Patreon Compilation – Fic#139 – RK900/Gavin Reed – dirty talk; degradation; voyeurism/exhibitionism; crying; Dom/sub – Naughty Boy 2 (Patreon)
Content
Part 1 (Patreon Link)
Part 2 (this part)
RK900/Gavin Reed – Nines' grip on Reed becomes tighter. It begins to slide over into their private lives where he trains the Detective into being a more obedient... puppy.
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Gavin tries to put up a fight and balk when the door opens and they see the inside of the room behind, but RK900 had been expecting this (among other very probably outcomes) and simply keeps walking. Just a couple steps in the leash pulls taut, dragging Gavin into the room proper.
There is a fine music playing overhead; not classical but close to it. It doesn’t drown out the smattering of soft conversation had here and there. LEDs are circling in soft blues on the temple of every cyborg while their humans are sitting quietly to their feet, naked except for the collars and leashes they are sporting. Just like Gavin is.
He had sneered and tried to be all tough when RK900 told him where they would be going. It had been all too easy to detect the nervousness and how he had tried to gloss over it. It’s Reed’s usual go-to reaction to feeling insecure and overwhelmed.
It is… fine, RK900 supposes. These types of clubs are still few and far between despite the peaceful way cyborgs and humans have been living together for a while now. He had… felt… gratified to find this one relatively close by.
The conversation neither drops, nor rises up more. They are just doing it in order to appease the nervous animals at their feet, after all. Cyborgs can converse without the need to audible components, but the pale faces of their human counterparts show that Gavin is not the only one unsure about this whole experience.
The cyborgs are showing… compassion. RK900 pulls just a bit of a face. He slowly moves through the room, half-leading, half-pulling Gavin along. He wants to see what they are working with.
Reed is crawling along, albeit only because he does not have another option.
The humans around them are different to Gavin. They are smooth and perfect; cyborg like. As far as RK900 can tell, not a single one has the scars that Gavin possesses. They have perfect faces and perfect bodies.
Gavin must have noticed that as well because as RK900 finally comes to a stand at one of the walls, thoughtfully overlooking the room, he curls up like a gargoyle at his feet, trying to hide his body.
Nines reaches down, fingers grabbing a hold of Gavin’s hair to pull on it sharply until he finally unfurls with a hiss, his face twisted in pain. He reaches up, hands clutching at Nines’ wrist. He still has not learned that he is no match for Nines’ strength, it seems.
His pathetic whine has others in the room turn to stare at them, watching as Nines very calmly puts his human animal into place.
If Nines were inclined to be any nicer than now, he would tell Gavin to stop being self-conscious and that he is by far the prettiest of the pets. As it stands, he merely goes down into a squat so he can whisper into Gavin’s flushed ear.
“They are all watching you and seeing what a pathetic mess you are, Detective. They would not have given you a second thought if you had not ridiculed yourself. Look at them.” He gives him a sharp little shake when Reed keeps his eyes scrunched shut. “Look at them, Detective.”
Gavin blinks his eyes open. They are very blue and very wet already. For a male presenting human in his profession, Reed is… very prone to tears; be it of frustration or sadness or embarrassment as they are now. Nines had been a lot more annoyed with that fact when they had met. Now he just finds it intriguing and amusing. He likes to make the Detective cry.
Quietly, Gavin is staring out at the room that is looking back at him. The human pets all look varying degrees of confused and empathetic. They do not know what a disgrace he is.
The cyborgs are looking on impassively, only their LEDs, sometimes flashing a little yellow, show that they are interested in the show.
Nines reaches around him. He spreads Gavin’s knees, showing him off to the others; how scarred his body is. How subpar his cock looks, hanging between his thighs and starting to plump up despite itself.
“Look at them,” Nines murmurs into Gavin’s flushed ear. “They stare at you. See you. They think you are an averagely handsome man. They think you are kind of cute with how you are close to crying already. But that is because they do not have the information of your profession. If they knew what a pathetic little detective you are… that their safety is in the hands of a despicable little crybaby… they would be disgusted by you.”
Gavin inhales with a shudder.
Nines can tell that he is trying very hard to hold on to his tears. He lets his software extrapolate a few possible outcomes on what would happen if he pushed him just a bit more to make him cry.
Nothing of it seems very interesting right now so he backs off from the possibility, instead, moving a hand to grasp Gavin’s cock. It is only half-hard but growing noticeably as it is stimulated in front of the eyes of so many onlookers.
“What a nasty boy,” Nines whispers into Gavin’s ear. “You like them watching you, don’t you? Hmm how interesting. You are ashamed of your looks but at the same time insanely proud of them. If you were a cyborg I would recommend having the manufacturer have a look at you as there must be an extensive glitch in your programming. Since you are decidedly no esteemed cyborg, however…”
He keeps moving his hand as he talks to Gavin, low and intimate as if whispering sweet nothings into his ear instead of systematically breaking him apart. His thumb and forefinger lightly squeeze the tip of the Detective’s cock before using them to pull his foreskin back and expose the glistening glans to the rest of the room.
Gavin is breathing faster now. He gets off on having Nines put him down just as much as he hates it and fights against any of the insinuations.
Nines watches the other humans, sitting docile like pets to the feet of their cyborg partners. It is where they look the best – and where they belong, ultimately. Their faces are slack and full of dumb wonder, fascinated by the display of one of theirs being reduced to a quivering, sniffling little boy.
They are waiting with bated breath for him to crumble and start bawling like the pathetic little boy he is… and Nines is waiting for it, too. He keeps dragging the loose slip of Gavin’s foreskin over his glans, pinching it together at the tip and then pulling it back down until it is bunched up just beneath the swollen ridge.
It has the effect that Gavin is starting to gasp like a fish. His face has taken on a fascinating red hue, the scar across the bridge of his hooked nose standing out in stark contrast. His eyes are closed so he wouldn’t have to look at their audience as his hips begin to jerk into Nines’ touch, chasing a quick and dirty orgasm that is already brewing inside him.
As so many things about Gavin Reed, his ability to orgasm fast like a human adolescent is nothing to write home about. Nines would be bored with him if it weren’t so… entertaining to watch this catastrophe of a human try with the pettiness of an infant to carve out any modicum of respect that he can while simultaneously destroying it by just how… ridiculous he is.
How inadequate in every aspect of his being.
Gavin’s cock has grown as big as it will get. Nines is unable to manipulate his foreskin like he has earlier, so he just goes over to showing him off to the onlookers. The girth of his cock. The length of it. The veins pulsing along the shaft. The heft of his testicles as they lay in his palm.
At some point while Nines is looking down and committing the sight to memory – literally – Gavin starts to finally cry. It’s quieter than usual; little snivels as his tears drip down his cheeks, eyes clenched shut tightly.
It’s not like crying is keeping him from orgasming. Quite from it. Nines can tell how his heart rate is picking up, body temperature rising with it. He wraps his hand around the Detective’s cock, giving it slow, tight tugs that have him hiccup out weird little sounds that are somewhere between a moan and a sob.
Nines keeps jerking him just this side of pleasurable. He can’t help always wanting to be mean to the Detective to make him cry. Something about him losing his countenance again and again is overwriting Nines’ more rational responses. It is quite vexing.
He also can’t deny that he is becoming somewhat… protective of the Detective. It wouldn’t do to let anybody else bring him to tears.
After all… they are partners.