Patreon Compilation – Fic #37 – Jack/Jesse/Gabriel – ponyplay; fucking machine; orgasm denial – Paying It Back (Patreon)

Continuation of B18F1 (AO3 Link)

Jesse looks like he wants to show a lot more bravado than he is, but he is still young when it comes down to it. Young and not a trained soldier. He tries to be stoic about the whole situation, but they can both tell without needing to confirm with each other that the treatment is definitely getting to the young man.

The erstwhile second leader of the Deadlock gang.

He is suspended in the middle of the room, a harness curled around his upper body that keeps him from moving his arms, and another harness around his hips that keep the slick dildo fucked into his cherry red hole.

They walk around him in slow, measured thumps of their boots. It hadn’t fazed him too much at first, but after two days of getting played with by them, he is finally starting to react appropriately.

There’s a shudder running along his spine whenever one is behind him. The only part of him touching the floor are the balls of his feet. They like the way he starts to struggle when he’s getting desperate; tiring himself out with trying to get away but only managing to make himself become a little bit more panicked when he can only swing impotently in his bindings.

“I… I thought Overwatch was to be the good guys?” he slurs. He tries to sound diplomatic, making himself not drawl and curb the endings of his words, but he still sounds like the alley mutt that he is.

It’s not the first time he said that, but they keep not answering him. They’re trained in getting the information they want by any means, and they have quickly found that silence is one of the things this particular prisoner can stand the least. 

Jack steps close behind him, lifts a hand and taps strong and slow against the base of the plug they have fucked into McCree the very first night of his imprisonment. Jesse groans as the deep seated vibrations make the simple plastic cock nudge against his trembling, squeezing insides.

It’s become his best friend in the time he’s been with them; it only leaves him when he’s allowed to use the bathroom and to clean out his guts with warm, soapy water. His hole has become a butter soft gape.

Jack taps against the base again once and final, then leaves his fingers on it without McCree having any way of knowing. He looks up at Gabriel with one eyebrow quirked.

Gabriel just quietly looks at him, then steps in front of McCree and gently slaps him to get him to lift his head and stop drooling on the floor because he’s a horny little freak whose cock is looking like it is going to burst a vessel any second.

When McCree looks up and meets his gaze, he surprisingly enough has the decency to look a bit ashamed. The bindings they have him in croak gently when he tries to squirm but only manages to softly swing between them.

“Turns out, Overwatch does have kinky bastards to offer,” Gabriel says at long last. He’s not sure McCree will even remember any of the words he’s thrown at him during his captivity in Deadlock, but from the way his face flushes an immediate, hot red, he is pretty sure that he did manage to hit a nerve.

“C’mon. We’ve had fun, didn’t we? It was all just… a little…”

“Joke?” Gabriel offers gently. He reaches out one hand, ignoring how McCree tries to turn his head away, and cards his fingers through his unkempt hair. He thought it would be filthy, but it is as clean as the situation allows, he supposes.

McCree stills when nothing worse happens, and when he starts squinting at Gabriel suspiciously, he closes his fist tightly. From behind, Jack presses against the base of the dildo, and McCree first pulls a grimace, then lets his mouth drop open on a soft gasp, his hairy thighs shaking.

“Then we’re about to have a real fun night, McCree. Jackie here and I are going to tell you a lot of jokes.”

.o.

It’s not been bad at the Gorge. It should have been, probably, being bound in the baking afternoon sun and forced to fuck himself on the little contraption in front of everybody’s gloating face, but it hadn’t really been bad. Gabriel is a kinky bastard, and they would have needed to offer a lot more abuse to make have him crumble for them.

McCree, on the other hand, seems to be a lot softer than what the facade he put up back then; sitting on a weapons crates, stroking his dick and munching on an apple. Throwing smartass remarks at Gabriel’s head as he tried to drag himself away from the firm rubber bands holding him in his predicament.

He does not like having to taste his own medicine. Doesn’t like it at all, if his howling and sniffling and begging is anything to go by.

His thick, hairy thighs are shaking something fierce as Gabriel keeps nudging his shoulders and makes him swing back into the fat fake cock Jack is holding, despite their prisoner’s efforts to try and keep himself from moving.

They are not hurting him, of course; they are not interested in the mess that the blood would inevitably cause – but McCree keeps howling as if they were splitting his belly clean open.

Gabriel is absolutely fascinated. Jack looks like it, too, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the swollen hairy rim that is wrapped around the special toy.

It is no longer the simple plastic one that had been used to keep McCree nice and spread and ready for use. This time it is one with big holes all over its surface, and a thick cord attached to the base of it. Jack has a little remote in his hand.

When they grow tired of swinging McCree back and forth and listen to his heart felt sobs as he gets fucked in the most humiliating and unsatisfying way, they stand back and watch him as he tries to calm himself down, sniffling pathetically and lifting one knee to try and hide how fat and flushed his cock has become behind his thigh.

He blinks rapidly. His face is an ungainly ruddy red, cheeks wet from his tears. Gabriel is absolutely fascinated how sensitive this big bad boss from the Deadlock gang really is. Right now he looks more like a recalcitrant little boy than the ruthless head of a gang. He wonders if he could make him howl while he fucks him.

But that is for another time.

“What are you… what are you doing?” McCree asks with a rough voice, glancing over towards them. He tries to wipe his face against his shoulder but can’t quite manage to reach. He seems exhausted. He’s going to be a whole lot more exhausted when they’re through with him.

Jack pushes the button of the remote in his hand. The machine behind McCree starts a deep mechanical hum. He tenses all over, clenching his eyes shut and obviously waiting for the slow, insistent push of a machine’s piston to start fucking him. When nothing of the sorts happens, he slowly opens his eyes again and peeks over to them. Confused.

They stand side by side, shoulder to shoulder. One wall of thickly muscled soldiers staring at their newest toy. They don’t let anything on, faces calm. Expressionless. Waiting for the sensation to finally hit McCree.

When it does, they can’t help the slow, satisfied grins spreading on their faces: McCree starts becoming desperate. He whines and twists, impotently swinging in his binds as he tries to reach the floor but his sweaty feet slip and slide against the slick underground.

“What… what is that? What are you doing?!” he cries out in alarm. Gabriel’s guess is that the kid has never gotten his intestines filled with thick slimy liquid. 

Before long he is howling, swearing up and down that they are about to make his belly burst. That he can’t take it. That they need to stop right now or they’ll kill him dead.

They keep ominously quiet, watching as the tank of the machine slowly starts depleting. They can imagine how the slime is oozing out of the holes in the dildo; starting to fill McCree’s intestines until his belly starts to visibly bulge.

Soon he starts looking heavily pregnant. His hirsute belly is swinging beneath him, his demands having transitioned into quiet, wheezing sobs as the rest of the slime starts to bubble out of him past the stopper of the dildo wedged deep inside him.

Jack shuts off the machine with a quiet click of the remote. They glance at each other, cocks fat bulges in their slacks. McCree groans – he sounds relieved, obviously thinking that finally he has gotten through his ordeal.

He has no idea that now they’re just starting to play with him.