Genyatta Just The Tip that I promised ~~~ @robotfvckers @mujaween


“M-Master…” Genji sounds overwhelmed, mumbling against Zenyatta’s back and fogging up the gleaming chrome with his moist breath. He’s found out about the tender little space his Master had hidden a couple days ago but he still seems at a loss for words.

Zenyatta can feel his fingertips trembling as they skirt the metallic edge of his maintenance orifice, uncharacteristically shy as they don’t quite dare to dip in and rub against the smooth silicone that lines it; thick enough to produce a tight, stout channel originally designed to keep the highly sensitive plug secure that had to be connected to the port hidden behind, but now the unending source of Genji’s (happy) misery.

“So soft,” his student whispers, and Zenyatta can feel him shift minutely, receptors registering the warmth of his cheek as he turns his head and presses it against Zenyatta’s shoulder blade.

His posterior orifice is not as sensitive as his valve – by far not as sensitive – yet Genji’s skilled fingers feel nice rounding the very edges again and again, hypnotically and soothing. Comforting, almost – enough so that Zenyatta feels a vague flush of shame at how swollen his valve had become, inner workings producing slick that has started to drip in long, thin strings of teal towards the ground from the plush swell of his folds.

There is no urgency in their coupling, and Zenyatta thrives on it; focusing on the gentle crest of feedback as Genji’s clever fingers leave his maintenance orifice for a moment to slide through the mess of his folds and scoop up the oily slick there.

He uses it to tease deeper into the tight channel, coaxing the silicone to retreat for the wriggling digits carefully, nervously slipping in deeper – and Zenyatta is unprepared for the sudden frizz of feeling as Genji’s fingertip bumps into the sensitive socket all too soon.

Zenyatta’s back arches, voice glitching as he cries out softly, valve pulsing warm and insistent beneath what his body deems the wrong orifice, systems confused as to why Genji is not paying attention to the swollen folds and fat, glowing node sitting at their apex.

“G-Genji,” he hums, hands shaking mildly as he pushes against the slick floor, looking for purchase. “C-Careful.”

“Master Zenyatta,” Genji whispers, fingers still scissoring deep, the tips flirting around the painfully sensitive plug, more careful now. “You’re so tight back here… there is not much room at all…”

Zenyatta’s fans kick on as his body’s temperature spikes suddenly, his silicone cock emerging from its hiding space with an embarrassingly wet suction sound.

“Genji… please,” Zenyatta murmurs, voice fraying. Every time Genji’s curious digit scrapes against the plug, the a jolt of near painful feedback zips up Zenyatta’s spinal column, sending the readings in his visual quick and merciless into the reds.

“I can’t believe you have this,” Genji whispers breathless, fingers slipping out with a wet slide before he shuffles forwards and a new intrusion spreads Zenyatta wide, makes him hiccup and his gold chin clank noisily against the floor as he jerks, knees spreading wider uselessly as if that would make it easier to spread for the swollen tip of Genji’s cock.

“Keep still, Master…” Genji’s voice sounds so strained, almost whiney; on the verge of tears just from trying to squeeze the tip of his cock into Zenyatta’s swollen passage, the thick silicone walls unwilling to spread more than what their intended use allows.

One of Zenyatta’s hands travels down, shivering, jerking as his processes start glitching out. His valve is searingly hot to the touch, probably steaming subtly as everything gets rerouted to his pleasure centers, protocols still tripping over each other as they try to figure out why Genji is using the wrong orifice – why he is so determined to try and squeeze his cock where it has no right to be, and Zenyatta hiccups out little static noises, silicone cock straining, valve dripping profusely as Genji grunts above him, working his hips, trying with insufferable patience to cram his cock into-

“There,” he rasps, “I think… I think that’s as far as I can go.” He barks out a laugh, sounding a little hysteric as his hips jerk and his tip slips a bit deeper… just that bit that makes it press up against Zenyatta’s inner plug and have bright lights dance in his vision, a long warbling sound of static and feedback singing from his voicebox, cock bobbing eagerly and the node at the top of his valve flashing-

“Just the tip.. fuck, I can only fit the tip inside,” Genji whimpers, decidedly teary now, hips shimmying back and forth to move the head of his cock in the tight squeeze of Zenyatta’s maintenance orifice.

Zenyatta offlines. He doesn’t know for how long – figures that it must have been only seconds because Genji is still panting, still whining above him as he tries to get off with the tip of his cock nestled inside the impossibly tight space.

Zenyatta wants to tell him to pull out; to change orifices and pound the dripping, swollen mess of his valve before he short circuits completely, but his voice box is frayed and his body’s processes are so very confused; directing every single input into the throbbing, unrelenting river of pleasure coursing along Zenyatta’s nodes.

When Genji pulls out, his cum splashing in cooling, sticky ropes against Zenyatta’s overheating frame, it is enough to make him come again; valve squirting loud and noisy, filthy sounds as slick drips from his folds and splashes onto the ground.

Genji has to be talking – he always is; so self-satisfied when he can find a new way to make his Master debase himself – but all Zenyatta hears is static, vision flickering and body jerking as pleasure ricochets through his body, inner plug seemingly throbbing with pleasure-pain even though it is impossible for it to do so.

“I can make you come on just the tip of my cock, Master,” Genji whispers, suddenly blanketing him, cheek pressed against the side of Zenyatta’s faceplate. He sounds so in awe; so satisfied-

“I’ve n-n-never doubted it, my S-S-Student,” Zenyatta manages to murmur, voice fraying at the edges and body almost reluctantly starting to cool down.

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