymity and mine. First payment tomorrow.”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Non-negotiable,” he said, tapping his finger on the table once.

“You have a week to prove your method works or I’m out.”

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

I’d already decided to bullshit my way through the tasks and fuck him once. For a specimen like him… it would be money well spent.

“What do I call you?” I asked, having completely forgotten to ask for a name.

“Troy,” he said, finishing his drink.

My tiredness had completely evaporated after the… stimulating conversation. I hadn’t snorted a single line, but I felt intensely alive and very fucking horny.

I still needed to go back to the office. Would he consider blowing me if I sent the Bitcoin now?