scion Hanzo – Cyberrat Writes

“You are awfully cocky for a man trussed naked to a chair, surrounded by guns.”

Hanzo watches McCree with a clinical kind of interest. The man does not look too concerned, even with his big thighs spread and his junk put on display. Maybe it is because he doesn’t have to be ashamed of what he’s showing – or maybe it is because he hasn’t cared about anything for a long while.

Hanzo surmises it is both, though it itches him to make him care.

McCree is slumped a bit, throwing him an infuriating, lazy grin until one of Hanzo’s men knocks his gun roughly against his temple and barks at him to show some respect.

He does pull himself up into more of a sitting position, but it looks like he has to force himself every centimeter of the way.

“What can I say,” he murmurs. “I’m just that easy going I guess. Good show dog, one might say. Don’t bite too awfully fast. Y’ can play with me a while before I get antsy.”

He grins at Hanzo, and Hanzo almost flushes at the insolence. Instead he clicks with his tongue and comes closer – watches how McCree’s dark eyes flick over him. Greedy. Hungry.

Hanzo smirks and plays with his cuffs as if they were not perfectly immaculate.

“Funny you would say that,” he purrs back, now. “I fully do intent to play.”

He lifts his leg then, places his foot on the edge between McCree’s massive thighs. They jump a bit. He can see how the up-and-down of his hairy chest picks up just a tad. He’s getting nervous even though his face remains the same, grin in place.

Eyes flicking from the expensive leather shoe up to Hanzo’s face. He tries to figure out what will happen, but Hanzo doesn’t give him enough time before he shifts minimally – and then he has the large sac squeezed between the sole of his shoe and the hard chair.

McCree hasn’t been expecting it. He pulls in a sharp breath before he can school himself into indifference. Hanzo sees his pupils dilate sharp, a little muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth when Hanzo puts more pressure on his balls.

Oh, how quickly the smarmy grin can be wiped off of McCree’s face – and all it takes is a mean shoe against his tender sac.

“I knew we would come to an agreement, Mr. Shimada,” Antonio murmurs, fisting Hanzo’s shirt and dragging it a bit higher so he can see the man’s ass and sweaty back better.

Shimada is panting quickly, tongue almost lolling at this point. He’s not used to taking cock – especially not one as fat as Antonio’s – and it shows in how nervously his insides squeeze around him, trying to force him back out without avail.

The rim of Shimada’s hole is a brick red from the sharp, punishing thrusts, and when Antonio drags back out again, he can see how swollen and puffy it has become.

“It is always a pleasure to do business with you and your family… You are so very… accommodating.” He jerks forward once more, watching as Shimada arches his back and gurgles faintly, his gloved fingers scrabbling at the slick wood of his desk before finding purchase at the opposite edge.

He’s not been so understanding just half an hour ago, but Antonio has always known that a dick in your belly could work wonders – even for someone as uptight as Hanzo Fucking Shimada.

He is distracted for a second by a light in his peripheral, a small frown replacing his self-indulgent grin when he sees the security footage of a group of four clumsily infiltrating his home, but Shimada clenches down on him again and he turns back towards him. His security would take care of the mishap.

“You are so quiet, Mr. Shimada… I could almost think you aren’t enjoying our little discussion.”

He reaches beneath him, then, big hand easily finding his very wet and very hard dick, and he barks a laugh as he squeezes it just this side of rough – just enough to make Shimada jump like a rabbit with its hind legs caught. He struggles weakly and without any real fire in him.

“This… this is telling a different story, though…”

Shimada is sweating profusely, full-body shudders wrecking him whenever Antonio pushes in and the blunt head of his cock presses into the spongy flesh of his inner walls – and, presumably, the ripe little cluster of his prostate.

Antonio guffaws when Shimada doesn’t answer, his big hand adorned with wide, expensive rings coming down on his ass in a meaty slap that has Shimada jump once more, his insides squeezing down almost painfully, muscles twitching around his flexing, pulsing cock.

It is then that the door to his office flies open and the nuisance from earlier spills inside, weapons drawn and faces set into tight scowls – until they register what is going on and their steps visibly falter.

Antonio laughs again, unconcerned – and a little annoyed at his incompetent security.

“Guests!”

He slaps Shimada again, watching how his ass jiggles and the print of his hand slowly and viciously becomes visible.

“This is a private affair, however… so I have to insist you wait in line – outside.”

Shimada groans. Antonio can’t see his face, but he can see the curve of his ears, brick red and practically glowing. He squirms, but a shift of his hips quickly has him back on track while the four intruders are visibly confused – one of them flushing faintly and chewing viciously at the end of a cigar.

He can even recognize one of them – Commander Gabriel Reyes, looking more frustrated and angry by the second as he takes a couple steps forward, lifting one of his heavy shotguns.

“Get your dick out of him. We have to talk, Antonio.”

Antonio grins wide.

“I can see there are no manners being taught in Blackwatch.”

He thinks he could come like this: fucking Hanzo Fucking Shimada and laughing in Commander Reyes’ face – but the good Commander has other ideas.

Hanzo slowly rounds his toy, watching how the sweat drips from the tip of his nose, his sensual wide mouth hanging open.

Hanzo enjoys playing with him in a way he hasn’t enjoyed any of his toys in a long while. The man is sturdy and a good sport about it; he can take what Hanzo gives him and doesn’t whine about it.

His broad back is littered with welts but nothing is bleeding. Sensitive but not excruciating. Just how Hanzo likes it.

He lets the arm length lash trail across the wide shoulders and watches the man shiver, then lean up a bit and into the touch. He carefully stretches his muscles, hands flexing and curling to get the blood circulation to pick up again in the wide steel manacles.

“You are good,” Hanzo murmurs. He steps around him again, nudging the handle of the whip beneath his chin until he lifts his head and lets it fall back, baring his throat and hairy chest to Hanzo’s gaze.

He grins, but it is exhausted. They’ve been at it for a while. Long enough that the sass is almost gone out of him.

For a second it looks like he is going to answer, but then he just shakes his head and Hanzo lets the lash of the whip tickle against his furry pecs, then strolls casually around him once more.

Whipping the American is almost cathartic. Every lash is met with a satisfying, thick sound and accentuated by his rough grunts. Every hit leaves a new stripe behind that his toy takes so very well.

“Will you scream for me tonight?” he mumbles, giving him another lash and listening to the low groan that accompanies it. He wanders around him again, while the American pants, tongue lolling like one of his dogs.

“N..” he starts, but has to swallow, wet his throat before he can get something out. “Never.”

Hanzo stares at him in contemplation, taking in the large, obvious bulge in his pants that he doesn’t make a move to hide – to the contrary, when he notices Hanzo staring, he opens his thighs. Shows himself off and grins at him cocksure.

Hanzo clicks with his tongue in disgust and rounds him once more to resume.

He is patient. He will get what he want – the man’s cries as much as his cock.

Akande wonders if this is what Shimada considers light fun. He stands off to the side, watching as Shimada lays into the man he’s been interrogating for some time – at least he thinks he has been interrogating him. Everything not directed at him has been strictly Japanese, and by this time he is suitably sure that Shimada would be doing this if he had a reason or not.

There is something mesmerizing about the Shimada heir like this: his knee is placed on the bound man’s thigh, sure to dig into the large muscle there, one gloved hand used to brace himself against his shoulder while the other, adorned with an exquisite looking knuckle ring is slamming against his victim’s cheek again and again.

His hair has somewhat slipped out of the carefully slicked-back look, and there is a wide, sharp grin on his face. He looks deranged but beautiful even more so with splatters of blood against his face.

Akande would have liked to have the surprisingly amusing evening finish over the delicious meal Shimada had offered him, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Different cultures do have different customs, after all.

Suddenly, Shimada straightens up. Akande is not sure what the sign has been – whether he’s gotten the information he likes or whether he’s simply gotten bored – but all of a sudden he pulls out a sleek, black pistol and shoots the man right between the eyes.

Akande shifts his weight and watches Shimada whirl on him. He almost reaches for his own weapon when Shimada lets his own gun fall carelessly to the ground and prowls towards him.

He falls to his knees in front of him, hands greedily grabbing at his belt and jerking it open. Akande watches, eyebrows drawn, arms slowly, hesitantly unfolding. He glances towards the two big dogs flanking the door, but they are sitting like statues, unconcerned with anything that’s happening, even when he puts his hand on their master’s head.

He is reasonably sure they are used to this very picture.

Staring down at Shimada stuffing his throat with his cock, he is a bit concerned with those sharp teeth that are decidedly more red than white at the moment.

Shimada is wild for cock, gagging on Akande when he tries to fuck his throat on his not-yet-hard dick, and Akande wants to slow him down, but he is reasonably sure the effort will not be met favorably.

He sighs and closes his eyes, listening to the wet sounds of Shimada gurgling on his dick, feeling the silky, hot clutch of his throat.

Seems like he’ll just have to stay put and let Shimada unload the energy that has ramped up so sharply during his ‘entertainment’.