CYOA 2 – To The Victor Go The Spoils – Chapter 42: Cheeky (Patreon)
Content
Last time: Hanzo got invited to some midnight trysts by Hana. He finally played with Winston and his big dick.
Content/warnings: spanking
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Hana has her arms clutched around Hanzo’s bicep, helping him make his way on unsteady legs through a door and along a short hallway, leaving Winston behind in the previous room.
Hanzo feels barely coherent. Every step he takes, more cum dribbles out of his tingling hole, causing him to shudder in the most exquisite way possible.
He’s naked but that only really registers to him once they are at the other side of the hallway and Hana is reaching out for the doorhandle.
“Wait… I… my stuff-” he half turns, peering back down the way they came. In the other room he can see Winston with Hanzo’s pyjama bottoms pressed against his face, inhaling deeply while his other hand is around his cock, going for round two or three, it seems.
Hanzo exhales softly, suddenly wanting to be back there real bad.
He can’t, though. Not without Hana’s help. She impatiently pulls on his arm.
“You don’t need clothes! Come on! Everybody is just waiting for you!”
Everybody? Who is everybody?
Hanzo turns back forward just to see Hana thrusting the door open to pull him inside a pretty much identical room to where he had been before. Sitting on the large, plush sofa inside is none other than Reinhardt.
Even sitting he looks larger than life, his face lighting up with a huge grin as he sees the both of them. He gestures with a hand, in his fingers a glass that looks more like a shot glass for him. On the low table in front is the bottle of liquor he is treating himself with as he waits.
“There you are! I had been about to ask whether we are still on! But I can see dear Hanzo has been hard at work! Haha! Oh don’t you look absolutely adorable. Come here, my boy! Long time no see, yes?”
His booming voice is a shock to the system. Hanzo feels goosebumps breaking out all over his skin; his scalp is prickling as Hana guides him toward the old man until she can all but deposit him with him so she can close the door and lock the warmth inside their little space.
Meanwhile Reinhardt has grasped one of Hanzo’s hands and is lifting it toward his mouth, brushing a bristly kiss against his knuckles like some kind of knight out of a fairytale.
He can pull it off, though; with that kind gaze of his, little laughing lines perpetually creasing the corners of his eyes. He looks like a nice old grandpa and not like he’s been sitting here, waiting for his personal whore of the night to arrive and service him.
Hanzo’s mouth is getting dry. Maybe Reinhardt can tell somehow because he tugs him even closer and lifts the glass he had been sipping on to Hanzo’s lips, encouraging him to have a taste.
He does. He reels from the taste; it explodes across his tongue, overwhelming his senses. He feels like he would stagger backwards if Reinhardt weren’t holding him by the wrist. Instead he can feel himself being urged forward, the world spinning around him.
Hanzo is sure that normally he wouldn’t have such a strong reaction to something as simple as Whiskey, but then again, he had not really been prepared for the thick earthy taste suddenly spreading all around his mouth.
He can hear Reinhardt laughing through the ringing in his ears; and joining him is the higher cadence of D.Va’s giggle. She is… still here? He somehow thought she would have the decency to excuse herself to leave him and Reinhardt alone.
Then again, he should have known that she would want to get some… payment for enabling him to play not only with Winston but with Reinhardt as well. For that is what is going to happen. He can feel it in the pit of his stomach. There is really no use to deny what he is here for when he wandered into the room naked and sticky with sweat and cum; Winston’s load still slowly oozing out of his red, abused hole.
A hole that is being displayed now, he realizes as his system calms down from the Whiskey’s intense taste. He finds himself draped across Reinhardt’s broad lap, his head dangling down so the blood rushing to it makes it even harder to formulate a single coherent thought as the old gym leader spreads his cheeks and has a good long look at his sloppy pussy.
Heat rushes through his body. Is he flushing? He must be. Hana is laughing again with just enough of a mean edge to it that he starts wiggling until Reinhardt’s heavy arm across the small of his back completely stops that.
Instead, the glass is held in front of his face again. It’s Hana holding it this time; after all, Reinhardt has his hands quite full with keeping Hanzo nice and secure on his lap and gently fucking two thick fingers into him.
His mouth drops open on a low, throaty groan, legs doing an uncoordinated shuffle. He tries to spread them for Reinhardt and the intrusion of his fingers but he is not sure he really manages that.
Hanzo has never before been so uncoordinated. He feels like some kind of newborn faun. He turns his head away from the glass offered to him. Hana luckily doesn’t push it, so it simply vanishes from his sight while velvety dark splotches start to dance across his vision the deeper Reinhardt fingers him.
He’s done it so effortlessly, too… not a moment of hesitation. Like he’s come here with the exact knowledge that he will fuck Hanzo tonight, no ifs ands or buts.
He did not even ask him whether he wants to or not – though he supposes his reaction is a dead giveaway in any case; the low catty mewl and his attempts to thrust his ass up into the fingering…
He can feel it each time the thick knuckles pop past his rim. It reminds him of that toy Hana had used on him what now feels a million years ago… His back arches every time it happens, nipples tingling with the desperate need for attention.
“You are so loose, my little friend!” Reinhardt exclaims with the cadence of a jolly Santa Claus while deep fingering Hanzo’s pussy. Hanzo bites his knuckle, trying to keep the mewling whines inside without much success. “It seems someone has already had quite a use for you and your generous holes! Mmmhh I can feel the mess they made inside of you.”
Hanzo can imagine as much. He feels the fingers slowly scissoring inside his guts, probably rubbing Winston’s silky cum between them as he unwittingly – or probably very intentionally – keeps pushing into Hanzo’s prostate which keeps him on high alert.
“Yeah! Uncle Winston can come looooaaads if he’s really horny. I think Hanzo left a drip trail from the other room to here.”
“Winston! I see, I see… well then it is no wonder you are this loose, my little friend.”
There’s an odd cadence to Reinhardt’s voice; not… mad, per se, but enough to make Hanzo try and peer behind him. He does not manage the coordination to do so – not by a long shot – but that’s okay, because Reinhardt cryptically says: “Maybe I can help with that,” before… well.
Hanzo hears the slap long before it actually registers to his hot, swollen brain. He does not understand for so long that he and Hana are just staring at each other, her brows lifted in intrigue, waiting for a reaction that is so delayed that it is downright comical.
Finally, Hanzo’s nerves match a sensation to the meaty sound of the slap: his right ass cheek becomes hot and the sting from the impact of Reinhardt’s big palm zings up his spine and lights up some part of his brain.
He must have clenched up around Reinhardt’s fingers because he laughs and says something – and then does it again. This time, Hanzo is much quicker to react. His whole body rocks upon the impact, more out of shock that someone is actually spanking him than from the force with which Reinhardt’s palm hits against his cheek.
He’s not brutal about it. But there is such a calm understanding radiating off of the old man; like he wants to spank Hanzo now so that is what is going to happen, that Hanzo just finds himself… accepting it.
Holding on to Reinhardt’s pants in a death grip, he gasps whenever the hand hits him, insides screwing tight around the fingers lodged inside his guts without moving.
It’s… okay. It is manageable. Until Reinhardt declares that he can’t really work like this – and pulls his fingers out of Hanzo’s hungry, grasping hole so he has more room to work with.
One huge hand places itself in the small of his back; the warmth radiating off of his palm is comforting like a hot water bottle; but it also means that he can keep him nice and still for the next slap to come which spans the width of Hanzo’s ass easily.
The impact jostles through his body, leaving him too stunned to speak. Reinhardt, evidently pausing for a peep out of him, gives him another slap. All in all they are probably not that hard but Hanzo, having never been spanked before even by his own father, feels himself unnecessarily sensitive to it.
Hells, he can feel the second slap even through his hole. As if the swollen, sloppy rim had been directly touched by the giant’s large palm. It is impossible of course but goodness… The feeling ricocheting through Hanzo is so bone deep that he finds himself hugging Reinhardt’s leg simply to have something to hold on to while he is still searching for his own voice.
Hana seems absolutely fascinated by the whole situation. She is sitting on the low coffee table, her hand loosely wrapped around the bottle Reinhardt had pulled out from somewhere, watching as Hanzo gets his ass spanked into a nice prickling pink by the giant.
As he awkwardly tries to jerk… somewhere, he is not quite sure what his body is trying to accomplish, he finds out just how secure Reinhardt has him with that single hand on the small of his back.
He can not budge. He can not pull away from the slow slaps against his ass, nor can he rut his nervously leaking cock against the side of Reinhardt’s leg.
A few slaps in, Reinhardt stops for a moment, his hand on Hanzo’s ass, slowly rubbing a soothing circle into his skin. With a voice much quieter and more intimate than he usually speaks with, he murmurs: “You take your spanking so well… is it your first time getting that lovely little bottom warmed up?”
Hanzo is breathing deep and wet. He feels on the verge of tears though he does not feel upset, per se; he just feels overwhelmed in a surprisingly good way. Like Reinhardt will push more and more on him but will know exactly how much Hanzo can take.
“Your skin is so hot already. I love how spunky today’s youth is. I bet your heart is pumping like a little rabbit in your chest.”
“Don’t stop,” D.Va suddenly pipes up into the short moment of silence. She is leaning back, bracing herself on the table behind her and the other hand slipped beneath her skirt. Hanzo can’t see properly what she is doing but he can hear the slick sounds of her dragging her fingers through her slippery little gash. “I bet you could make him come like that; just from getting spanked. I bet he’s that nasty little boy that gets off on a bit of discipline.”
Reinhardt chuckles. “You mean like you get off on it? I remember the last time I spanked you you squirted so hard you-”
His words are drowned out in yet another spank. Hanzo wanted to know what exactly D.Va had done but the rush of blood to his head has him feel like he’s on the verge of passing out.
It is pulsating in his ears in the same fast rhythm that it is throbbing in his aching ass. He’s never gotten spanked. Never never ever. He can’t even imagine lying over his father’s lap and having him slap his bottom until he felt rueful.
Realizing how much it turns him on now unlocks a whole new kind of fear. As if getting spanked by his father was even remotely still on the table. He’s not exactly thinking clearly.
Winston already fucked him stupid on that big hot dick of his and Reinhardt just seems hellbent on making his brain drip out of his ears in hot, oozing droplets.
Just like his dick is weeping, smearing all the pre-cum into the big man’s pants. He’s too sensitive to rut against his leg and take the friction of the fabric, but that doesn’t mean that his idiot body isn’t humping anyway. Just trying so desperately to reach an orgasm now that Reinhardt has spanked him into a frenzy.
Or so he thinks.
Reinhardt is laughing. His hand swoops down once more, this time not square onto the meatiest part of Hanzo’s ass, though. This time it hits him right at the crease of his prickling cheeks and the tops of his thighs. He is not prepared for the sound that escapes him; an odd gurgling noise as the sensation rushes through his body and pings something in his brain.
Hanzo had never before really thought about that part of his body or how sensitive it might be. He’s never paid attention to it until an old man with a huge, rough hand slapped him. For the longest moment he is stuck in some kind of limbo as his body tries to figure out whether it is about to come hard enough for him to pass out or whether he wants to yowl like a cat and start clawing himself off of Reinhardt’s lap.
In the end, neither happens; though not for lack of trying.
Reinhardt, apparently knowing him as if he’s been doing this to Hanzo for the past thirty years or something, presses his thumb hard into his perineum, cutting off his orgasm that wants to come out so badly that tears are shooting to Hanzo’s eyes and a sob of utter frustration is wrenched out of him.
His attempt at getting away is thwarted just as easily by the other hand still on the small of his back like a vice. Casually keeping him right where he is; bent over Reinhardt’s lap, his ass on display for all to see.
Calm slowly descends upon the room. Hanzo’s heart is pumping so fast that he is getting dizzy from it yet slowly but surely it is calming down a little and the rush of blood in his ears recedes so he can hear the low conversation going on around him.
“Nah, I had no idea. I thought he might like it, ‘cause he’s a whore and spread his legs for every fucking gym leader on the way but I didn’t think he’d go off like a fucking rocket for it.”
“Hana. Language. You know, my sensitive old man ears…”
“Tsk… whatever. What I do know is that we have a little spanking slut on our hands – or you know, lap – and he’s definitely ready for the next bout.”
Reinhardt’s heavy hand leaves the small of Hanzo’s back and brushes over his hair for a moment.
“Are you alright?” he asks with a grandfatherly cadence that has Hanzo feel all kinds of conflicted emotions; especially with him trying to rut out an orgasm against the side of Reinhardt’s leg…
“I think so,” he mutters, tongue barely responsive in his mouth.
Hana gives him a sip to drink – water thankfully – and Reinhardt feels up his prickling ass for a while, palming his cheeks and lightly squeezing them which makes Hanzo get antsy and wiggly until he’s being secured once again with the old man’s hand on his back.
Hanzo stares at the carpet, his whole body buzzing. He can still hear the smacks from before echoing in his ears, his skin feeling tender and too tight for his body.
He expects another slap but what he gets is Reinhardt spreading his cheeks and easily sliding two thick fingers back into him.
“Mmmhh still so loose and sloppy,” he murmurs as Hanzo’s back stiffens for a moment.
The fingers thrust slow and leisurely, scissoring apart to feel just how easy Hanzo’s body gives to him; no resistance whatsoever. He feels like Winston’s cock just made his body capitulate; like his muscles have given up for the night to tighten up again; a part of him probably knowing that tonight he will get used.
Reinhardt twists his fingers around, curling them and – Hanzo can’t help the cattish whine as they press up against his prostate. Tears immediately shoot into his eyes. He blinks rapidly, feeling weepy and oversensitive and like he needs Reinhardt to spread his legs wide and pile drive Hanzo into the floor with that big old man cock of his.
What he gets instead is a few more circles of his prostate before Reinhardt pulls back out, commenting on the mess that Winston has left behind… and then uses the exact same hand to resume spanking Hanzo as if nothing had happened.
The first slap against that same sensitive crease between his thighs and his ass has him reeling and hyper fixating on the wet cool spot that Reinhardt’s fingers have left behind on his heated skin.
The slaps that follow are faster; a constant slap, slap, slap that Reinhardt drags methodically down the backs of Hanzo’s thighs and then up again toward the plumpest part of his ass.
Hanzo, while jerking dramatically with every impact at first, whining as if he is actually getting disciplined, finds himself getting absolutely hypnotized by the whole situation. The hit… hit… hit against him leaving his skin prickling and hot and sensitive.
His body grows tighter with every moment, an orgasm winding itself around his spine and settling in his skull. His cock feels swollen; throbbing and aching like a wound. He wishes Cole were here so he could command him to suck him off while Reinhardt spanks his poor little bottom-
“Your skin is getting so lovely red,” Reinhardt pipes up somewhere above him. His voice sounds a little muffled through the rush of blood in Hanzo’s ears. He feels the old man’s other hand in the wake of the slaps, broad palm gently rubbing over his heated skin while the smacks travel back down.
It’s a welcome counter sensation to the sharp stings, though Hanzo feels like it is too much to handle at times.
His hips keep flexing a little, trying to fuck his cock against Reinhardt’s leg; trying to push out that orgasm that is slowly but surely filling his body like a balloon. He wants Cole here so he can bully him around while he is getting worked over by the old man; kinks being unlocked that he hadn’t known were in him.
He hadn’t thought there still was anything left for him to find out about himself.
When his orgasm comes, though… it is not how he imagined it to go.
Everything goes fast yet drags on like molasses.
The last mighty slap against the meatiest part of his ass still reverberates through his whole body when his cheeks are spread and Reinhardt slides his two fingers back into Hanzo’s body; deep and without a hitch, crooking them to gently press their blunt tips into the wall of Hanzo’s squishy intestines – and his prostate.
He can feel the spark of heat that it elicits. He can feel his body going rigid, then loose like liquid as his orgasm finally snaps and rushes through his body.
His eyes roll up into his head. Someone holds him so he doesn’t slide bonelessly off of Reinhardt’s broad lap as he orgasms for him, easy as that.
The only thing is… he does not come come. His cock twitches and flexes but as if somebody had flipped a switch in his head, he does not pump out hot, thick ribbons of cum. He does not even dribble anymore. It’s the oddest feeling. An orgasm without the instant relief of pressure in his hips. Only more heat and a sensitive, prickling ass that tells him he won’t be able to sit for a few days without thinking about how Reinhardt worked him over.
He feels both relaxed and on edge, cock swinging between his thighs fever hot and heavy with blood. At this point he does not even argue when Hana makes him kiss Reinhardt good-bye so they can move on to the next room.
.oOo.
Mister Ogundimu’s nickname, Doomfist, has not left many option as to what kind of Pokémon he would choose to battle with; yet still Hanzo found himself struggling to the extreme with his line-up of hard hitting fighting Pokémon.
Every shift in his posture had the ache from his buttocks flare up, reminding him of how sweet and obedient he had been for Reinhardt the night before. It is difficult to shake off this submissiveness, but a very aggressive and annoyed roar of Zeus as Hanzo fails to alert him to an attack from the back finally snaps him out of it.
The cool from-up-above stare that Mister Ogundimu throws him at the end of the fight as Zeus slams his body weight down on the Hitmonchan to simply press it to the ground has Hanzo feel like the other knows exactly what he’s been up to during the night.
He refuses to blush.
Hanzo’s winning streak: 2.