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The Taming of the Shrew 2b/?
Date: 2012-06-07 08:06 am (UTC)“I...” Butch tried to think of a snarky remark, but without warning, Shrapnel buried his fist into Butch’s abdomen and he doubled over with a groan.
“You little fuckwit.” Shrapnel still had the smoke clamped in the corner of his mouth, his facial expression bordering on rather bored. It was only his voice that was flat with fury. Before Butch could retaliate Shrapnel had gotten a good grip on his hair and jerked. Brought off balance Butch lost his footing and slammed into the ground. For a few seconds, he saw stars.
As Butch was just about to sit up again and frantically tried to think of something reconciliatory to say someone else stepped behind him. Flak got a good grip of his hair as well now and dragged him onto his feet again. Stumbling and bent in an awkward angle due to Flak’s grip, Butch fought for his balance. “Hey now...”
“Shut the fuck up, you disgusting little runt.” Shrapnel undid the buckle of Butch’s belt while Flak, without losing either his grip or the smoke between his lips, managed to get Butch’s jacket off his shoulders. He didn’t lose any time in fineries when it came to his shirt, though. With one hand he just tore the thing apart. The shirt was practically new; neither worn nor threadbare, and the implication of this, what it told him about the strength of Flak’s hands and arms, made Butch suddenly slightly afraid. “Jesus, will you...”
“I told you to shut up”, Shrapnel hissed and planted his fist into Butch’s face.
Butch felt his lip split and fought back for a second, but Flak let go of his hair and twisted his left arm onto his back. With one swift move, the former slaver slipped his left arm under Butch’s and closed his fingers around Butch’s right shoulders. And Butch had to discover to his dismay that there was no escaping that grip. There were obviously a few things you learned as a slaver.
Having succeeded with his belt Shrapnel unceremoniously tore down Butch’s pants, and Flak finally let go of his arm, only to give him a rough push. Due to the fact his pants pooled around his ankles, Butch lost his balance again and landed on his hands and knees, but this was quite obviously just where the two wanted him.
Butch fought for breath a couple of seconds, his hair hanging messed up and tousled into his face and blood dripping down his chin, and had just time to look up when Shrapnel knelt down in front of him, fly undone, before the former raider shoved a dick the size of a police baton, by the feel of it, into Butch’s open mouth in mid-gasp.
Shrapnel buried his hand into Butch’s hair again. Fuck, those guys really seemed to have an issue with that. “Good thing you left the snot outta your hair, kid”, Shrapnel snarled, breathing heavily. “Some people like a good grip, you know. That’s why I didn’t want you to cut my hair any shorter.” He emitted a dirty chuckle and looked up at Flak who had just undone his pants and now knelt between Butch’s legs.
Their eyes met over Butch’s half-naked back where the tattered remains of his shirt still hung down left and right and when Butch dared to shoot a glance at Shrapnel’s face he realised the former raider was looking at his partner under lowered eyelids. Behind him, he could feel Flak close both hands around his buttocks in a surprisingly gentle move.
The Taming of the Shrew 2c/3
Date: 2012-06-07 08:08 am (UTC)Shrapnel chuckled raggedly. “You said that to me first time you fucked me.”
Now Flak chuckled as well. “That’s gotta be more than a decade ago and you still remember what I said?”
Not daring to make a move Butch was forced to remain as he was, breathing deeply through his nose around the sizeable dick in his mouth. He could hear the rustle of clothes behind him and finally, Shrapnel released his hair, only to undo the buttons of his vest, though. He shed it and got rid of his shirt as well, not taking his eyes off Flak, before digging his hand into Butch’s hair again.
“Come one, kid”, he rasped. “Do your job.”
So Butch curled his tongue around Shrapnel’s dick and began to suck, feeling Flak behind him run a finger over the crack of his ass. Butch would have liked to tell him he had a bottle of lube in his jacket, but there was no getting Shrapnel’s dick out of his mouth. A spittle-slicked finger dug into his asshole.
“I’d relax if I was you, kid”, Shrapnel whispered raggedly. “I keep calling my buddy’s dick ‘The Fat Man’, you know. He can make you explode.” His expression and his voice turned a little dreamy as he looked down, and for a split-second, Butch was suddenly afraid of him. His lip was still bleeding and when he squinted down his nose he could see that the former raider’s dick was already smeared in blood, and when he noticed the look in Shrapnel’s eyes he could suddenly see him, the raider, the crazed bloodlust fuelled by drugs and madness, and was sure that he wouldn’t get out of here alive.
Butch closed his eyes again, intent on getting these guys off as soon as possible to get out of here again, but even as he tried to relax, Flak’s dick was almost more than his practically dry asshole could handle. He would’ve screamed if he hadn’t had his mouth full. As it was, it was only a hoarse, suffocated moan that escaped him and with a crack, Flak’s hand connected with his backside. “Shut the fuck up, kid, and do your job.”
Both men began to move then, and Butch closed his eyes, focussing only on breathing. His ass hurt like fire, his buttocks stung, his split lip was throbbing with pain and he was constantly on the verge of suffocating when the men inside him moved, harder, faster, and more erratic. Both were breathing hard and fast, and as Shrapnel now buried both hands into Butch’s hair Flak dug his fingers into Butch’s buttocks. It was all Butch could do to suppress the urge to retch and thrust up his ass.
It seemed like a small eternity before Flak finally picked up speed again and with a few last, deep thrusts that felt as if he meant to split Butch along the spine, spent himself into Butch’s ass with a hoarse bellow.
Moments later, Shrapnel came, too, filling Butch’s mouth with a load of hot and salty liquid that he was unable to handle in full.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, Flak was the first to withdraw, but at least he was cautious about it on the way out. Butch sagged, and when Shrapnel now finally pulled his dick out, Butch couldn’t suppress a single retch, a disgusting mixture of snot, blood and spunk dripping down his chin.