The whore is as eager in bed as he had looked down in the lobby. His dark eyes gleam as he catches sight of McCree’s cock, looking obscene and naked as it is just hanging out of his open jeans. Long and swollen and drooping under its own weight.

The whore slinks closer where he had been fiddling with the pillows on the bed, a slow flush creeping up on his regal cheek bones.

Down in the lobby where all the establishment’s employees had been waiting, this one had caught McCree’s eyes immediately; looking hungry for dick while trying not to seem like it.

The little tag hanging from his collar reads Hanzo and Jesse can’t help playing with it the moment he is close enough, the whore’s fingers going around his cock like he can’t help himself; like he has to feel the silky skin gliding through the loose tunnel of his fist.

This one loved his job – even though he seemed determined to scowl his way through it. Pouting at his own lewd greed.

Jesse smirks, tugs on the name tag, then lets go to scratch fingers through Hanzo’s beard.

“Why don’t you lie down, babydoll. Got somethin’ real nice planned.”

His eyes flick down, contemplating the generous swell of the whore’s tits; displayed proudly between the folds of his loose shirt.

Hanzo seems loath to let go of McCree’s cock. He carefully pinches the soft lip of his foreskin and tugs on it. He looks like he wants to protest, but then he inclines his chin and steps back.

.o.

“Damn… your tits…”

Jesse huffs through his nose, chin on his collar bones, staring down at his own dick slipping through the oiled valley of Hanzo’s chest.

The little bottle is still clutched in McCree’s hand; the liquid warm and fragrant – and he is so very liberal with applying it. He can’t get enough of feeling the slick glide in the snug fold that Hanzo’s pecs create.

The whore has jewelry, too: pretty golden nipple rings that make his tits pout, connected by a dainty chain that is currently draped loosely across the back of Jesse’s cock.

Whenever he fucks forward far enough to dab the wet tip of his dick against Hanzo’s chin, the chain pulls tight against his hips and Hanzo’s mouth drops open, lips wet and dark red.

“Push ‘em together,” Jesse grunts, fingers of the hand not clutching the oil vial coming to one ring to tug. Hanzo makes a soft breathless sound at that; tries to twist away even as he brings up his hands, framing his pecs: pushing them together to deepen the valley that Jesse is fucking through.

The little name tag is bouncing against Hanzo’s throat.

“Oh that’s it,” Jesse murmurs, hips liquid and smooth as they roll, fucking and watching the plush tits; the way his nipples get dark red and swollen from the abuse. “You’re sensitive, aren’t you? What a gorgeous whore you are. Fuck, your tits are perfect. Could spend hours just playing with ya.”

Hanzo is staring up at him, tongue out, trying to lick at his cock whenever he comes close enough. He looks out of it; no longer able to keep up his aloof act.

This one loves getting fucked. He looks almost adoringly up at Jesse; moves his hands until his fingers are framing his swollen nipples; offering them up for Jesse to torture some more.

McCree grunts, leaning forward, one hand petting clumsily through Hanzo’s hair.

“Pretty little whore offering up her gorgeous tits. Gotta be the star of this house, hm? Are you Master’s little pet? Yeah… yeah I bet you are. Pretty slut…”

Another experiment. I never wrote docking before and I got… ~alerted~ to longer-than-average foreskins… I feel like this experiment went better than the last

@kirinlust @bonebo

McCree’s cock was… fascinating. Hanzo has never played with one that made him work to get his tongue at the glans; hidden in velvety foreskin even when fully erect; so erect that it was hanging at an awkward half-mast; trying to stand up but too heavy with blood to actually do so.

He’s never played with a cock that had such a generous fold of foreskin; one that he could suckle into his mouth, tongue questing to dip into the opening, searching for the blunt, sticky tip of McCree’s cock beneath.

McCree seemed to love it. There was no self-consciousness in his demeanor; he groaned and shifted, hips lifting, offering up his cock, watching with heavy lidded eyes as Hanzo slurped and sucked; getting everything messy with spit because there was no way he could neatly play with McCree’s cock; not when it felt so good to wriggle his tongue into the silky folds of the hood covering McCree’s glans and try to wriggle between foreskin and tip; lapping at the generous amounts of pre-cum gathered there.

The best – the most fascinating – thing about the whole situation, however, was when McCree half rolled on top of him with a low grunt, body hot and heavy against his side, murmuring: “Watch this” as he palmed his large fist around his big cock and jerked off lazily; showing Hanzo for a few moments how the foreskin would roll down and show off the smooth, wet tip of his cock before practically snapping across it once again; tight and a little rubbery and making Hanzo’s mouth water.

It was not the only thing – the main thing – that Jesse wanted to show him, though.

What he did want to show him was how good his foreskin felt around his cock – lining both of them up, tip to tip, his large fist having pulled back just to slowly glide upwards again; Hanzo watching, eyes wide, mouth hanging open as Jesse’s foreskin slipped smoothly across the wide head of his fat cock; and then easily – laughably so – enveloped the tip of his own dick.

It was… it was embarrassing; maybe even humiliating to watch how far it could engulf him; Jesse’s fingers eager to manipulate the silky skin; pulling and tugging on it, making it stretch farther to encompass more of Hanzo’s admittedly small cock… engulfing it more than halfway down before there really was no give any more to have – and Hanzo…

Hanzo couldn’t believe the feeling; the heat of the velvety skin around him; the wetness as Jesse’s generously leaking pre-cum seeped down and began wetting him; smoothing the way for Jesse to curl his big fist around the join of their cocks and jerk them off together, the movement not much but making Hanzo want to fuck forward; fuck into Jesse’s foreskin like he would deep dick a fleshlight.

Tears shot into his eyes, nose running as he felt the intense pleasure of bumping their sensitive tips together while getting fucked by Jesse’s generous, his… his long foreskin.

“Oh God,” he grunted, teeth gnashing, hand jerking up to claw at Jesse’s bicep. “Oh God…” He is wheezing, abdomen hot, cock jerking as the smaller tip bumps against Jesse’s dick; then glances off, dragging in a small circle around the fat glans; pressing against his foreskin from the inside until Jesse’s nostrils flare and he breathes deeper. Heavier.

Hanzo comes too fast. Way too fast. Humiliatingly fast. He jerks and gurgles, swallowing down the warning that would have come too late anyway as his hips start jerking and he does fuck Jesse’s foreskin after all, little aborted minute thrusts as he creams inside the silky folds until it bubbles out around his cock in an unbelievable mess.

Jesse slowly pulls back, dark eyes turned down, watching how rosy Hanzo’s cock looks even beneath the smear of cum. He keeps staring as he begins jerking himself; using Hanzo’s cum in his foreskin as lube; grunting low at the filthy squelching noises it makes.

A very tiny (*cough cough*) drabble with a shrunk Hanzo… I didn’t know what I was doing, it was my first time writing anything remotely like this, so it’s… rough.

I also don’t take the blame on me own, so I’m dragging @robotfvckers and @kirinlust down with me.

Winston had said the effects of the machine would not hold on for long; that they needn’t worry about any prolonged aftereffects.

Jesse wasn’t sure how right he was; he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to forget the sight of Hanzo being shrinked to little more than thumb sized – and not for the reason anybody else wouldn’t be able to forget.

Yes, at first it had been funny; especially since Hanzo just stared back at their laughing faces with the utmost impassiveness. By now, almost a week later… it was… it was hot.

McCree couldn’t stop looking. Hanzo was as delicate as a tiny doll; his features so small and still so perfect, tiny body a marvel – and so very very familiar to McCree.

Familiar enough that he wondered how it would be if he…

.o.

He couldn’t believe Hanzo was letting him do this to him.

Sitting in his palm, letting himself get carefully peeled out of his perfect little clothes while leaning back, tiny hand bracing against the ball of McCree’s thumb.

He was showing off; arching his back, presenting his small tits with the minuscule pink nipples. When Jesse reaches for him, his blunt, large forefinger looked obscene; the rough skin almost too much for the small bump of Hanzo’s nipple. Still – he could feel the tiny peak. Could see Hanzo’s face go lax, mouth dropping open.

There was no way for him to fuck this miniature version of his lover; he had been thinking about it, feverishly, fucking into his fist, wondering if he could maybe, with just enough lube, squeeze the very tip of his pinky into that horribly tiny opening-

(He’d wondered, staring down at the sight of his big, brutish fingers curled around his big, brutish cock – how it would be to have Hanzo curled around it; lapping at the glans with his tiny tongue; playing with the silky, generous foreskin with both goddamn hands. He’d wondered how it would be to have Hanzo’s whole body curled around his dick and squeezing it like…-)

“Jesse…” Hanzo’s voice was barely audible to human ears; he flushed, pressing his lips into a straight, strict line. He didn’t like talking in front of any of them; still, his body was more than eloquent; naked and tiny and perfect, his little cock cautiously interested. He was just as confused over this developments as Jesse.

Jesse stared, curled his thumb around, brought it between Hanzo’s legs, holding his lover in the palm of his hand; and carefully, gently pressed it against those perfect, round balls; sitting small and delicate beneath the line of Hanzo’s cock.

Hanzo’s eyes went wide, thighs spasming around Jesse’s digit; then he moved: jack knifing forward and curling around the thumb, hugging to it tightly, eyes clenched shut in a way that Jesse was wondering if he had hurt him – until he heard the noise; the soft little sigh that Hanzo allowed himself before he started jerking his hips, his small ass dragging against the wide palm of Jesse’s hand.

He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving his lover making love to his goddamn thumb; dragging his junk against the rough skin of it.

He wondered how Hanzo would like to get licked; bathing him in his tongue. Maybe dragging it across that tiny, rosy hole he had.

Oh god…

That’s it, keep cumming – mchanzo pls?

“Thaaat’s it,” McCree croons, eyes alight on Hanzo’s face. It is twisted, eyes clenched shut, teeth bared; glinting with sweat as he shudders, the impressive muscles of his belly clenching again and again. “Keep coming, babydoll.”

Hanzo’s hands are at his head, fingers curled into his palms. That he hasn’t tried to reach for Jesse yet – tried wrenching his hand away from his cock or push his fingers out from his ass – speaks volumes about the insane self-discipline of his submissive.

He can’t believe how much Hanzo is coming; how his cock hasn’t stopped lazily drooling cum for almost a minute now – the wet dick flexing in McCree’s loose grip as his fingers press against Hanzo’s prostate with unrelenting but gentle pressure, minutely rubbing to stimulate him.

There are tears at the corners of his eyes, and as Jesse watches, one tear rolls down his his temple, vanishing in his greying hair. He looks like he is being tortured; the pool of cum on his stomach widening and slipping in sticky drops down the sides of his shivering belly.

“Good boy. That’s it. Damn, babydoll… you were being so good for me, were you? Not touching your pretty cock for days, just like I said… look how much you can come for me.”

Hanzo’s jaw unclenches for just a moment; long enough to let him sob, his head throwing back, throat stretched and bulging, flushing a dark red as he keeps coming on Jesse’s finger, his body shaking and hips jerking in small thrusts up and back; jittery as if he were being electrocuted – more tears slipping from his eyes.

“Just a little longer,” Jesse croaks, boyishly fascinated by Hanzo’s absolute submission. “Just a tiny bit longer.”

As much as he loved it – how his daddy fucked him slowly, deeply, overwhelming him till his awareness became nothing but the cock filling him, he hated how lazy he would be. Especially when he said “how about you choose darling'” already reclining against the mass of pillows behind him.

Because Jesse knew how this would go; Hanzo crawling towards him, mouth already watering at the sight of the dark, fat cock lying in the crease of one thigh.

He’d do all the work; drooling all over it in his greed to fuck his throat, going cross-eyed with the intense presence of Jesse all around him; his large thighs bracketing him securely; his warmth almost sweltering; his scent overpowering his senses – and McCree would simply enjoy the attentions, playing with Hanzo’s hair idly, calling him the sweetest pet names and sometimes, occasionally he would lift his sturdy hips and nudge his cock just a little deeper to hear Hanzo gag on it; see his eyes fill up with tears.

“That’s it,” he’d coo, “You love Daddy’s cock.”

And Hanzo did. He loved Jesse’s dick; he loved his huge, hairy thighs and his wide, sturdy hips. He loved his hirsute belly and broad shoulders. He loved how broad he was; so broad that even a grown men like he was feeling dwarfed and small.

Secure.

Stupidly, idiotically secure to a point he whispered the endearment once as he rode him, everything so overwhelming, so all consuming, his leg stumps tingling and his fingers twisting into McCree’s chest hair as he took all of his cock until he was sure he had to feel it in the back of his throat; and he’d not even realized he’d whimpered a small, pathetic sounding ‘Daddy’ in midst of the throaty, animalistic groans…

He’d just love it even more if Daddy would dick him down with it too; hold him against the mattress and make him take it. Fill him up until Hanzo felt like begging him to stop; that there couldn’t be even an inch more he could take; that Jesse had to stop cramming that fat, heavy cock into him because otherwise he had to… he… had to…

“Please,” Hanzo whispers, eyes clenched shut, high cheekbones dark with color. He is not well suited to begging. He feels exposed and ridiculous. Enough so that he can feel himself getting mean; can feel the sharp edges just beneath his skin, threatening to lash out at Jesse if he so much as chuckled right now-

“Aw hell, darlin,” the man rumbles. He can hear him move and shift around. He can feel him, too; the mattress dipping and groaning under his weight. “How could I say no to such a sweet invitation?”

And Hanzo gets what he wants – just not in the way he envisioned. It is so much… so much better as McCree crawls over him like a mountain, his strong barrel chest to Hanzo’s shoulder blades, pressing him down as an affectionate, scruffy chin nuzzles the side of his face.

He can barely breathe beneath him. McCree is pressing him down and filling him up in little rolls of his meaty hips and Hanzo can barely get in enough air to gasp.

Jesse fucks like a wave; slow and gentle and unrelenting and Hanzo just about manages to curl his arms around the man’s biceps and hold on as he lets himself get washed away; eyes wide open and unseeing, groaning low, throaty ‘Daddy’s and then, when his cock – wet and swollen and trapped somewhere in the tangle of sheets – jerks and his balls start pulsing in a way that is almost painful, he croaks one ‘Otōsan’.

“My sweet boy,” Jesse sighs above him, one huge paw curling beneath Hanzo’s throat, thumb and forefinger framing his jaw; cradling his chin on his palm as he rocks into him; his orgasm not anywhere close. “Daddy’s so proud of you. Giving him your gorgeous body. What a good little boy you are.”

Drunk McCree and sober Hanzo getting it on; Hanzo loves McCree’s dick any which way. McCree is all on board for the worship.

“Don’t think I’ll be up to snuff for any playin’ tonight, babydoll,” Jesse murmurs. It is barely coherent, his lips move but the sounds that come out seem to lack behind the intended meaning of the words.

He stinks of cheap whiskey and wine. When Hanzo pushes him to fall onto the bed whatever patch of skin that can be seen above his wild, tangled beard becomes worryingly green before he takes deep breaths and relaxes again.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he slurs, feet weekly kicking at Hanzo as he crawls onto the bed. “Why’re you so mean to me, baby?”

“Because you’re too slow.”

“Whassat now?” McCree tries to glance down at him but the effort – or motion – seems not to sit well with him so he starts patting downwards, huge paw of a hand missing several times before it lands heavily on Hanzo’s head and holds on to the tight knot of hair he finds there.

Hanzo grunts and shakes his head once but Jesse is not being dissuaded and he doesn’t care enough to make him let go.

What he cares about is working apart the fly of McCree’s jeans and reach in so he can fish around the warm, humid confines of his boxershorts for the prize he’s been lusting after all afternoon – prowling through base in search for the man that unfortunately was attached to such a marvelous cock, only to find out he’s been out trying to get himself blackout drunk.

“Babydoll?” McCree slurs. He grunts when Hanzo’s fingers finally slip into the slit in front of his shorts and encounter the sweat-tacky forest of his pubes. “Really. Don’ think I’ll be up to any-”

“Quiet.” Hanzo leans down, head pillowed on McCree’s thick thigh. He looks peaceful as a kitten in that moment, breathing deep, trying not to show how much he enjoys McCree’s unwashed drunken state as he carefully fishes his dick out of his underwear.

If only he were as sweet as one; alas, even in his inebriated state McCree knows not to touch when he hasn’t been explicitly invited to.

Hanzo sighs through his nose when the dark, fat cock finally is in view. It is soft and warm in his hand, but still heavy enough to make him hot and horny. Seldom has he seen such a nice, girthy dick. One that he could play hours with if only its Master wasn’t so very… clingy.

He plays with the foreskin; rubs his thumb across the generous silky folds, wriggling it through the opening and carefully touching the tip to the blunt, tacky glans underneath.

He wonders if McCree went for a piss halfway through his drinking. The thought of him not properly shaking off makes his belly hurt with need. He can feel his face burn, mouth overflowing with saliva – but McCree is still watching him with bleary eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Jesse whines when Hanzo moves his fingers; lets the warm cock slide through them in practiced ease, pushing down on the loose skin to get at the fat tip. It’s rare that Hanzo is willing to do all the work and the fact that his cock is not responding – even with the sight of the handsome archer’s lips wet and ready just inches away – is killing him.

Hanzo ignores him. It’s like Jesse doesn’t exist: only the lazy girth of his goddamn dick – and anything else between his legs, come to think of it.

He watches as Hanzo leans forward, nose burying against the base of his cock, eyes fluttering close as he takes in deep, slow breaths, and fuck Hanzo has never done that before but the sight of him burying his regal nose in the unkempt tangle of Jesse’s pubes is so good so hot… and his dick is still not moving even an inch. It’s fucking lying there and taking all the little kitten licks and loving rubs of Hanzo’s cheeks, and Jesse wants to goddamn die because Hanzo was never this sweet to him.

Only to his fucking dick, it seemed. Cuddling with the goddamn thing like it’s his boyfriend, almost cooing before he starts tonguing the soft opening of his foreskin, pretty eyes slitted in satisfaction, cheeks a dull crimson.

He’s gonna jerk off on it, he suddenly thinks; the only clear thought in his muddled brain – and he knows it will happen with such a surety that he can see it in his mind’s eye. Hanzo straddling him and bracing himself on the sturdy expanse of his gut; not sparing a glance at him as he frantically rubs one out, aiming his dick to cream all over the flushed red cock he dragged out to play with.

Goddamn marking his territory like a fucking cat or something.

“You’re gonna kill me, babydoll,” he whines, digging in his booted feet and lifting thick hips in a lame parody of fucking. He can’t muster up any more coordination than that and his cock can’t even slap against Hanzo’s pretty face because it’s in a secure, deadly grip and McCree might be blackout drunk but he definitely was not the damned fool to try and take his dick away from Lord Shimada.

Shimadacest underneath

The difference between sober Hanzo and drunk Hanzo did not lie within his love of cocks and getting stuffed to the brim – it lay within his expression of how much he actually needed to get filled.

He was uncoordinated when he was drunk like he was now – a little cross-eyed, endearingly so, and not quite able to grab at their dicks on the first try – but he was so very thankful for whatever they gave him; mumbling indistinct thank yous and arigatous even when Jesse was just teasingly slapping the fat head of his dick against Hanzo’s outstretched tongue, or when Genji was simply playing at stuffing him with cock: pressing close and insistent enough to almost push in, before letting it glance off and slip up, getting the top of Hanzo’s crack and the small of his back shiny with fluid.

His face is flushed dark from alcohol and lack of air, throat bulging with the cock Jesse had finally given him – fucked slowly and lovingly past the tight restriction of Hanzo’s throat, listening to him artlessly gag on the fat dick.

It’s wet and messy, his eyes tearing up, but when Jesse carefully inches back to let him breath, he tries fucking himself forward immediately.

Whenever they let go of him, he teeters on all fours, body seemingly indecisive where he wants to crawl first; whether he wants to kiss Jesse’s balls or lick at Genji’s fingers.

When he’s drunk, Hanzo is so delightfully clumsy.

“You’re so dishonorable, brother,” Genji coos, faceplate up, scarred face looking smug as he just has to lay a hand onto his brother’s back to get him to arch for him, hips angling up, the soft pout of his hole wet from Genji’s own excitement beckoning him closer. “Can’t hold your sake…”

He doesn’t fuck as doggedly as he used to – always wondering whether it would be the last time he got to feel his brother’s warm little snatch around his dick, clenching and greedy and so very hot; by now he knows that Hanzo will come back. That he craves this; craves his little brother fucking him easily – leisurely – with one hand on his hip and the other in the small of his own back, dicking him with little airy thrusts; fucking him as negligently as a frat boy would.

And Hanzo just goes wild for it, groans sloppily around McCree’s cock, drooling liberally; the flush of his intoxication making his body red and hot.

ssaravinter:

Be my Valentine ♥

gunnslaughter:

*throws this in sideways*

The just finished live-write :3 slutty captured Hanzo in the hands of Deadlock leader McCree

Since the capture of their newest – temporary – acquisition, the hideout had changed. The usual buzz of laziness had made way for an underlying tension that seemed to thrum along the skin.

Jesse hadn’t actually seen to their captive since snatching him off of the airport – and hadn’t that been laughably easy; seemingly nobody had thought them audacious enough to actually kidnap the Shimada boss’s son in bright daylight – and he started to feel that maybe that might have been a miscalculation on his part.

His boys were very… impressionable, after all.

He walked in slow, measured steps, lazily flicking a coin through the air and snatching it again and again. The dingy hallways were practically deserted, and even peering into the usual hangouts, like the loading hangar only saw one or two passed-out drunk grunts lying behind crates or across a table.

Jesse’s bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead. Were they all…?

They actually were. The din of voices got louder the closer his unhurried steps took him towards his destination, and, rounding the corner, he could see most of his man piling around the door of their captive’s room.

“Well, now.”

Jesse’s half-loud drawl made them freeze and turn, quickly opening up a way for him to squeeze through. “What’s all the ruckus about? Don’tcha have some work to do?”

The room was spartan; only a small table with utensils for the upkeep of their visitor standing in a corner. Jesse didn’t trust him with more, to be honest; the kid – young man – was a trained assassin, after all; which was why he was chained like a dog, arms up high and wrists bound together, a gag keeping him from running his smart little mouth.

It did not explain the rest of the ropes, though, haphazardly thrown about his body, curling tight around chest and hips, binding one leg up into the air until he could barely stand on the toes of the other foot.

“What’s that now?” Jesse hummed, eyebrows up again, gaze sliding towards Milton, who was standing to the side, face a little pinkish in eagerness and a smug smile on his face. “Thought I told ya to wash and feed ‘im and not wrap him up like a present.”

Milton shrugged. He looked unapologetic, gesturing lazily with a hand that was still holding a dripping sponge. A few drops flew through the air and smacked against Shimada’s thigh, making him flinch in response.

“Well, yeah. I was going to wash him just like you asked, but this little here asshole is determined to make everything as difficult as possible. I told him. I told him – I said: ‘Now you go be a good boy and I’ll get you nice and clean and feed you sumthin’ tasty’, but every time I got close, he would kick me. So I thought I’d truss him up a lil’ more, get him secured so I could go about my business, but -” Milton shrugged again, dipping the sponge into a bucket with soapy water. There was steam curling into the air – Jesse had told his right hand man to be as courteous as possible and Milton had taken it to heart. “He was still being fuzzy and basically curled himself up in the ropes all by himself. And then…”

Milton’s face became a little darker. His eyes were wide and glassy, staring intently at their captive – and suddenly McCree became aware of a few things. The oppressive heat of his men at his back, their murmuring, low and sleazy even though he could not make out any particular words… and their captive’s predicament.

Shimada was naked, nothing unusual, he had been a little shit even when he’d been caught, slipping daggers and other small knifes from the most ludicrous compartments of his attire, but Jesse had not seen how he had reacted to his new situation: cock curving up from his body, hard and pink, the wet tip slipped half out of the foreskin. He had a pretty dick; still young and sleek looking; it didn’t have any real girth to it yet, even though the kid had to be some 20 something.

His belly was tight, curved in as if he tried to pull away from his own, traitorous dick, and as he stared, brain still trying to catch up with the situation, it jerked and bobbed, almost slapping into the tight muscles of his stomach.

“Oh,” Jesse said slowly, watching the pink flush on the captive’s body darkening, his toes curling where they were hanging in the air, and then again, a little more forcefully and drawn out, voice dripping with satisfaction: “Oooh.”

The young Shimada heir looked nothing short but furious. He could not say a word but his dark velvety eyes were filled with tears of angry frustration, staring at McCree as if he hoped he’d drop dead any second now.

“Lookin’ mighty pissed for a lad sporting an impressive hard-on,” Jesse told him gently, stepping closer, making way for his crew to file into the room. The makeshift cell was not big enough for everyone but they sure made an effort to cram inside even so while trying not to jostle their leader in the process – as jovial as McCree could be, he did have a nasty temper every once in awhile.

“Right?” Milton hung back for a moment, just stretching out one arm and touching the wet tips of his fingers to the bouncing toes of their captive. The young Shimada immediately kicked – or tried to – his dark eyebrows drawing together even more fiercely while his cock bobbed and strained, the tip practically getting even more wet beneath McCree’s amused gaze. “He looks pissed off but I tell ya, he loves the attention. Was just a cute little chub at first and when he noticed me lookin’…”

He steps closer now, hand stretching, fingertips not quite touching Shimada’s cock as it strains and flexes, the mound of his balls almost smooth enough to make McCree wonder whether he shaved or was just naturally hairless – though the thick thatch of black hair leading towards his dick made him think it had to be the former. How exciting.

He watched the kid struggle to get away from Milton’s non-existent touch just long enough to give him a chance to unbalance himself, body wriggling like a snake, trying his damndest to push himself into the opposite direction with the very tip toes he could still reach to the ground, then finally stepped closer, hand slapping onto Milton’s shoulder.

“I think I’m goin’ to take over now.”

Milton smirked, placing the sponge into his boss’ outstretched hand. “Sure thing, Jesse. Sure thing.”

He hung back, but did not leave, practically melting into the fray of the pack at Jesse’s back.

“Well now, Mr. Shimada,” Jesse begins, stepping closer, right up into the dangling man’s face. He can feel the faint bump of his cock against his belly, but does not look down – pretends like he can’t see the flinch in Shimada’s dark eyes or the way his face twists into a desperate grimace. “We’re tryin’ to be real nice to you while we wait for your daddy to come and get you out. Got a nice warm bath prepared and everythin’.”

He leans down, dipping the sponge into the still hot water of the bucket, and turns his head towards the bobbing cock, face close enough that he can smell the young man’s arousal. There’s a noise coming from higher up, a small, soft thing that Jesse couldn’t place anywhere, as he makes sure his breath hits warm and tickling the straining shaft when he speaks.

“Since you are being difficult, I think I should do the honors then, don’t you think? A leader should always be a glowing example. I can’t have my men doing things that I haven’t done, after all.”

He leans farther in, close enough to see the pitch black pubes move with his breath just before he closes his eyes and inhales deeply just at the junction of Shimada’s young, sleek cock and those smooth balls that look feather soft and tempting.

“So you’re going to be nice and still now,” he rumbles, voice deep and throaty; he opens his eyes and gazes up straight into the young heir’s flushed face, his liquid eyes looking even wetter than before – like he is going to cry in frustration while out of the corner of his eyes, Jesse can see a sticky pearl of pre-cum slowly drip from the dark tip of his dick. “I gotta show my men how to handle you, don’t I?”

And yes, Milton’s assessment might have been perfectly spot on – not that Jesse would have doubted it even one second – because the mention of his men watching has their captive struggling with renewed vigor even as his cock flexes and his balls move, pulling up tight towards his body. His chest is heaving, flushed just as much as his belly and cock, the dark rust color of his laughably small nipples only enhancing how very much he likes the thought.

They look good enough to eat; pebbled and obscene, sitting on his chest for the taking, and Jesse wonders how swollen they could get.

“So we’re going to let them see,” he mumbles, voice a silky purr as he finally gets up again, leaving the warm cloud of musk around the young man’s hips reluctantly. He steps around him, making sure not to get into radius of that devious little leg up in the air, and takes a moment to enjoy the view from this side.

The man was heavily muscled; almost squat, if it weren’t for the trim waist. The cleft of his ass was opened enough to give a sweet glimpse of the tender little muscle between, and Jesse wondered when he would get away with just kneeling down and eating him out.

Maybe not today; it was just an appetizer, but – yeah.

“You liking what yer seein’, boys?” he suddenly barks, watching the man flinch minimally before him. When he pulls the curtain of black, thin hair to the side so he can see his face, his fingers brush the hot skin of his cheek. His ears are cherry red and radiating an incredible heat when his men’s voices call back in a cacophony of praise and well-intentioned insults.

They were a good bunch, his boys.

Jesse doesn’t wait any longer. Doesn’t want to wait any longer. There is no finesse to the way he goes at it – the sponge was still warm and soft in his good hand, and there was no amount of shyness as he pushed it up into the Shimada heir’s cleft and made him squeak again, louder this time, swaying in the bonds he managed to wrap himself up in – and Jesse could see his eyes when he leaned across his shoulder, breathing warm and wet and excited right against his sensitive ear. They were clenched shut tight, tears glistening in the dark lashes.

“Open up,” he tells him in a gruff growl, and slides the sponge along the cleft first back, then forwards, forwards, forwards, until he could cup the tender skin of his taint and the swell of those delightful, naked balls while his thumb presses against the wet, trembling muscle of his anus. It feels petal soft and stupidly vulnerable. It sets Jesse’s teeth on edge. He wants to bite this perfect little heir, litter him with bite marks and bruises. Get him accustomed to the rough wilderness out here.

Instead, he just breathes in his scent and laughs a sharp bark when Shimada does open up, obedient as a puppy, eyes snapping open to stare with a wet gaze at the eager, aroused faces around him – and that little slutty ass relaxing for the big, rough thumb to slip in as easy as if it had been buttered, dipping in deep, up to the thick knuckle before Jesse could have thought of the possibility…..

“Shit,” he hisses – grunts out – eyebrows drawn together as he leans back enough to peer between them, staring at the unexpected and total capitulation of their captive. He is stretched around the thickness of his thumb, and after a few seconds Jesse can feel the fluttering contractions – like he is confused, like he is…

Shimada had become so still, eyes wide, staring ahead, cock bobbing and drooling eagerly – drips of wetness all over the floor beneath him – and he looked so stunned, so utterly floored that Jesse knew this had not been planned.

The kid had slipped up and relaxed for just a second, following the barked, rough-voiced command, and now he couldn’t take it back anymore. McCree and he were in a curious situation; nobody could see it, after all; him slowly fucking his thumb into the captive, testing out how soft and warm he was, how slutty and obviously well used, and Shimada turned his head minimally and peeked at him out of the corner of his eyes, and… he knew it too. How they had a little secret in midst of all the men watching and getting off.

Jesse grinned, sharp and wolfish. He moved, thick arm curling around Shimada’s hips, hand curling around his cock without hesitation – gripping it as if he had any right to do so, pulling back and finally allowing the pink, tender looking foreskin to roll back across the thickest part of the glans, exposing it wet and needy to the room beneath the appreciative murmur of the people around them.

“You are a dirty boy, aren’t you?” he says half loud, hand moving a little awkwardly as he tries to keep up the pretense of washing him while actually fucking into that tender, well-trained hole… and suddenly he wonders where it had been so well trained. Maintained. Taught to open up just like so and swallow whatever it was given.

He thought about this regal, stubborn young man back home in his exotic palace, getting waited on hand and foot by his guards. Lying on his back, legs in the air, held up in place by his own men and getting used to receiving cocks day in and day out…

“Yeah you are.” His voice had dropped lower than usual. It was gravelly; almost pained sounding as he rubs his untamed beard against the soft cheek of his captive. Shimada’s head slipped back, exposing his bobbing throat as he swayed before Jesse, seemingly helpless to the motion until Jesse realizes how he is sneakily fucking into his fist, and back unto the finger penetrating him.

“A little dirty slut that gets off on getting watched. Gets hard and needy just from a few ropes and needs his captors to get him off.”

He moves his thumb, presses it mean and rough against the tender head, and the Shimada heir suddenly bows his back as well as he can and howls into his gag, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and into the small patch of black beard he has growing on his chin.

He tries to twist away, but the ropes are holding well, cupping his body, digging in deep and leaving marks.

McCree has to think about his nipples, suddenly; so small and dark and ready to get abused by a suckling, greedy mouth. He swallows hard, and twists his hand around Shimada’s dick, squeezing mean enough to make him choke behind his gag.

“Yeah, you’re not used to this, are you? Bet your guards would not dream of touching you like this.”

The kid’s chest is rising and falling in heavy gulps of air; hard enough to make the tattoo twisting down his arm and slipping across his breast look almost alive.

Jesse twists his hand again and moves his thumb, wrist pumping, awkwardly fucking the Shimada heir with nobody the wiser. When he feels the thick, heavy pulse in his hand, he can’t help but sink his teeth into the blue ink on Shimada’s shoulder, riding out the way the kid’s ass is convulsing around his finger, milking and squeezing while he comes in front of the gathered crowd, the wet splashes of cum against concrete obscenely loud in the stifling air of the room.

Jesse pulls back the second the fluttering contractions stop clenching down on him. He feels tacky with sweat, cock bulging his pants, and head spinning with all the possibilities….

“Let him down. Get him to clean the floor,” he says roughly, not looking at Milton as he lets the sponge splash back into the water and rubs his wet hands against his jeans.

He shoulders his way past the rest of the crew, eyes stubbornly on the ground, shoulders set tight. He wonders whether Milton will see the swollen mess of the young Shimada heir’s ass when he lets him down enough to kneel on the floor and get to work his tongue against the cum splattered there.

Milton wasn’t stupid. He could put one and one together. The knowledge was thrilling. Let him know what a slut the kid was. Let the knowledge spread throughout the base. Nobody would touch him without the boss’ permission, but…

Oh, this would be fun.