“Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting.”
Jesse squints and bites his lip to stop sobbing – it only throws his aim off. He can barely see through the tears and needs way too long to line the shot up. Commander Reyes is silent behind him – lets him take his time to finally pull the trigger.
Jesse can just about see the target in the distance faintly wobble – no bullseye but at least he hit it – before a new point of white hot pain races down his right arm starting at the swell of his shoulder.
He cries out, cock pulsing heavy and thick in his slacks, arm hanging loose at his side. He is clutching Peacekeeper studiously hard, not wanting to let it fall to the ground like last time the Commander had not been happy about that one.
“Count,” Reyes barks and Jesse sobs out: “Six!”
“Next one. You still good?” An arm, thick as a tree trunk, comes around him, large hand settling in his crotch while the Commander takes a drag of his cigarette right next to his face. Jesse can feel the heat from the ember at the tip and is not sure whether the dribble soaked up by his underwear is piss or pre-cum. He’s excited and nervous enough for both.
Reyes squeezes his cock and chuckles. “Yeah, you’re good. Next.”
Jesse takes a huge, gulping breath and lifts his arm again. There are six little dots on the swell of his shoulder, carefully burned into his flesh for each target he managed to hit. He is a mess, face snotty and wet, but the Commander promised him if he’d manage to get ten this time, he’d blow him in the lockers.
There are only four more targets.
His hand is shaking too much and he can’t see the end of the range. His head is pounding, thinking of the delicious hurt on his shoulder, and the hand on his cock and the cigarette dangling from Reyes’ mouth, ashes precariously long, threatening to drop down onto his neck….
He shoots – and then he fires his shot as his trigger finger spasms, as his whole body spasms, creaming into his shorts in warm, wet, humiliating pulses.
He misses the target, of course, and the fact that he won’t get another brand is almost worse than the fact that Reyes is laughing at him and patting his messy crotch like he would the head of a child.
“Better luck next time, McCree.”
Cyberrat Writes 