Patreon Compilation – Fic#140 – Blast From The Past! (Patreon)

This week's fic is a 'blast from the past' fic! To see on why that is, please have a small look into the pinned post. As already stated there, I can't encourage you enough to link your patreon to discord to have a peek into the patron-only channel – or to DM me for further info if you can't/don't want to link. Thank you!

Readable for all tiers this time :)

---------

This blast from the past is Patreon Comp Fic#5! Please enjoy this McCree/Hanzo :)

Blackwatch setting; Humiliation; Chest Groping; Cream Pie; Restraints – Life as a pet in Deadlock is not easy. Hanzo learns the very hard way.

.o.

Hanzo is not allowed to wear clothes he hasn’t been exclusively given permission to by Jesse. The rule had taken a while to sink into his stubborn head, but by now he embraces it just as readily as all the other things Jesse does with him. To him.

He opens his mouth without question when asked to, looking up with some kind of adoration to whoever has been asking Jesse for the right to use him. He’ll say please and thank you like a good boy when they piss on him, taking extra care to soak his hair; calling him a useless slut and a loose fuckhole in the process.

In the beginning, he had been near crazed with anger, fighting against all his restraints, trying to bite and make them submit the way he’s been used to all his life; but Jesse’s tender loving care had soon make him realize his true… potential.

Hanzo is a prisoner, and his conditioning through his jailor highly unethical but… well. Reyes does not know about it. Officially.

They are all careful; making sure someone is standing watch while the others have fun ridiculing the Shimada heir; watching as his pristine, austere facade crumbles into canine subservience whenever Jesse pulls out his dick.

What a good boy he has become.

“Hey, McCree. Wanna play?”

Jesse looks up from his data pad, glancing over towards where the guys are sitting around a table. He sees the cards strewn above its surface and grunts.

“Nah. ‘M good.”

“No, man.” Andre turns completely away from the table and pointedly looks at the toy kneeling on the floor, McCree’s booted feet on its back. There’s a serene look on Hanzo’s face. A deep seated languidness, like he’s found his place in life as human furniture, kneeling on an enemy base in nothing but his fundoshi because Jesse enjoys the sight of how traditional he looks with it.

“I meant. Y’know. Play.”

McCree notices the looks from the other guys now, too; the slightly glassy look in their eyes as they longingly stare at Hanzo. He is trim and beautiful – he’s been a thing to behold in his sharp suit when they first got the little spitfire back to the Blackwatch base deep beneath the official Overwatch HQ – and they’ve been hankering to pull his well-fucked, pliant hole across their dicks for quite some time.

“Hmm… I mean… I guess?”

Jesse is always ready to play, to be quite honest; especially if he has some appreciative audience. He nods towards the door, eyebrows raised, and Miller amicably gets up to take the first lookout spot. They’re all suitably sure that Reyes has already seen his share via the camera feed, but he’s usually good about turning a blind eye as long as they don’t get blatant about the things they get up to.

Jesse nods, satisfied, and lifts one foot, nudging it against Hanzo’s hip.

The toy blinks like its coming out of a deep sleep, then slowly looks around. Noticing the undivided attention of everybody in the room, Hanzo’s demeanor changes. Jesse grins.

.o.

Hanzo might be an obedient little toy, but he does know how to make a show for them. It is moments like these: Hanzo struggling against the hold Andre has on his hair, trying to get at Jesse’s dick presented before him, that remind Jesse that Hanzo is not broken. He’s just that much of a slut for the humiliation they can dish out.

He supposes it makes some sort of sense. He’s probably never felt as deeply, intimately humiliated in the powerful lap of his family as he did that first day when someone ripped his immeasurably expensive silk short open and commented on the bounce of his tits.

“Hey, you wanna get dick, slut?” Tobias laughs. He’s next to Jesse, though a good arm’s length away. He hasn’t got his cock out yet but is massaging the bulge with one hand, eyes glued to how Hanzo’s cock is already stiff beneath the fabric of the fundoshi; getting it wet with pre-cum.

Hanzo whines and pulls against the hold Andre has on his hair. He could use his hands, of course; could incapacitate all of them within a few scarily efficient moves, but he doesn’t. He has his hands on his thick thighs, keeping them there with the sheer force of his will as Andre takes a step forward and lets him close to Jesse’s cock without touching him.

Close enough, that Hanzo can probably smell the thick scent of his dick, something he’s been damn near conditioned to at this point to respond like a starved dog, mouth going open and tongue lolling as he tries to get a bit closer.

Tobias laughs breathlessly and Miller has a problem seeing any of the action as his head is on a constant swivel, trying to see what’s going on while also keeping one eye out on the deserted corridors of the base.

“Hey McCree. I think your pet doesn’t really wanna have your cock. He doesn’t even try properly,” Andre comments. He has an erection like a baseball bat that he is proudly carrying in front of him. There’s a dribble of pre-cum slowly oozing from the tip and down to the linoleum that’s everywhere on base. It bobs awkwardly whenever he moves. Enough to make Hanzo look at it out of the corner of his eye as he is pulling against the harsh grip on his hair, panting like a dog, chest heaving for Jesse’s viewing pleasure.

Jesse laughs at Andre’s barb. He’s leaning back, dick so heavy with blood, it droops against his thick thigh and gets the fabric of his pants a bit sticky.

“Y’ think so?” he drawls. Hanzo’s dark eyes dart back to him. Damn but he’s pretty as a picture. “Come on, babe. Give ‘em a show.” His gaze travels down to the small mess Andre’s cock is producing on the linoleum, and he tilts his head towards it.

“Clean the floor, whydon’tcha?”

Andre grunts and lets go of Hanzo’s hair. Instead, he focuses on jerking his cock, adding long strings of pre-cum to the mess as Hanzo bends down with an unfair amount of grace, head tilting towards the ground. All of them watch with sick fascination as his candy red tongue comes out to lap at the mess.

Jesse groans long and drawn out, his hand wandering to his cock, eyes almost feverish as he watches Hanzo lick the floor clean. He looks surprised; like he never expects Hanzo to actually do the depraved shit he asks for.

“Damn,” he whispers, and then again louder and rougher: “Damn. I mean… fuck, you’re nasty.”

It does not sound disgusted, though… quite the contrary: he sounds awed; a bit reverent maybe. When he snaps his fingers and Hanzo comes crawling into his lap like a well-trained dog, he seems almost weirded out; like he tries to figure out why the hell this Yakuza prince is doing all of this…

But Hanzo eagerly stuffing his well-fucke, silky hole with his dick tends to make him lose track of his thoughts.

He clenches his teeth, big hands coming to Hanzo’s hips as he only barely registers Tobias exchanging places with Miller.

“Damn, McCree. Wish I were you. How’s it feel?” Miller likes it that way; talking about Hanzo like he’s some form of toy; nothing more than a portable cunt to stick his dick into and pump full of his load, and Jesse can’t say that he’s started a liking for it.

He reaches up, cups Hanzo’s pecs and squeezes like they’re a pair of tits.

“Like a goddamn glove. Could fuck him three times a day and he just sucks you right in like he’s born to do it.”

Miller grunts in acknowledgement. His face is flushed; he does look like he’d do nothing more than grunt fuck Hanzo into the dirty linoleum floor right now. Andre has become mostly quiet except for his canine panting, eyes glued where Hanzo is stretched wide around Jesse’s dick. He’s probably staring at how pink and plump Hanzo’s rim looks like this.

God knows Jesse has put mirrors up in his room just to watch the magic happen as he bounces his toy on his lap like a cheap three dollar whore.

Jesse leans back, staring up at Hanzo’s face; how his mouth is slack as if downright shocked at how good it feels to have Jesse’s dick threatening to fuck right through his belly button.

“Hit its tits. Please,” Miller whines and Jesse has mercy with him. Hanzo’s face flushes as dark pink as his pectorals do when his large palm slaps them. His eyes are glassy, cock wetting liberally through the fundoshi that’s merely pushed a little to the side to let Jesse deep-dick him.

“Fuck. McCree. Can I come on the whore?” Andre’s voice is whining, big puppy dog eyes glassy as he tries to hold back from coming too soon. His hand is a claw around the base of his dick, his face a beet red.

Jesse grunts and leans back, giving Hanzo’s left tit another sharp slap that has Hanzo gurgle and stutter, his cock jumping in its confines.

“Sure. Go for it.”

Hanzo doesn’t lose his stride –  even when Andre’s warm cum splashes against the tattoo curling across his shoulder and drips down his back.