:3c a gift to @robotfvckers … a sequel to their hot af fic you can find here


Gabriel can feel the sweat sliding down his throat. It itches but he is too disciplined to reach up and wipe at it – he merely looks on, impassive, hands folded behind his back, feet planted a precise shoulder width apart. He is quiet and unobtrusive, guarding the door and watching his boss fuck the little dancing monk.

It would be hypnotic; the clench and release of his ass between the smooth, brown thighs as he fucks him – if not for the soft, breathy moans accompanying his young Master’s ministrations, ensuring that Gabriel could not possibly zone out; couldn’t do anything but listen with rapt attention, cock pulsing in his trousers, sweat slowly beading on his forehead and sliding down his temples.

The monk is bound with silk; Gabriel had been very careful as he pulled him out of the fray of the other dancers – he should not be hurt by the bite of rough rope.

As is, he wonders if they would have needed the restrictions in the first place. He stares at the long, thin legs of the dancer – ungainly sprawled to both sides of his young Master’s hips, toes curling and smooth thighs clenching with every inward thrust, smooth and deep and coaxing out those delightful little noises.

He watches, transfixed, as the monk starts reciprocating; lifting his hips in shivery small jumps, hiccuping out needy groans behind the silky gag Gabriel had forced between his white little teeth.

Who would have thought what a little bombshell the young monk would be? Needing to get held down as his young Master comes, hands grasping a little desperately at the monk’s slim hips until he can hold him down and make him stay still as Genji rut in deep, humping, emptying himself with a low guttural groan; needing what undoubtedly was the warm, silky-wet clutch of the monk’s insides to steadily hug his cock as he filled him – Gabriel could see the pulse of his cock even from his position; the almost laborious swell and contraction of it.

His own cock is sensitive and swollen, tenting his pants obscenely – still, his face is impassive as his Master rolls from his little conquest and flops down next to him, idly glancing over to his bodyguard.

Gabriel’s eyes flick towards him for a second, shielded by the dark of his sunglasses, and then back to the monk who is lying there, breathing heavily, his slim chest with dark, small nipples rising and falling in big gulps as he is sprawled and sweaty, long slim cock dark with blood and painfully hard looking.

As Gabriel watches, a dribble of cum oozes from between his cheeks, sliding along the inner curve of his ass – and it mesmerizes him enough that his young Master has to repeat his question, mouth stretched into a broad satisfied grin.

“…You want a piece of that?”

.o.

Gabriel does.

He does want a piece of that.

His boss is a nice enough guy; for the spoiled son of a yakuza crime lord – but he’s never asked Gabriel if he wants a taste of the little sluts he pulls into his bed. Never asked if he wants to test drive one of them after he’s fucked them and left them pretty much bloated with cum.

Not that Gabriel has ever particularly wanted to get his dick into one of them. They were all pretty enough; gorgeous and exotic and just about interesting enough to pull his boss’s attention for a night.

This one, however…

He is loosening his tie marginally as he walks closer, eyes intent, peering over the rim of his glasses and watching as Genji pulls on the monk’s jutting hip, his facial expression impishly gleeful as he rolls him onto his front.

The monk grunts as his cock gets squished between his shivery belly and the mattress but he looks to be too uncoordinated to do anything about it.

What he does is flop uselessly: his long slim legs feebly kicking out, his plump ass – seemingly the only thing on his body that had any fat to speak of – jiggling for his captors’ viewing pleasure.

Genji cackles and grabs the soft cheeks roughly; kneads them first, then pulls them open, and Gabriel pulls in a sharp breath, hands dropping to his pants, eyes intent on the swollen, raw looking gape of the monk’s hole. It is messy; cum dribbling out even as his boss tries to push it back with rough fingers, making the monk whine and shudder under their watchful, heated gazes.

Gabriel doesn’t get naked. It is enough to have his cock out and his throat no longer restricted by the sharp knot of the tie. He is, if he is honest, a little nervous that his boss might think better of it. That the glazed-over stare he has on the monk’s little fucked out cunt means he is rearing up for a second round and will snatch it away right in front of Gabriel’s nose.

So he is a bit over eager as he grabs the dancer’s thin ankles and drags him close with a rough tug. They feel dainty in his large hands. It gets his blood boiling.

The monk groans at the treatment, his high cheekbones dark with a flush, eyes peeking back at both of them over his shoulder.

He doesn’t look afraid.

Gabriel wonders if that would have changed if he had been able to see his dick; obscenely swollen with blood. Thick and dark and looking like a weapon.

As is, he doesn’t have a clue what he’s in for.

His ass is as supple and squishy as it looks. It dimples eagerly beneath his grasping hands and feels like silk.

Gabriel can’t get enough of the brown of his skin; the sight of him naked and vulnerable before them when they both couldn’t have been assed to fully undress.

His hole is a goddamn mess; sticky and used-up and almost uncomfortably warm after getting reamed by his boss – but that makes the experience only better.

He is loose enough not to need any preparation; loose enough that he tilts his head forward and rests his forehead against the bedding when Gabriel nudges the tip inside.

He sighs and wriggles. He seems to think that is all; that he’ll get filled comfortably once more; will get fucked with the same rabbit thrusts that have warmed his belly up earlier.

Gabriel still has one hand around his ankle, making him bend his leg to the side, giving himself enough room to navigate. He is quiet, not speaking a word as he starts to slowly fuck inside. Let the little dancer realize his error on his own.

His boss is lounging to the side, fingers around his half-hard cock, still sticky from the dancer’s greedy insides, and they both can see the exact moment when he realizes-

His head shoots up.

He squirms.

He doesn’t look as comfortable anymore as Gabriel inches his way inside, the bulk of his cock starting to stretch him more and more. He looks uncomfortable, sweat springing up on his forehead as he glances back again, eyes wide, little sounds of near-distress spilling from his throat.

With his arms bound and one of his ankles still held firmly, there is little he can do about this. He capitulates laughably easy; the quivering grip of his insides slackens. He feels feverishly hot and swollen around Gabriel’s cock, probably from the reaming he’s had already, but even so, he is tight and welcoming around the fatter dick.

It squelches when he fucks in slow, even thrusts, cum frothing around his dick and sticking tacky in his pubes – and he never would have thought he would be into fucking the sloppy cunt of one of his boss’ whores, while his boss is watching him, nonetheless… but he kind of likes it.

Likes it a lot.

The dancer is responsive and sensitive, whining into his gag as he gets fucked slow and intimate, his ass having to stretch around a new girth and taking to it admirably. Gabriel has half a mind to push one hand beneath him and grab at his cock; give him a nice tight tunnel to fuck his slim pretty dick into, but something halts him before he can do so.

He listens to the low hiccups; the nasty squelch of his boss’ cum around his dick, and thinks that he doesn’t want to destroy the moment so soon. The dancer sounds mesmerizing in his desperation, ass clenching hot around him, quivering, milking; unconsciously perfect to take dick – and he doesn’t want him to stop too soon; have him think he can stop his desperate, clumsy little efforts and just melt into the bedding in a post-coital stupor.

His boss seems to be on the same page; because when Gabriel glances over, nostrils flaring, mouth pressed into a tight line as he fucks, Genji is grinning broad and mean, cock on its best way to be ready for another round…

And he wonders how long they can keep this up; fuck the little slut and warm his belly up with load after load, rubbing against the sensitive, overeager swell of his prostate and refusing to lend him a hand and let him come like he so obviously needs.

He wonders if he, too, will be allowed a second round; because he wants to fuck him on his back; hold his legs up and apart so his long, graceful dancer feet bounce in the air as he’s getting fucked like a cheap one-dollar-whore. He wants to be able to get at those meager little tits and bite at his tiny nipples until he is crying.

He wants to ruin the little dancer with the perfect cunt.

Reapyatta 😀 soft dom!Zenyatta with needy sub!Reaper. Here you go, ya’ll ❤


Zenyatta slides fingers through Gabriel’s curls, careful not to let the interlocking joints catch on the stubbornly clinging hair. He fluffs them up, then smooths them down, carefully combing them until they lie the way he wants them to.

Only when he is satisfied does he put his fingers beneath Gabriel’s chin, thumb lying heavy in the small groove beneath his bottom lip, dragging in a small caress over the graying hair of his beard.

“Up,” he murmurs, voice well modulated – built to please. Gabriel follows the gentle push a little too eagerly – the next second Zenyatta’s fingers pinch his chin more firmly and drag him down again. The omnic watches him quietly, not moving while Reaper’s dark eyes jerk across his faceplate, watching for some reaction even though he knows there can’t be one, and finally coming to a halt on the grid pattern on Zenyatta’s forehead – watching the slow dimming and brightening of the light there with an almost myopic gaze.

After a while, when the omnic has decided the height is a good one, Zenyatta’s other hand curls around one of his orbs, lying dormant and heavy in a circle around him.

He places it carefully atop Gabriel’s head, fingers letting loose of it slowly, making sure it would not roll from its nest of curls.

“Still, now,” he says softly, barely an admonishment, and for a moment it seems like Reaper even stops breathing, head up nice and high, carefully balancing Zenyatta’s intricately carved orb. Zenyatta can see the human’s ribs moving – little, soft pants expanding the broad chest as he tries to keep still enough not to shift the heavy trinket.

“Calm yourself. You will make it tumble down if you don’t center yourself.” Zenyatta’s thumb moves, pushing against Reaper’s scarred mouth until he opens it slightly, tongue cheekily flicking out to lick –

Zenyatta’s hand rushes out to catch the orb before it can roll from Gabriel’s head completely. The omnic’s voice box manufactures a soft, reprimanding click of a tongue he doesn’t possess, then pushes his thumb into Gabriel’s mouth to press down heavy and unmoving against his soft, warm tongue while simultaneously rearranging the orb once more.

“If you want to come,” he tells him patiently, as he fucks his thumb slowly between the submissive’s lips, the pad rubbing slow, smooth circles into Gabriel’s tongue to let him taste the metal, “then you need to do as you are told and not lose the orbs. Do you understand?”

He has recentered the heavy ball, arm slowly drawing away. Gabriel watches him with his dark eyes, a look of adoration on his slowly slackening face. He almost doesn’t dare to swallow, tongue lying placid for the omnic to play with.

Zenyatta hums and carefully pulls his hand away.

“Very well. The next one.”

He shifts, moving easily around the submissive. He looks like a show dog – on all fours, head up high and still, the impressive width of his chest sloping quickly into the plane of his hard belly. Time has forgotten this particular man – he still looks as formidable as he has in those old pictures Zenyatta has observed littered around the Gibraltar base.

“You are magnificent,” he tells him, voice an intimate murmur even though they were alone. He can see the way Gabriel’s ribs extend in a deep, careful inhale, but it is the only concession the submissive makes to how much the praise affects him.

That – and that lovely cock of his; dark and thick between his strong thighs, filling out a little more as Zenyatta watches, the wide head peeking out of the soft folds of his foreskin. Already, the omnic’s sensors can make out the glistening of pre-cum wetting all that velvety skin. Humans were so delightfully… messy. Their bodies so generous in showing their appreciation.

“Good boy.” He lets warm, smooth metal fingertips rub against the first knob of Gabriel’s spine, then slides them with gentle pressure along the dip of his spine. The man shudders, a strange choked-off noise coming from him – and for just a moment it seems like he might jerk his head and unseat the orb in its nest of curls, but he calms down just in time to relax again.

He deters a second when he’s at the submissive’s tailbone, fingers sliding into the cleft of his ass and tickling the warm, silky hole he finds there. Gabriel groans, then; voice deep and smoky, eyes probably unfocused as he stares ahead of himself and tries to remain calm, even when Zenyatta’s warm, smooth fingers start rubbing with more intent, the blunt tip of one beginning to wriggle its way inside.

“M-Master,” he says, indistinct, barely dares to move his jaw. Zenyatta hums, tranquil. Serene. He lets Gabriel’s muscles move for him: he doesn’t resist their suckling, needy pull, letting them drag his finger deeper in until the sweet muscle is mouthing at the first bulkier joint of his finger.

“I know,” Zenyatta answers low, synthetic voice full with feeling. “You need it, pretty boy. I know. Your body talks so loud for you.”

Reaper whines, throat vibrating with the sound, face crumbling as Zenyatta watches. He is biting his bottom lip, eyes starting to crunch shut. He’s nearly weeping just from the overwhelming need of getting filled.

“I won’t leave you empty,” the omnic promises, free hand rubbing along the sickly ashbrown of his back. “I will fill you up until you can’t take more. And then a little bit more still.”

Gabriel whines again, a little higher, fingers curling against the floor into unsteady fists. Zenyatta pushes in deeper, curls his finger – just gives him a little taste of pleasure to keep him at bay before out completely.

He ignores the soft sigh of disappointment, critically checks over the orb resting on Gabriel’s head, then takes another one and places it carefully high between the submissive’s shoulder blades.

Gabriel has less problems balancing this one, but it still ads more pressure on him: a little less freedom of movement, no careful rolling of the shoulders anymore, no nervous shifting.

“You are perfect. Just one more.”

Zenyatta grips His shoulder, then his bicep, squeezing and caressing in lieu of not being able to properly kiss – even his omnic kisses, small pulses of weak electricity, don’t seem appropriate now; not when Gabriel was struggling as it is, strangely keyed up from some discord within his soul.

He was so burdened, his poor boy. So many demons weighing him down that he wouldn’t even be able to tell what exactly was filling him with anxiety.

Zenyatta’s hand slides down, smooths across the plush cushion of his pec, mildly warns “Keep your head high”, then proceeds to tweak one of the small, sensitive nipples. Gabriel groans long and deep. His cock fills out a little more still, the veins at the sides starting to bulge as it bobs softly all on its own. Always so eager, sweetly asking for attention.

“Just one more. Good boy.”

Zenyatta squeezes the small nub once more between his fingers, the pressure carefully calculated by his systems, then pulls his hand away to grab the last orb.

“And up. Nice and slow… that’s it.” His voice is low, intimate, watching as Gabriel carefully, slowly arches his back, struggling to keep his head still and his shoulders even. There was sweat starting to break out along his hairline. His toes curled in and relaxed again, restless, nervous. He wanted to be good – didn’t want to lose any of the orbs already placed on him.

His hips are forming a sweet cup, ass angling towards the ceiling. He is presenting himself like a well trained pet, legs carefully spreading on instinct: he was showing off what he had to the room; offering his Master everything from the soft, heavy mound of his testicles to the tender gape of his hole.

“What a good boy you are tonight. You really want it badly, don’t you? A nice cock spreading you open? Get your belly warmed up? I know how horribly cold you always feel… I think I have just the thing for you, if you can stay still for me tonight. Just five minutes, I think. They will suffice, wouldn’t you say? Five minutes to show what a good, obedient boy you are, and then I’ll give you your treat.”

He rubs the back of Gabriel’s thigh, slides up and between them and cups the warm swell of his testicles. His cock is just about visible, silky head shoved out farther now, a pearl of liquid beading for a second before starting to drip down in a long, sticky string.

“Do you want to know what treat I have planned for you?”

He lets him feel the ball as he waits for an answer; slowly rolls it up and down the small of his back just to let him feel the electrical warmth of it radiating as omnic energy from deep within the intricately carved mechanism.

Zenyatta’s voice is still gentle; smooth and deep, well modulated as he promises Gabriel what was the world for this particular submissive: A nice, deep dicking, warm long cocks sliding in, making him submit, getting him to drool into the floor as he got mounted and fucked until his toes were tingling and his eyes burning.

“I will take you out into town,” Zenyatta tells him, speaking gentle like consoling a child. Gabriel’s eyes are heavy lidded and rolled to the side, trying to look at as much of his Dominant as possible without turning his head, mouth slowly falling open as he pushes carefully into the warm touch of the orb, heavy cock swaying back and forth between his thighs with the movement.

“I will take you into town,” the omnic repeats like a secret, “and lead you into a vehicle there. A nice, large car with enough room in the back for you to invite a lot of friends. All of them crawling in to the sight of you offering yourself up just as sweetly as you are now. Let them see how ready you are; how much you want it.

Some may want to test out your pretty mouth beforehand, but you will not mind. You’ll open for them just as sweetly as you always open for me. That clever little tongue doing just as they need; finding out just how you can be of service to them until they want to slip behind you; sample what else you have on offer. Maybe grab your lovely cock and give you a few strokes, though…”

He pauses here, deliberate, watches how Gabriel’s eyes have all but closed. He is drooling like an eager dog and Zenyatta supposed that in this moment, he was little more than an animal; a needy animal waiting for its Master’s praise.

“A little farther up,” he murmurs, tapping the orb against the small of Gabriel’s back as emphasize. The submissive takes a few seconds until he understands, then tilts a little further up still. For a second the orb on the crown of his head seems to wobble but then it settles again.

Zenyatta hums, then starts to carefully balances the last orb on Reaper’s tail bone, leaning it against the cleft of his ass to give it a place to rest. As he works, he takes up his earlier monologue, voice pitched a little deeper, aimed to go straight under the skin.

“I don’t think they will care much for your pleasure, though. They will be wondering when they see me in the corner. They will wonder what kind of little slut lets himself get whored out by an omnic.” Gabriel whines at the crude words spoken in the gentle words of his Master, and Zenyatta can see how the thin string of pre-cum thickens with the submissive’s mindless excitement.

“They’ll wonder how greedy for cock you’ll have to be to sink so low. Be the slave to a machine just to get a good, regular filling. Get your belly warmed up from the inside by their creamy loads until it all frothes around their cocks as they ream you nice and good.

They will wonder. And I don’t think they’ll wonder quietly, do you? I think they will be asking you. I think they’ll tell you in perfectly clear words what they think of you while they utilize your lovely body.

Maybe they will find the markers I will have placed carefully to the side; maybe they’ll have some creative little words and pictures to decorate you with.

Ahhh… I think… yes…”

He carefully pulls his hand away, watching the orb sit calm and centered where he placed it. Gabriel is stock still, eyes no longer closed. They are open wide, staring without focus ahead as he breathes slow, almost serene; a peculiar kind of peace having settled over him as he keeps nice and still, balancing his Master’s orbs along his body, letting the electric, pulsing warmth and their heaviness sink into him and center him as the gentle voice washes over and through him.

His cock is dark and needy, flexing between his strong thighs. Nobody has touched it, but the wetness is smeared all around the flared head. A pinpoint of painful need right there between his submissive’s lovely legs.

“You would love this, wouldn’t you?” Zenyatta asks kindly, one blunt finger sliding up and down the swollen shaft. Gabriel’s eyes grow heavy lidded again.

“Yes.”

“And you shall have it,” Zenyatta promises, ergonomically shaped hand gently curling around his submissive’s cock, holding it and squeezing it gently as if milking more pre-cum from it. “After you have completed your task.”

He carefully watches the orbs, makes sure they sit still and centered before he announces: “The five minutes begin now.”