Category: Allgemein

I’d love to see what you do with “Do you want this? Why don’t you beg for it, hm?” with cocky!Morrison and needy!Genji. Totally up to you if it’s set in the past or present <3

Morrison leans farther back in his chair, knees splayed wide. He has not bothered pushing down his heavy pants; just pulled his dick out from the opening in the front, idly weighing it on the wide palm of his hand.

His cheek is resting on the fist of the other hand, elbow braced on the armrest of his chair.

He watches Shimada, and Shimada looks back: unblinking, unmoving, unnerving. His dark eyes are glowing a faint red, like coals smoldering away, and sometimes Jack imagines there to be a furnace inside him; a heavy, perpetually working machine that doesn’t let the young man come to rest, and is responsible for his ever aggressive nature.

Kneeling on the floor, watching his cock – the blunt head appearing again and again from the foreskin, wet and dark and inviting – he looks a lot calmer than usual.

“Do you want this?” he murmurs, thumb moving, pulling down on his foreskin again; lifting his cock to present it to Shimada in all its glory.

He looks hungry, the metal of his jaw glinting as it moves faintly, light reflecting on the smooth surface.

“Why don’t you beg for it, hm?”

Shimada’s mouth falls open, though he is not saying a word. Morrison doesn’t think he has ever actually hear him speak. It is not of importance: his body speaks for him if he so chose.

His mouth falls open, tongue lolling out.

In the back of his throat, Morrison can see metal glinting. The bottom row of his teeth are shiny titanium. His tongue, however… that is all human. Soft and pink and glistening with the saliva that’s gathering rapidly the longer he stares at Morrison’s cock. Close enough to smell. Too far to lap at the broad tip.

If the tongue isn’t human, Angela outdid herself modelling it perfectly. Organically. He wonders if she knew what it would be used for.

He stops leaning his head on his fist, and instead uses the hand to reach for Shimada. His eyes flinch towards the movement, but he stays steady otherwise.

Morrison cups his jaw; pushes his thumb into the open, accepting mouth, idly dragging the gloved finger across Shimada’s tongue.

“You want my cock?” he murmurs, pulling himself a little further towards him, cock almost close enough to touch his lips. Shimada stays steadfast but his eyes… his eyes are almost crossing; trying to get a look. Saliva dripping from the tip of his perfect little tongue.

He wants it. He wants it dearly.

Morrison plays with his tongue just a little longer. Just long enough to show him he is not in charge: and then he slips a little closer still, indulging himself. Slapping the fat weight of his dick against Shimada’s cheeks. Smears it across the prominent cheekbones Angela had been able to reform. Beautiful.

“You’re a good boy, hm? I always get those complaints about you… people are afraid of you… but you’re nothing but a little kitty cat, are you?”

Shimada is drooling liberally, staring up at him, still as a statue until Morrison finally pops the swollen head inside his open, wanting mouth.

“Yeah,” he grunts, slumping back in his chair, eyes going half-lidded as Shimada suckles, tongue cradling what little he’s been given to play with. “Just a little kitty cat wanting some cream and loving.”

Ooohhh Doomzo with “Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting” !!!

“Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting.”

Hanzo takes a shuddering breath. He studiously does not look at Akande – he seems embarrassed about his outbreak, his cheeks wet with tears and his voice raw from his unadulterated sobs.

His sudden breakdown had come at somewhat of a surprise, but he seemed all the calmer for it, now.

He is meek as the next slap hits his red ass, almost whispering ‘Eight’. Akande hums thoughtfully, one huge hand slowly rubbing across Hanzo’s back; down to his tailbone and then all the way back up to the nape of his neck where he curled his fingers to hold him down.

It is not needed,  as Hanzo is lying heavy and limp across his lap, but the lord of Shimada Castle seems to like it all the same.

The next slap coaxes another sob out of him, but no longer as earth shattering and bone deep as the ones from before. It is almost an aftershock. A small hiccup as his ass gets warmed up and the sting dulls into a deep nestled pain.

“Ten,” Akande counts for him the last slap, voice low and measured, palm motionless once again as it just feels up the hot, tender skin. “You did very well.”

He had been surprised as the Lord had called for his special services, but now he feels like he understands a bit better.

Divested of his heavy, traditional robes, Lord Hanzo Shimada looks almost like a boy. Small and vulnerable.

Akande’s big fingers find their way gently between his cheeks, touching the virgin pink furl of his asshole.

A mighty sob shakes Hanzo’s body, and he cries out something. A plea for more. A plea for him to stop. A plea for mercy. All and nothing.

“Shh,” he murmurs, fingers slowly rounding the warm, tender opening. “You’re being so good for me.”

He will pet him more, and then stand him up; dress him himself to make sure everything is in perfect order before he steps in front of his servants once more.

But for now, he’ll let him calm down. Let him dry his tears against Akande’s loose pants, and whimper like a recalcitrant schoolkid.