Reward for my Honorary Sibling Patron! (Patreon)

Doomfist/Soldier76 – brainwashing/conditioning – Akande forces Jack's mind to bend for him.

Part 1 (This Part)

Part 2 (Patreon Link)

---

Jack is gritting his teeth together and trying not to scream, Akande can tell. The old soldier is beneath him, heaving air with some difficulty into his lungs. It is no wonder – Akande is on his back, bearing down and making it as difficult for him as possible to not pass out due to lack of oxygen.

“Get… off of me-” Jack wheezes.

Akande clicks his tongue. He has the soldier’s arms twisted onto his back, close to dislocating one of them if Jack gives him the slightest excuse for it.

“That would be rather counter productive, don’t you think? Now that I finally have you where I want you…” He speaks slow and methodical, right into the soldier’s ear. It is almost the croon of a lover… he can tell it is getting to Jack. Especially with the fat erection nestled in the crack of his ass.

“Good soldiers get a treat. Bad soldiers get disciplined,” Akande tells him gently. He sits up, finally letting Jack breathe a little easier. He has his knees spread wide to keep his cock where it is, enjoying the burn in his thighs.

Jack inhales deep yet shaky. He must have been trained for this once upon a time but if that has happened it is so long gone that his body doesn’t remember. Akande will utilize that for himself. He moves his hips.

“Say please.”

“Fuck you.”

Akande lifts a brow, trying to see into the old soldier’s face, but Jack keeps twisting it around, trying to hide himself from him.

His tone changes quickly when Akande forces his cock into him. His nervous, yet quiet composure cracks considerably. He still does not scream, but his breathing is labored and wet, his insides squeezing down hard trying to force him out despite not having any chance on the matter.

There is blood easing the way for him but it’s still a tight fit. Akande is not a small man, after all. He rocks his hips relentlessly. A man like him does not need to use force in order to make it hurt.

“S-Stop it!”

Soldier’s voice is cracked. He tries so hard to sound like he has any sway on the matter… it is honestly inspiring. Akande keeps his hold on the old man’s wrists, making sure he can’t go anywhere as he calmly pushes deeper into his guts. And deeper.

“Good soldiers get a treat,” he repeats, voice pitched into a gentle, understanding murmur. “Bad boys…” he pulls back, watching the thick glisten of blood on his shaft, then slides back into the resisting body slow and methodical, “...get disciplined.”

He pauses to let the words sink in, then continues: “Say please.”

“Never!”

Jack is getting more agitated again. He tries to wind his way out of Akande’s grip… to no avail, of course.

Akande doesn’t let him move an inch as long as he doesn’t want him to. Instead, he keeps his motions up. Calm and slow; there is no need for undue cruelty. Jack’s head is doing most of the work at this point.

He can almost see the hairline cracks in his pride starting to spider out into a web, rattled by every of Akande’s leisurely thrusts… breaking apart wider and wider.

A supersoldier has a lot of stamina. So does Akande. There is no rush, no urgency. He keeps at it with a steady pace and calm voice. A man like Jack is used to harsh words and threats… not so much to the insidiously sweet whisper of a lover telling him to calm down. To take a deep breath. To be a good boy that gets a treat when he just says please.

There aren’t many sounds during the many hours that Akande works with Jack. Most of the time it is rather quiet… just the breathing of the both of them – Jack’s becoming more and more labored as time goes on… and the slick sound of his cock slip-sliding through the bloody mess he’s made when he force fucked his way into his victim.

He isn’t doing it because he wants to fuck him. He is doing it because he wants to break him. He wants to have the soldier and he has found long ago that this is one of the most effective methods to get to a man as proud as Jack Morrison.

“Good boys get treats,” Akande whispers at him. He has very slowly let go of Morrison’s arms by now. The soldier has started moving them but started to sob when he felt the pain radiating from his shoulders after hours of having them held on his back. It took a good hour until his body regenerated enough to let him move them so he can hide his face in them. It does not seem to occur to him to simply… fight back at this point.

Akande is brushing a gentle hand over the short white hair, his lips almost in a kiss against his ear.

“Good boys get treats,” he croons again. “Just say please…”

Jack turns his head away, but before he does so, Akande can see the tears glistening in his eyelashes. He shudders from head to toe, his insides squeezing pathetically down on him.

“P...please…” he rasps with a cracked, defeated voice.

This is just the beginning of his conditioning, of course… but Akande can tell that it has left an impression on him.

When Akande comes inside him almost as an afterthought, slowly and finally pulling out to leave his gaping bloody hole to rest, he can hear him whisper a subservient ‘thank you’.

“Good boy,” Akande croons. It has Jack shuddering from head to toe again, goosebumps visibly lifting all over his body.

Wonderful...