For @schmogg for their excellent 3D work.
Reaper’s talons are fisted tightly in the short, white hair, keeping the soldier on a tight leash.
“Well? Get to it! Do you want to suck my cock or not? I have other options, I’m not dependent on a used up slut like you.”
He can hear Jack wheeze behind the mask, a slight static to the sound as the electronic within the visor seems to work in overdrive to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him – why his vitals were going all over the place.
Nothing was wrong with the soldier, of course. Nothing except that he was a goddamned cockwhore afraid to get dick taken away from him.
Jack strains against the hold, gloved fingers clamping around his knees because Reaper told him he had to fucking listen to his commands like they were gospel and he’s afraid he might accidentally reach for him anyway.
Gabriel watches his struggle impassively. He is standing like a granite statue, cool and impersonal – if not for the half-hard cock hanging out of his pants. The one Jack was going crazy for.
It was fun watching him struggle against the sharp talons, nearly ripping clumps of hair out in his mindless eagerness and fear that Reaper might make it true – might pack up and leave him kneeling alone in the warehouse they sought out this time.
He is grunting softly, the sound climbing in pitch and desperation the longer he gets held from his prize just a hand width apart – so close that if he were just able to use his hands, he could…
“Fuck you’re pathetic. You want that cock, don’t you? Then fucking get it! Can’t manage that when you have to work for it, hm? The poor guys you usually mug for their dicks probably have no idea what’s even happening. Too goddamn drunk.”
He listens to Jack’s groan – low and gurgling and wet sounding – and feels the weight on his arm increase when he starts to sag a little. He’s stopping to strain forward because he wants to lean back and listen to Gabriel spew abuse at him and he can’t have that, now, can he?
Gabriel makes a soft sound of disgust in the back of his throat and yanks the soldier’s head closer.
“There. I’m even doing the fucking work for you. Now suck my cock.”
He reaches down, curling a fist around the base of his dick and smears,the tip across Jack’s jaw guard. He smirks dark and satisfied behind his mask when the old soldier turns his face into it.
“Well? What now? Get my cock wet, whore. You know how to do that at least, don’t you? Your usual clientele has to be more than happy with just a tongue out drooling over their dicks.”
He can almost picture what was happening behind the mask: Jack’s mouth open and wet, tongue lapping at the inside of what was, if it came down to it, a muzzle.
Reaper wonders what the sensors are able to pick up; whether they let Jack smell his dick, so close yet so far – the sweat and musk overwhelming on his senses. He certainly acts like it. He’s whining like a bitch in heat, head coming forwards, nuzzling desperate and clumsy at the cock held out for him while Gabriel taunts: “Come get it, you lazy slut. I did all the work for you – just open your goddamn mouth and take my cock.”
There’s thin streams of blood trickling down Jack’s forehead from little nicks of Gabriel’s claws as he got to careless. The soldier either doesn’t seem to realize – or, indeed, care.
“You’re a disgrace,” Reaper whispers, voice a low, sibilant hiss as he finally has pity and wrenches the mask and visor from Jack’s face with a harsh hand. There’s a string of saliva connecting the wet bottom lip to the tight protecting mesh; his pupils are blown wide even through the new light filtering in. Everything looks messy and slick and his gaze doesn’t leave Gabriel’s goddamn dick. “You always were,” he continues, breathless, staring at the way Jack tries to fucking choke himself on his cock in his eagerness to suck it down his throat, wet gagging accompanying little, muffled groans of happiness.
He’s never seen Morrison more happy, more tranquil, than when he was warming a dick with his body.
“Good thing nobody outside the program knew what a disgusting slut you really were. Think they wouldn’t have let their precious children play with your toys if they’d known the real thing was getting used as a pissoir by his higher ranking officers and thank them for the privilege.
“I still remember getting ordered to seek you out in whatever corner of the complex they dragged you off to to play with and haul your ass into the showers because you were too goddamn drunk on getting dicked to do it yourself.”
He is cupping Jack’s jaw, almost lovingly tender, staring down at him as he gurgles around his cock, gets everything good and wet as he tries to bury his nose in Gabriel’s pubes. Everything was warm and tight and silky, Jack still knowing how Reaper liked it – even after all these years.
“Show me,” he rasps – and when nothing happens, the old soldier too enamored with sucking cock to listen to his demand, he slams the ball of his hand against his forehead none too gently, pushing him away.
Jack looks dizzy, mouth hanging open, a mix of saliva and salty pre-cum dribbling down his stubbled chin. His eyes become wet. He looks like he’s about to fucking bawl because Reaper denied him his dick.
“Show me,” he says again. He doesn’t need to explain; Jack knows exactly what he wants.
His cheeks turn ruddy red and he squirms on the spot; actually looking loathe to debase himself further, but a little glance at Reaper’s cock, wet and thick, jutting obscenely from the opening of his pants, has him turn around with a dry sob lodged somewhere in his throat.
The panties are pretty and electric blue. They fit his eyes.
Gabriel barks a laugh and places the sole of his boot against Jack’s upraised ass just because he can – nudges hard so the soldier’s cheek rubs through the dirt on the ground where he put it.
“You wanted to be pretty, eh? Did you order them online? One hand on your dick, jerking it while your team mates were going about their daily lives outside your door? Or did you go to a mall. Oh I bet you did. You wanted to see them up close and personal, didn’t you? Wanted to make sure they’re the exact right color so you can feel fucking pretty while you’re wearing them.”
He nudges again with his boot, none too gently. Jack is quiet, his eyes clenched shut, the ruddy flush on his cheeks deepening. Gabriel slowly squats down, sharp talons hooking into the back of the panties. He’s toying with the frilly lace.
“Did you enjoy it walking through a little dessous shop? You got off on the assistants watching you. Knowing exactly your type; that you’re not there to buy something for your wife but for yourself. People can read it in your face, you know. You’re an open book for those who know where to look, Morrison. They only need to take a glance at you and know what a fucking slut you are. Depraved old pervert looking to jerk off into pretty lingerie.”
The soldier is squirming. Gasping. His arms come up and he hides his face in the crook of one of them, shielding his head as if blows were raining in. Gabriel starts tugging his panties down slowly, he feels stupidly out of breath and tries to not let it on.
“Did you have your hands shoved in your pockets? Fondled your dick while you searched for the exact right pair? I bet you did. You were thinking about wearing them later; sitting in the communal room in some ratty undershirt and sweatpants while wearing your cute panties, nobody the wiser. Fuck.”
Jack has made a soft sound – high and trembling and pathetic – and suddenly Gabriel needed more. Needed to get his cock in, even if it were just…
“Show me how much you want my dick, Morrison. C’mon you filthy one-dollar-whore.”
He’s slapping one cheek harshly, leaving four thin, short scratches along the skin, bleeding sluggishly.
Jack moves like he’s in trance; fumbling for his own ass cheeks to pull them apart and show his hole off to the enemy. That tantalizing dark space, glistening wet and welcoming. Gabriel bites the tip of his tongue until he can taste blood so he wouldn’t groan at the sight like a fucking horny teen.
He wonders how Morrison still manages to look so enticing. Even knowing he’d been used like a communal toy, he couldn’t help but nudge the head of his dick in between the spread of his cheeks, while murmuring a low, indistinct mantra of: “Yeah. That’s it. Show me your filthy cunt.”
Jack is carefully still, seemingly not even breathing anymore. He wants Reaper’s cock so bad, he seems frozen to the place, stunned by his own need.
Gabriel grits his teeth, watching himself push in; spreading the buttery soft clench of Jack’s muscles around his tip, farther and farther until he’s spread just on the very edge of the ridge. A high, trembling sound is shivering out of the soldier’s throat. His muscles are working, feeling like a suckling, eager mouth, and Gabriel feels tears burning in his eyes, it feels so good.
He blinks once, twice, exhales sharply between clenched teeth, and finally gets himself back under control.
“There. Happy?”
Jack sobs, gloved fingers digging deeper into his cheeks, trying to spread farther.
“Deeper. Please.”
It’s the first thing he’s said, voice ruined. It’s so dark and gravelly, Reaper can barely make out the words.
“What’s that?”
“Deeper. Please. Oh god, I need…”
“I know what you need. I’m not giving it to you.”
Jack makes a noise that sounds so scandalized, it’s hilarious. Reaper grins behind his mask – more a baring of teeth – and nudges back and forth minimally; a supreme control over his hips and his own desire as he moves his dick; rocks just the tip through the warm, clutching entrance, fucking Jack on it.
“Don’t think you deserve more.”
The soldier’s shoulders are trembling, jerking, pulling up to his ears. He’s fucking crying, teeth dug into his bottom lip as he mindlessly rubs his face against the dirty floor of the warehouse. He’s going insane getting his ass spread on nothing but the tip of Gabriel’s cock, and he doesn’t dare to move back and fuck himself onto the thick length because Reaper hasn’t allowed him to, and he’s been trained well enough.
“Pathetic, filthy whore. I don’t know who’s been in here before me. Some random cocks you picked up in a dirty gas station bathroom, maybe. Got them to fuck you next to a broken toilet because you were in the neighborhood and just smelled your chance to get stuffed. I think you can be lucky I’m even getting this close.”
He’s clenching his teeth until his jaw hurts, fisting his cock and jerking it off in almost angry twists of his wrist, fingers cruel against the ladder piercing.
Jack makes a wet sound in the back of his throat, body jerking, breath coming harsh. He’s coming in his little panties on nothing but an inch of cock and mean words of abuse hissed at him in Gabriel’s low voice.
Reaper snarls and pulls out of the wet grip of his ass, the soft squelching sound enough to trigger his own release, eyebrows drawn together in a grimace of intense concentration and almost anger as he gets the crack of Jack’s ass sticky and warm with his cum.
“Pull your fucking pants back up,” he tells him afterwards, voice gruff, watching as Jack’s fingers tremble visibly even through the thick gloves he’s wearing.
“Wait-” he murmurs when the soldier has fought his way up unto shivering legs, eyes on the the open fly. “Leave that.”
Jack freezes, stares at him with wide eyes, helpless and still horny even though he’d just come – and then his face crumbles and he nods, not able to look into Gabriel’s face anymore because he’s willing to go out like that; fly open, bright blue panties visible, wet and see-through from his cum.
Cyberrat Writes 