Cucked by the Office Bully

Shadows of Ambition

The grand ballroom was the kind of place where everyone pretended to be important, but the only thing thicker than the cologne was the stench of desperation. Polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, all of it just a fancy backdrop for the same old office politics—guys who'd sell their own mothers for a shot at the next rung up the ladder. Jason moved through the crowd with Artemis on his arm, her black dress painted onto her body so tight it looked like it might split if she so much as bent over. Every step she took, the fabric slid up her thighs, and Jason could feel the eyes on her—on them—hungry, jealous, and knowing. Everyone had heard about Ulysses' promotion, and everyone knew Jason had been the one left holding his own limp dick. His chest knotted up as he spotted Ulysses at the bar, surrounded by ass-kissers, his laugh booming over the crowd like he owned the place, which, in a way, he did.

Artemis squeezed Jason's arm, but it was the kind of squeeze you give a dog before you leave it at the vet—automatic, empty, just muscle memory from too many years together. She looked like a fucking goddess tonight, her hair spilling over her shoulders, green eyes sharp and hungry, her tits and ass poured into that dress like she was daring every man in the room to stare. And they did. Jason saw the way their eyes stuck to her, the way their tongues practically lolled out, and for once, it didn't make him proud. It made him feel like a chump. She'd said she wanted to support him, but he knew the truth—she was here for the show, for the attention, maybe even for the thrill of being wanted by someone who wasn't him. Ulysses turned, all broad shoulders and smug, square-jawed confidence, his eyes crawling over Artemis like he was already unwrapping her in his head. "Jason, old buddy," he boomed, slapping Jason's shoulder so hard it almost knocked the wind out of him. "And Artemis—fuck, you look incredible. That dress is dangerous." Ulysses didn't even bother to hide the way he looked at her, and Jason felt his face burn, a mix of anger and a sick, humiliating heat that made his cock twitch in his pants.

Artemis smiled, that dimple popping in her cheek, her eyes locking onto Ulysses like she was daring him to do something about it. "Congratulations, Ulysses. You earned it," she purred, her voice dripping with the same syrupy warmth she'd once reserved for Jason, back when she actually wanted to fuck him. Jason watched the color rise in her cheeks, her pulse hammering at her throat, and he knew it wasn't just the champagne making her squirm. Her thighs shifted under the table, the dress riding up just enough to show a flash of skin, and Jason felt a sick jolt of arousal and jealousy twist in his gut. He forced a smile, raising his glass in a limp salute. "Yeah, congrats. Real big win." The words tasted like shit, but he swallowed them anyway, just like he'd swallowed every other humiliation Ulysses had served him. Around them, coworkers pretended not to notice, but Jason caught the smirks, the whispers—everyone knew Ulysses played dirty, and everyone knew Jason was the one left holding his own limp dick.

The party got louder, the music swelling, but all Jason could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Ulysses had Artemis wrapped around his finger, his hand sliding down her back during a toast, fingers lingering just above her ass like he owned it. Jason saw her shiver, her nipples poking through the thin dress, her body betraying her in front of everyone. She tried to play it cool, but he could see the way her thighs pressed together, the way her breath hitched every time Ulysses leaned in. Jason got dragged away by a couple of coworkers, their fake sympathy about the promotion barely registering. "Next time, man," they said, but Jason was too busy watching Ulysses whisper something filthy in Artemis' ear, making her laugh—a real, throaty laugh that made Jason's balls ache with humiliation. Ulysses' aftershave mixed with Artemis' perfume, the two of them practically fucking with their eyes while Jason stood there, the invisible man, his cock hard and his pride in the gutter.

Jason's brain went into overdrive, serving up pornographic images he couldn't stop: Artemis pinned against a wall, Ulysses' hands all over her, her moans muffled against his neck while Jason stood outside, hard and helpless. The more he tried to push the thoughts away, the harder his cock got, the humiliation burning through him like acid. He gripped his glass so tight he thought it might shatter, the laughter around him turning into a chorus of jeers. Mark from accounting slithered up, reeking of cheap whiskey, and grinned. "Ulysses always gets what he wants, huh? Not just the corner office, either." The words hit Jason like a kick in the balls, his drink suddenly sour in his mouth, Artemis' laughter ringing out from across the room, every note a reminder that he was the punchline to his own joke—and his dick was still hard for it.

Artemis was practically vibrating, the heat rolling off Ulysses making her squirm in her seat. Her cheeks burned, her thighs pressed together, and when Ulysses' knee bumped hers, it was like he'd flipped a switch between her legs. Her nipples strained against the dress, begging for attention, and she shot a glance at Jason—poor, nervous Jason, watching from across the room, his eyes full of that kicked-puppy look she used to find endearing. Now it just made her wetter. Ulysses leaned in, his hand gripping her arm, his voice low and dirty. "You know, Artemis, sometimes you just have to take what you want." The words hung in the air, thick with promise, and Artemis felt her pussy clench around nothing, desperate for more than Jason could ever give her.

The tension was thick enough to choke on. Jason tried to rejoin them, but Artemis was already making her escape, claiming she needed to "freshen up"—as if anyone believed that. He caught her slipping off with Ulysses, her hand lingering on his arm, and Jason felt his heart hammering in his chest, his cock twitching in his pants like a traitor. He stayed at the bar, drinking alone while his coworkers shot him those looks—half pity, half amusement, all of them knowing exactly what was happening. The glass clinked against nothing, the champagne fizzing on his tongue like a cruel joke. Jason couldn't stop picturing it: Ulysses pinning Artemis against the wall, her dress hiked up, her mouth open for him, while Jason stood outside, hard and humiliated, watching the woman he loved get taken by a man who'd already taken everything else.

A muffled giggle floated out from the hallway, and Jason knew—knew in his bones—what was happening. He pictured Artemis' dress bunched around her waist, Ulysses' hands all over her, taking what Jason had always pretended was his. The party kept spinning, everyone else oblivious, but Jason stood there, cock hard, stomach churning, knowing he was about to watch his whole life get fucked right in front of him.