Patreon Compilation – Fic#54 – Sombra/Roadhog – humiliation; degradation; watersports – I Spy With My Little Eye (Patreon)

Sombra hasn’t done anything to make Mako aware that she is inside his rooms, but still his arm suddenly shoots out to the side about an hour into her stay, and his hand closes in the front of her outfit.

There’s a jolt forward that makes her teeth rattle and her spine ache for a moment as she is bend, and then she can feel his big hand roaming her invisible form until his fat, surprisingly sensitive fingers find the little device that keeps the invisibility cloak up, and crush it like a potato chip.

“What the hell, man?!” she screeches, struggling like a wet cat with arms and legs and claws. “That’s expensive gear! Fuck you!”

Mako does not react; he doesn’t even grunt when she slashes at his arm with her sharp nails; just keeps an inescapable grab on her and stares at her through the dark glasses of his mask.

She’d had thought that at least inside his rooms he would take it off, but no such luck. It seems almost fused to his face. He doesn’t even take it off to shower with the rest of the team – and she knows. She has watched them countless of times through the little hidden camera she installed months ago. She’s got all their measurements down.

“Let go of me!” she finally whines when nothing happens other than him slowly, laboriously breathing and staring down at her. All the little hairs on her body are standing on end. She’s not scared of him, of course, but the longer he just keeps her pinned like a butterfly, the more… threatening he seems. Creepy.

He is giving off heat like a furnace. His huge belly is expanding impossibly wide with every slow breath in, and she thinks if she took a needle to it it just had to burst.

She clenches her thighs together, uncomfortably horny just staring at how fat he is. She’s been fantasizing about him a lot more than the other guys. She wants to ride his belly and smear her cunt all over it.

But right now he gives off these serial killer vibes that not even she can ignore.

“It was just a joke, okay?” she whines. “I wouldn’t have stolen anything!”

She would have thought that his rooms would be absolutely bare, but they are anything but. There are little Pachimari toys strewn about in tasteful intervals that make it seem very deliberate on his part, and a whole cabinet full of antique looking little tea sets.

She doesn’t know yet if she is disturbed or delighted.

If he is embarrassed about her finding out, she wouldn’t be able to tell. He is still just standing there, seemingly debating what to do with her.

When he does suddenly move, she lifts her arms immediately on pure instinct to shield her face. 

He is not hitting her, though. What he’s doing is starting to strip her of the tight spandex-like clothes she is wearing.

“What… what are you doing?!” she squeaks, cheeks pounding warm and excited despite how horrified she sounded.

He doesn’t say anything, still. Maybe he thinks her below any more attention that he’s already giving her, and the thought is… honestly hot. Sombra likes when men aren’t giving her the attention she craves. She likes being their toy every once in a while…

but Roadhog… Roadhog makes it scary, too. His silence is scraping at her nerves and makes her struggle more than she normally would have. She’s fighting to get free and only succeeds in annoying him enough to get out a pair of handcuffs with which he binds her wrists behind her back.

“You came here of your own will.”

She freezes at the sudden sound of his voice, breath hitching on a barely-there squeak when one huge hand grabs her between the thighs without so much as a second of hesitation. One fat sausage finger is pressing right against the seam of her labia, feeling her up through the tight fabric of her pants.

“You came here, reeking of horny cunt. And you thought I wouldn’t notice you?”

Sombra flushes in immediate humiliation at the thought of the slickness of her pussy having been the thing that alerted him to her. She is looking up at him with big eyes. He is so close, his huge belly is pressing into her. Bearing down on her.

She feels like a little toy that will be broken at the end of this night, but… the thought is kind of exciting. Very exciting, even.

He’s pulled her top down just enough to let her tits pop free, sitting there heaving and prominent while she can feel herself getting more and more slick from the fat finger rubbing against her cunt.

Dios… she has toys that are smaller than his fingers.

His other hand is curled around her bound wrists, pulling on her arms until she has to bend herself to his will so he wouldn’t pop her shoulders out of their sockets, offering up her breasts, the dark nipples tight with excitement.

He is looking at her quietly with his expressionless mask. Fuck, that guy is scary. She starts to twist with a whine, trying to get out of his grip.

“Come onnn!” Her voice has climbed up high and needy. “Just… It was just a prank, alright?! No need to get all scary and ax-murderer on me!”

He grunts softly and steps back suddenly. He lets go of her arms just to grab her shoulder and pull her over to his bed. She is breathing quick and nervous, belly quivering as she can’t make up her mind if she is aroused or scared.

It’s difficult to get a read on him; he could just be fucking around with her… or he is planning to fuck her and kill her – and nobody in Talon would give a shit, really.

He pushes her over the side of the low bed until she is braced mostly on her face and shoulders, her ass high up in the air. It only takes a small, harsh rip by his fat fingers to have her leggins somewhere around her knees. She can practically feel how her slick stretches in glistening strands from the shaved, plump lips of her cunt to the seat of her leggins.

“Disgusting,” he says suddenly, low and foreboding. He always sounds like he is just one brisk jog away from keeling over, but it is difficult to focus on that when she can feel herself being spread for his viewing pleasure; opening up her hole and flashing her deep red insides for his calm, calculating gaze.

At least she thinks it is calm and calculating behind the large goggles of his mask. She clenches her eyes shut, biting her lips to keep herself from sobbing.

“So small…” she hears him breathe; he sounds almost wistfully. “You won’t fit…”

There’s the sound of a zipper being lowered. He grunts as he ostensibly drags out the beer can that he calls a cock. She’s seen it before, flaccid; barely visible beneath the heavy sag of his impossibly fat gut.

Her eyes water as she thinks about him ramming that thing into her sweet little pussy.

“I’ll just have to make do…”

She can’t help the sob that escapes her, harsh and a bit hysterical sounding.

Something huge and blunt pushes against her opening, gently just rounding the rim of her little cunt while something else equally big is dragging against her clit, strumming the tight bud like an instrument.

In her mind, he is trying to forcibly cram his huge dick into her, and the thought is so instantly scary and impossible that she can’t help but loose control over her bladder, body hot and tight and singing in a confused orgasm he’s tickling out of her while she pisses herself. The liquid is soaking her leggins and splattering against the linoleum floor.

The fat, blunt thing at her entrance pops inside while he laughs slow and laboriously.

It takes her a while to realize that it’s just one of his sausage fingers.

She is drooling into his bedding, eyes rolled up into her head as he fucks her on his finger, still rounding, rounding, rounding her clit as the last bits of orgasm and piss are teased out of her.

“Never sneak into my rooms again,” he rasps, “or next time it will be my cock.”

Her knees are shaking and she nods uncoordinatedly.