Reaper/Hanzo; Genji – shimadacest; rape; tentacle sex; chocking; rough sex; hair pulling; mild sounding – Reaper has got some toys and knows how to play with them.
The tentacle slides in deep, slippery and intrusive, and Hanzo cries out at the insane stretch of his rim, clamping down, inner muscles working to force the intruder out.
Genji surges forward on the chair he’s seated on, lifting up, but before his thighs can lose contact with the simple wood, the dark sinuous mass around Hanzo’s throat curls tighter, cutting off his air flow.
Genji plops down to the sound of his older brother’s desperate gurgling, Hanzo’s bound hands coming up and clawing at the tentacle that slips through his grasp like so much smoke.
Genji’s hands curl into frustrated fists, his angry tears hidden behind his visor.
Reaper laughs at him. At Hanzo. At the situation in general. He has a grand ol’ time and he’s making sure the brother’s know it.
“Why don’t you take it easy, Genji? I thought you were always one to enjoy a good show… Do you not like how pretty your brother looks speared open? *He* certainly seems to like it.”
Hanzo’s cock, forced into submission by the relentless, near violent pressure against his prostate, is dutifully hard, curved up into the air, bobbing gently with every slick, squelching thrust of the dark mass into his body.
He is stretched out, having to accommodate the tight grip around his throat, his spine arched and belly fluttering with quick little panting breaths.
Reaper has long since lost most of his human form. He is a dark, oily mass that has Hanzo enveloped, the inky tendrils lapping up at his sides and tickling his ribs.
“Take off your visor, Genji.”
Genji is rooted to the spot, staring, defiantly, then clenching his eyes shut when one tiny tendril starts curling around his brother’s fiercely swollen cock, the whispy end tickling the slit at the very top; flirting with the thought of dipping into his urethra.
“Take your visor off,” Reaper repeats, deep voice even more of a growl. Some of the playfulness has vanished, replaced with impatience. “I want to know that you are *looking* at him. I want to know you see what a *whore* your precious big brother is…”
Genji hesitates, fingers digging into the pliant fiber mesh covering part of his thighs. Hanzo’s sudden cry, quickly cut off by him gritting his teeth, has him jump to action. He unlatches his visor, face set in a deep scowl.
Reaper makes a sound like he’s purring with satisfaction, the tiny tendril carefully slipping back out of Hanzo’s flushed cock, taking with it a long string of pre-cum that stretches obscenely before finally snapping.
Hanzo’s cheeks are a dull red that quickly spreads down his throat and chest.
“Very good. You obey better now. They’ve tamed you, I take it.” Reaper’s eyes burn with some inner fire, staring at Genji above the swell of Hanzo’s shoulder as he directs the small tendril from before to gently curl around Hanzo’s sac and squeeze it.
Genji presses his lips into a defiant line. He will not give Reaper the satisfaction of answering. He stares right at his face, trying to ignore the way Hanzo’s bound hands jerk down, trying and failing to curl around the tendril around his testicles and pull it away.
The next sound he makes, however, has Genji looking despite himself: Hanzo jerking on the slippery mass impaling him and *moaning* low and rough, his face scrunching in humiliated mortification.
Reaper damn near howls with laughter.
“Oh so that’s it? That’s the spot?” he purrs, his face snuggling against Hanzo’s cheek like a lover. The thick tendril around his throat vanishes. Instead, something curls into Hanzo’s hair and pulls hard, baring his throat until Genji is sure his neck has to snap.
His fingers dig deeper into the fiber mesh lest he spring up and dash towards his brother.
Reaper’s movements become more rhythmic after that. An even, obscene push and drag motion that has Hanzo’s cock bob and his hands tremble, curled uselessly in front of his belly as he tries so hard to not react to whatever sinuous curl is making him lose his composure.
“Are you not getting desperate? Do you not want to get rid of this pesky… pressure? I’ve had you on edge for quite a while before your little brother stumbled in. You don’t want to show him how much you love taking it. How much you are addicted to me being able to fill your belly until you feel like you’re going to get sick…”
Reaper’s voice carries easily. He has never had trouble ensnaring an audience, and now, too, the Shimada brothers listen despite themselves.
Hanzo is baring his teeth, clenching his eyes shut. If he wants to deny the words, the effect is rendered useless by the sudden, almost shy shift of his hips: rocking on the thick tentacle spearing him open.
Fucking himself on it.
Genji’s mouth goes dry, his belly curling in a way that he can’t say whether it is dread or… something else.
“I know you want to come,” Reaper whispers, nosing against Hanzo’s cheek. “I’m not keeping you from it, you know. You can touch yourself whenever you want. There is no need for you to have to endure this any longer…”
Hanzo makes a weird sound; high and trembling like a whimper or whine. His hands are flexing helplessly, cock bouncing in the air. Reaper’s voice drops into an intimate murmur. He sounds almost… sympathetic.
“Just touch yourself.”
Genji watches, appalled, as Hanzo’s hands *do* move, then; sliding down, fingers trembling but becoming more sure as he takes his cock between his palms. Wrists bound as they are he has to use both hands to clumsily jerk himself off, but his face becomes slack when he feels the firm, familiar pressure of his own touch. Relieved.
He pleasures himself quick and shameless before his brother while Reaper keeps driving into his slack, warm body, chuckling all the way.
Cyberrat Writes 