Hanzo harshly flicks the very tip of McCree’s ear, making him flinch and howl in enraged indignation and pain.
“No, dog. I haven’t given you permission yet.”
He watches McCree in the mirror ahead; the way he gingerly moves his jaw, teeth clacking on the metal bit Hanzo forced between them earlier. He is tilting his head blindly, cheeks flushed a dull red beneath the blindfold.
Hanzo curls the reins once more around his fist, watching how it pulls McCree’s head back; showing off the strong line of his jaw, liberally peppered with stubble. He would need to shave him if he were to sample the dog’s mouth between his legs again, but for now he had other ideas.
Carefully – silently – he places the phone on the floor in front of his stolen treasure.
McCree whines when the motion brings them closer together; Hanzo’s cock slipping into the crack of the dog’s ass, leaving a wet smear at his tail bone before he pulls back once again.
McCree huffs like a stallion and lowers his head, putting its weight on the reins in Hanzo’s hand. Hanzo can see the way his ribs expand with his careful, deep breaths. He delights in how vocal McCree is, and hopes his commander hasn’t hung up yet.
(He doubts he has. Reyes was obsessive enough to want to hear the degradation of his former toy.)
“Do you want this, dog?” Hanzo accompanies the leering question by slapping his cock against McCree’s ass. The mutt shuffles his knees farther apart, back arching down to try and open his ass up farther. Hanzo was quite sure he would have spread his cheeks for him, had his arms not been bound behind his back – pure safety measures.
And as lovely as the sight was – the knowledge that he’d broken the American dog down enough to get him to display like a bitch in heat – it would not do; no, not at all.
Hanzo jerks at the reins, and slaps his other hand against McCree’s thigh, connecting with a loud, satisfying smack.
McCree’s head rears back, a startled shout ripping out of his throat. His head tries to swerve from side to side, disoriented, blood that had rushed from his face, coming back to suffuse his cheeks as his shout dwindled into a moan, lips wet and swollen around the bit digging into the corners of his mouth.
“I asked you a question,” Hanzo goads, voice silky and dripping with venom. He pets a hand down McCree’s sweaty side in a parody of affection, then curls it around his cock once more to help himself slip it through the crack with slow, sensual thrusts. “Do. You. Want. This.”
His fingers tickle McCree’s bound testicles; feeling how warm and swollen they are. Filled with warm, thick cum that the dog had been collecting for a week now.
McCree looks feverish, even with his eyes blindfolded. Drool is slicking down his bottom lip, teeth gnashing on the bit as he shakes his head against the tight reins without any relief. Hanzo’s fist is curled tight around the leather, not giving an inch.
“Yesh,” McCree mumbles, voice wrecked and deep. “Pleashe… gi’ me… gi’ me…”
Hanzo’s fingers trail further up, easily dipping into McCree’s hole; soft and accepting from days of relentless fucking. It feels hot; the rim puffy and nearly inflamed looking. A pretty little thing mouthing weakly at the tip of his cock whenever he deigns to give it to him.
McCree sobs when he feels his captor’s fingers invade his exhausted body; it’s an animal sound; raw and beautiful. Hanzo feels his cock flex at the thought of what it had to do to his commander.
Oh how he wished to be a fly on that particular wall – wherever Reyes had holed himself up, trying to figure out where Hanzo had squirreled away his boy.
Unfortunately for him, a dragon was very skilled at hoarding his treasure.
“You’re so open, still. A few weeks of good use and your body is gagging for cock. You did not have this in your old life, yes? Nobody to take care of your needs. Utilize you like your body craves.”
He is jeering, and he can see the dog’s hackles rise for just a moment before the fight seems to entirely go out of McCree. His voice is cracked, and weepy when he begs, “Please give me your cock? Please, I need your cock; need you to fuck me, need… need… p-p-puh-lease, master?”
He was barely intelligible, his blubbering only adding to the bit between his teeth – but Hanzo felt like the message had been clear enough.
Oh – had it been clear enough.
“Good dogs do get a treat.”
He stares down between them as he starts pressing forward; feeding his cock inch by inch to the hungry, soft hole hugging him warm and tight the deeper he slips.
McCree is groaning mindlessly, weight hanging onto Hanzo’s fist as he starts sagging and not caring about the bit pulling painfully against the corners of his mouth.
It seems like he had finally broken this particular stallion in.
Hanzo fucks him slow and easy. There is no rush and no need for further needling – McCree, trapped in darkness, riles himself up better anyway.
He howls softly with every new gentle nudge inside, body sweating and shaking as he tries to anticipate whatever could come next.
When Hanzo lays his left hand on his right hip with a gentle pat, the dog nearly jumps out of his skin and needs to be – quite literally – reined back in.
He is drooling on the phone, Hanzo realizes dimly, however he is loathe to move and push it farther away. He just hopes it is still working.
—
Reyes is gnashing his teeth, cock angry and hard in his combat pants, fingers digging into the arm rest of his rickety armchair.
He would kill Shimada when he finally got his hands on him. He would kill him slow and painful; make him cry like a babe for his mamá.
But not before fucking his toy in front of his bloodied nose, and showing him how it was done.
Cyberrat Writes 