Patreon Compilation – Fic#212 – Shane/Clint – coercion; cross dressing – Life Keeps Being Hard 3 (Patreon)

Part 1 (Patreon Link)

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Part 3 (This Part)

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Part 5 (Patreon Link)

Shane/Clint – reluctant consent – Second part of Shane with his first client.

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“What is it, Emily? Am I still not enough for you? You damn tease! showing up with that dress and showing off your tits and I’m still not fucking allowed to get a taste?!”

Shane scrambles to find something to say, panicking at the thought of what his boss might do if Clint told him that ‘Emily’ shot him off and his perfect date night had been a total bust.

“Uh I mean… I mean, Clint, listen, I just-”

“You know what? I’m not the bad guy. You are.” He’s suddenly right in Shane’s face, pointing one thick finger and nearly poking him in the eye with it. “You are the problem here. You’re a tease that shows herself off and cries wolf when a decent guy tries to be good for you. And you know what? I’m done with that. You hear me? I am done. I am done being the nice guy.”

Shane feels himself grabbed by the shoulder and forcibly turned around. The feeling of having stepped into some kind of alternate universe is so prevalent now that he feels dizzy as Clint forces him to lean over the large anvil, still uncomfortably hot after a long day of work; probably tinkering with the farmer’s tools or something.

He doesn’t know. He still tries to get out of this whole situation and get Clint to calm down. Not that he is listening to him as he rucks up the ugly blue dress he’s been made to wear and slaps his ass with enough force that Shane’s lungs stop working for a long moment while the sting ricochets through his body.

Clint might look like a bumbling fat fool but he’s a blacksmith and that comes with having the strength of an ox, it seems like.

“There, look at that. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? You whore. You’ve wanted to spread your legs from the start, didn’t you? Of course you did. Probably suck off the guys behind the bar once Gus closes up for the night. No wonder you’ve got these cock sucking lips on you. Just ol’ Clint never gets to have a taste, huh? Well, that’ll change tonight.”

The room feels like it is spinning, heat and lack of oxygen mixing in with the panic he feels as he still wonders whether Clint will go and tell Morris about this. It takes him quite a while to realize that Clint is in his own little world, probably actually thinking about him as ‘Emily’ as he finally gets to vent his frustrations.

In fact, it takes him probably until the moment his cheeks are spread wide and Clint comments about his slutty cunt to finally ‘get it’. It’s shocking to hear the guy speaking so candidly but it also kind of… well… it does get him going.

Clint ignores the fact that his junk is hanging right there and just spits on his hole to force fuck his thumb right into him. The rough callouses he’s got going tug uncomfortably on Shane’s sensitive skin and make tears shoot into his eyes even as he struggles to shift his hips a little so his cock won’t be pressed against the side of the warm anvil.

“I’ll fuck you,” Clint growls breathlessly, working to get his dick out from the sound of it. He’s no longer holding Shane; he could just up and leave now, but he doesn’t. His hole is tingling and needy after Clint got him going.

He just needs to see this through at this point, no matter how rough the blacksmith becomes as he slaps his ass hard again. The warmth radiating off of Shane’s ass is spreading through his body like liquid and seeps into his head like poison. He can feel himself becoming strangely submissive, his limbs just way too heavy to respond to him so all he does when Clint begins to spank him good and proper is to moan all high and simpering like the fool he has become since being trained by Morris.

A braindead bimbo that just wants to please Alpha males with his pussy…

Not that Clint would ever have been on his list of what he considers to be an ‘Alpha male’. Especially once he begins to cram his dick inside him and Shane realizes just how lacking the guy is in that regard. Good thing Emily is too oblivious to go for his clumsy advances, poor girl would never be able to get off on a small two-incher like that.

Fuck…

But Shane can. Apparently. Clint is almost fucking him dry and it really doesn’t take a bull cock to make it feel like he’s getting spread open far beyond what should be possible.

Clint is already breathing deep and labored, leaning over Shane, his belly pressing him down against the anvil to not let him go anywhere even if he were able to move his limbs.

Shit, he really has become a masochist of some kind. His body is still thrumming from the slaps and his hole is clenching desperately around Clint’s short cock.

“Yeah… yeah… you like that, don’t you? Sluts like you just love dick in every hole. Oh, Emily – I always knew you’d take my dick like a champ.”

Shane’s ears are ringing. He doesn’t know if he finds it hot or disturbing that Clint is still holding on to calling him Emily while he starts to move in janky thrusts that nearly pull his small dick out all the way every damn time.

The mushroom tip is especially flared, giving him the illusion of more girth than he actually has. Tears shoot into Shane’s eyes whenever he forces the ridge back into him all anew, his heart pounding a mile a minute.

He’s so damn hot, he feels like he’s already scrambling with an orgasm and the whole thing has only just started getting really good. He can’t come yet. Not like this, shamefully shooting his load while getting… r-raped? It doesn’t feel like rape. It feels way too good for that.

Morris really has fucked him up, it seems. Or maybe it’s just him being a nasty bastard. He’s watched a few hentai about girls getting coerced but he’s never really fantasized about himself being on the receiving end.

Certainly not about being bent over an anvil and having the fat, aging blacksmith bent over his back to rut into him while he’s wearing a wig and dress…

“Your pussy feels so good, Emily… you’re so tight still… you weren’t a virgin, right? You let guys fuck you in the cunt didn’t you? Or do you just suck them off behind the bar to put a bit more coin into your purse?”

Shane can’t believe the things Clint is saying in a low, raspy voice. He’s only ever heard him give monosyllabic answers usually or grunting out short, concise sentences. Hearing him wheezing while spewing absolute filth right into his ear is making him feel even more like he’s in a dream or something.

And all he can do is moan like a simpering idiot, not because he’s so into his roleplay but because that is his genuine reaction. His body is on fire and his cock is pulsing angrily with the beating of his heart.

To add insult to injury, Clint reaches around him and starts to grope Shane as if he had tits. His large, calloused hands are rough as they pull on the dress until it is sitting somewhere beneath his pecks so he can grab what little meat there is and squeeze it.

Shane’s nipples drag against the blacksmith’s rough palms and pleasure shoots through his body electric and exciting, mixing in with the feeling of the short dick sawing back-and-forth through his burning hole. His rim is tingling wildly and feels impossibly swollen; a whorish mouth wrapped around Clint’s short dick to suck him off desperately.

“You take precautions, right, Emily? You’re on the pill, aren’t you?” he chuffs into Shane’s ear. He’s pretty much lying with his whole weight on him now. Shane can feel his breath fanning against neck when he talks. “I’ll come inside you… mark you up good,” he promises in a rough voice.

The craziest fucking thing is that for a moment Shane is actually panicking, a half-stutter stuck in his throat as his first instinct is to beg Clint not to do it, he’s not on the pill…

God fuck, what’s wrong with him?! His body aches with how desperately he wants to cum now and Clint talking like a sleezebag about how he’s going to cum inside him to flood his womb and how he hopes it’s not one of his fertile days… it makes everything that much worse. It’s horrible. It’s horrible how into this shit Shane is, his eyes rolling into his head when he physically feels Clint shooting off inside him, barebacking and ‘impregnating’ him.

He can’t help it that he comes like a slut then, shooting his own load against the side of the anvil, his whole body singing from the delicious abuse he’s went through.

He just knows that he won’t ever forget the filth that Clint has been spewing during their date. It’ll serve as jerk-off material maybe for the rest of his goddamn life.