Jack grunted as he wiggled in his chair, trying to squeeze his wrists out of the ropes that bound them together, but just when he was starting to dislodge his broad hand from the tight bind the ropes suddenly tightened. Jack gasped at the chafe, goosebumps prickling along his flesh as he suddenly felt warm fingers slid up his restrained forearms.
“Ah ah, sweetheart, can’t have you escaping just yet,” came a voice over his shoulder, warm and acidic as it tickled against the shell of his ear. Jack grunted angrily, trying to catch a glimpse of his captor only to have the back of the chair hoisted effortlessly into the air, spun around, and dropped with a trembling thunk against the ground that the CEO felt in his tailbone.
He gasped in pain, disoriented from the sudden change. His features twitched from the lingering shock vibrating up his spine, eyes narrowing angrily at whoever this jerk was. However, as soon as his vision swam back into focus his jaw dropped, face slack in surprise.
Because the man standing in front of him now wasn’t some kind of bandit warlord, nor any mercenary or vault hunting scum. It wasn’t even someone from another company or a masked assassin.
It was Jack himself.
Commission for @handsomepeacock of Scorpion Jack/Peacock Jack based on this picture! Was really fun to do! 🙂
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In retrospect, Jack had been foolish to think he was the only Jack hybrid out there.
It shouldn’t have been something that slipped his mind, considering how many copies of his DNA had been made over the years. He had a veritable army of lifeless clone bodies, grown from test tubes and corralled together like cows in the slaughterhouse—or maybe more like harvest crops stacked atop one another with nary an inch of breathing room between them.
His DNA was a pretty treasured commodity, naturally, but he also was fairly content with letting R&D play around with it in a controlled environment, morbidly fascinated with the usually feral, malformed creatures with a couple recognizable features that raged about the enclosures, slashing at the ground and snarling until Jack got bored with them and had them shot and butchered for parts. Many hybrids had gone down the tube this way, flesh and blood flushed away from their bones thanks to Jack’s transitory interest.
Whatever. He was the CEO, wasn’t he? The king of Hyperion, the paramount ruler of everything within the claws of his sharp, multi-planetary grasp. With a snap of his fingers he could bring life into the world, and again with another he could call for its gruesome destruction. And with no one to challenge his ultimate authority, he didn’t see any reason to stop this frivolity.
He’d returned to his home after one such visit to R&D, in which he’d been shown the latest abomination that the researchers had come up with. The head of the biological division had been pretty thrilled to show him their latest creation—a mostly successful mutation between Jack’s copied DNA and that of an especially badass kraggon captured from the Outlands Spur. It had certainly been a less offensive gesture than the last creation—seriously, mixing such precious DNA with a shuggarath should have been an obvious flub—and had resulted in something pretty damn intimidating. Almost as intimidating as Jack himself. Almost.
It’d had a huge, lizard-like body with a thick tail that wound about the circumference of the room nearly twice. Its chest had been broader, however, more like that of a human, and its hands bore opposable thumbs. The flesh on most of its body had been craggy and dark grayish-brown, split with pulsating cracks of orange and yellow except for the face, which had most resembled Jack’s aside from the glowing pits for eyes and the horns rising just before its ragged, patchy hairline. A tongue of lava had occasionally licked out over a lipless mouth and mismatched fangs.
It had been impressively beastly. Mount a couple of turrets on its shoulders and mass reproduce it and he’d have a pretty terrifying brigade to send charging into Sanctuary. For once, Jack hadn’t decided to have the creature destroyed and broken down to its most basic parts, instead insisting R&D keep it around and use it as a baseline to clone even more intimidating specimens. Thus, with a spring in his step and the vision of bandits and vault hunters alike being ripped apart by an army of massive craggy beasts bearing his face in his head, Jack had retreated back to his penthouse.
Immediately upon entering, however, Jack froze. His skin tingled, mouth going dry as he suddenly sensed something off about the air in his home. His comb, which had previously been laying slicked back against his hair, suddenly sprung up in alarm. His tail stiffened, fanning out behind him as he glanced about, body tensing in defense as he squinted against the darkness.
Goosebumps prickled along his arms, and his eyes widened as he noticed his breath warming in mist in front of his lips. What?
His eyes flickered over to the digital thermostat on the wall, his throat tightening as he saw the depressed temperature. Only 10 C? 10 C? He had the best thermoregulatory system on the entire space station, in this entire arm of the galaxy. There was no way that it would fail this spectacularly unless someone tampered with it.
His fingers prickled on the hilt of his gun, eyes browsing over the darkness in his penthouse, wondering if it would be better or worse deal with whatever threat was hiding there with the lights off or on. Quiet permeated the space, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was busy kicking into overdrive. Jack shivered, feeling cruelly cold to his core. The frigid temperature was distracting, messing with his brain as he drew the gun out of its holster, pointing it blindly into the darkness, ready to shoot anything that dared to move.
Paranoia wound up the column of his spine, his entire body tensed. His teeth clattered together, the bitter cold penetrating deep to the pit of his stomach. He could feel the skin around his eyes tighten as they bugged out, his breathing coming so fast and misty it began to fog his vision.
He had no time to even jump as he felt hot breath impossibly ghost against his ear before something firm and tight clasped over his mouth and he blacked out.
Jack woke up slowly, to the sound of music.
Not that Jack first identified it as music, more like a rhythmic pounding in his head, managing to sync up exactly with the throbbing pain stuffing up his sinuses. He sniffled roughly, as if trying to clear it, only to finally realize it was the bass of the music surrounding him. His eyelids fluttered, the insides of them a vibrant red, throbbing with lights blinking and flashing from outside them. A moan sprung to his lips, the lights stabbing into his eyes as he struggled to open them.
He had no idea where the fuck he was. It appeared to be some kind of room, with no doors nor windows that he could see from his position. The walls were entirely wreathed in dark red curtains from floor to ceiling, completely still and heavy despite the pounding of music and the movement he felt in the air around him.
“What the hell?” Jack growled, arms tugging against the restraints keeping them behind his back. He craned his neck, trying to look around and find some kind of landmark or visual cue that could tell him where he was. But he saw nothing but the same rusty-red curtains draped ceiling to floor all around him, the fabric swaying softly, almost dreamlike, which did a lot to disquiet the CEO further. He felt his comb on his head bristle, feathers starting to stand up in suspicion of the situation.
Jack grunted as he wiggled in his chair, trying to squeeze his wrists out of the ropes that bound them together, but just when he was starting to dislodge his broad hand from the tight bind the ropes suddenly tightened. Jack gasped at the chafe, goosebumps prickling along his flesh as he suddenly felt warm fingers slid up his restrained forearms.
“Ah ah, sweetheart, can’t have you escaping just yet,” came a voice over his shoulder, warm and acidic as it tickled against the shell of his ear. Jack grunted angrily, trying to catch a glimpse of his captor only to have the back of the chair hoisted effortlessly into the air, spun around, and dropped with a trembling thunk against the ground that the CEO felt in his tailbone.
He gasped in pain, disoriented from the sudden change. His features twitched from the lingering shock vibrating up his spine, eyes narrowing angrily at whoever this jerk was. However, as soon as his vision swam back into focus his jaw dropped, face slack in surprise.
Because the man standing in front of him now wasn’t some kind of bandit warlord, nor any mercenary or vault hunting scum. It wasn’t even someone from another company or a masked assassin.
It was Jack himself.
Well…at least somewhat.
The man in front of him definitely resembled him in certain aspects. He had the same broad, muscular body and the same prominently sculpted face, the same side-swept fringe and mismatched eyes, but there the similarities ended.
There was no pale mask bolted to his face, and his scar had shrunk from the massive mark burnt into his own face to something light and silvery on this other Jack. He was dressed differently from Jack’s incongruous layers, instead clad in a slick leather jacket, ratty jeans and boots like some kind of movie hoodlum. But clothes and skin were far from the most striking differences between this guy standing in front of him and Jack himself, and it drew his attention suddenly as it skittered and scraped along the floor before flipping up to arch over the man’s back, glistening in the changeable light.
It was a scorpion’s tail.
Unease crept through Jack’s stomach, eyes fixed on the sleek carapace of the tail as its slick black stinger curved cruelly above the man’s shoulder, nearly tickling the side of his throat, which—Jack could see now—was also emblazoned with a scorpion tattoo that presumably curled around the back of his neck.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jack growled, kicking his feet against the floor as he tried to scoot away from the approaching man, “what the hell is this?”
The scorpion’s grin only grew, and if Jack didn’t know better he would’ve sworn that those already scary fangs had grown thicker and longer, yellow-white tips curling slightly over his lower lip.
“I think you already know what this is Jack.”
“Oh yeah, right, I totally get kidnapped by some freaky mutant me and stuck in some sex dungeon, it’s just a normal Tuesday for me,” Jack snapped, his eyes fixed steadily on the scorpion, as if the intensity of his gaze would keep the man at bay. He wracked his brain, trying to put the pieces together about the scene before him.
“Was…was this Nakawaka’s fault? Did he…crap, did he mess around with my DNA behind my back? Creepy freakin’ weirdo, next time I see him I’m gonna screw his head back on so hard it’s gonna pop off,” Jack snarled, bucking against the silk ropes binding him tight against the chair. The other hybrid snorted, showing off more of those long, hooked fangs that made Jack tingle in his stomach, despite how much he tried to ignore it.
“You’re really trying too hard to make sense of this…if you’re looking for a step-by-step explanation, Jack, I’m pretty sure you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Hey! I didn’t come here,” Jack corrected, “you kidnapped me here. You screwed with my thermostat so it would fuck with my—how the hell did you even know that anyway!”
The peacock was almost shouting at this point, pissed at the nonchalance of the scorpion, who acted as if Jack was a worthless insect instead of the imposing, badass hero that he really was.
The scorpion continued to ignore his questions as he sauntered forward towards the helplessly bound peacock. Jack gritted his teeth, a small growl brewing from his chest as he tried his best to appear intimidating, but to no avail. The scorpion bent down next to him, bracing his broad hand against his thigh as he leered in close, face mere inches from Jack’s own.
“You’re such a pretty little birdie, aren’t you?” The scorpion cooed, hand smoothing Jack’s comb back against his head, even as it bristled back up. The CEO’s lip twitched, head tossing against the palm petting him.
“Watch it. Watch it! Keep your hands offa me!” Jack jerked away, only for the scorpion’s hand to follow. Jack yelped at a sudden, sharp pain in his scalp, horror and anger filling his gut as a pair of clawed fingers brought a single feather down between his eyes, its stem tipped with blood.
“You….you son of a bitch!” Jack snarled, teeth snapping at the scorpion’s fingers as laughter rung through his ears.
“Super pretty. Aw, but don’t worry, they’ll grow back,” the scorpion twirled the feather deftly between his fingers, before tucking it behind his ear, turning his head from side to side as if to admire how it looked.
“D-Doesn’t mean you have to….frikkin’ rip it outta my skull,” Jack whined, trying to turn his face away when the scorpion leaned in even closer. Like this, he could see the sharp liner elongating the scorpion’s eyes, lids dusted with a bronze glow that fluttered underneath the warm lights. Jack tried to keep them apart, but clawed fingers seized his chin, yanking it back and crushing lips against Jack’s own.
The kiss was a violent clash of identity, unwilling prey struggling against predator as Jack’s tongue fought off the invading scorpion’s, pushing back against the strong jaw driving to consume him. His growl came out to a groan much to his horror as the scorpion’s tongue shoved up even harder against his own, pushing it towards the back of his throat as he was kissed without mercy.
Jack’s relief at the scorpion pulling away was cut short as the man dug and dragged his fangs into his lower lip. He felt the warmth of his flesh popping underneath the the teeth, a strangled croak dragging out of his throat as he yanked away from the scorpion’s mouth.
“D-Don’t bite me, you sick jerk…you tryin’ to frikkin’….poison me or something…” Jack complained, sticking out his now bleeding lower lip. The scorpion laughed, pushing close again and licking roughly over the two ragged pinpricks in the slick flesh.
“Poison you….you really are paranoid, aren’t you?”
“Hah, s’what helped me live this long.”
“Considering how stupid it makes you sometimes, I’m kind of surprised,” the scorpion snickered, licking over his fangs, “for the record, my fangs can’t poison you. If I wanted you killed, I would have already put my stinger through your heart.”
On cue, the scorpion’s tail curls under his armpit, its bulbous stinger glistening with threat as he cradled it. Jack’s eyes fixed on the needle-sharp tip, following it as it twitched in the air before him.
“K….keep that thing away from me…” Jack murmured, palms growing sweaty in his bonds, the indigo feathers on his neck bristling in an aggressive wave as the stinger inched closer, the scorpion’s grin creeping wider.
“Oh, I won’t hurt you, we still have a lot of fun in store.”
Thankfully, the stinger retreated from its threatening position, coming to rest back behind the scorpion, but Jack’s anxiety failed to fade as the man got on his knees before him. Hands pressed against his legs, holding him down against the chair as he flinched instinctively.
“What are you doing?” Jack snapped, trying to press his thighs together against the black claws scratching along the fabric of his jeans. He fought against the hybrid as he wedged his fingers in between Jack’s legs, slowly prying them apart. Jack growled, sure he wasn’t going to like where this way going. He even built up saliva in his mouth and spat downwards onto the scorpion’s face, hoping that it would cause enough of a distraction to gain the upper hand against the handsy hybrid. Unfortunately, the filthy look that the other Jack sent him as he looked up, saliva dripping down his chiseled cheek, told him it’d been in vain.
“I’m not one of your fanboys, Jackie, that’s not gonna impress me.” The scorpion dragged his thumb through the glob of spit running down the side of his face, even having the gall to wipe it off on Jack’s own jeans to the peacock’s wide-eyed anger. He patted Jack’s crotch and hummed.
“Lets hope this doesn’t disappoint.”
Jack tried to buck his hips as the scorpion’s clawed hands deftly undo his belt, unzipping his pants and tugging them halfway down Jack’s thighs by the time the first angry shout had left the peacock’s lips. Jack’s heels ground into the floor stubbornly as his pants were yanked down his legs, leaving them to pool around where his ankles were bound to the pegs of the chair.
The scorpion whistled, tilting his head as he looked down on Jack’s cock, still sheathed in his golden boxers.
“Looks promising. But I’m not going to give you what you want right away…”
“What I want,” Jack mocked, “what I want is to be let outta here.”
“Oh, sure, that’s what you say you want. But you and I both know that that’s not what you’re really looking for. After all, we’re the same person.”
“As if. You’re nothing like me, bugs-for-brains,”
“But I know what you like. And what you like is…you.”
The scorpion rose, remaining close to Jack as he began to strip off his clothes. The leather jacket came off first, whirling around in the scorpion’s fist for a moment before being tossed aside. The familiar yellow sweater comes next, the fabric peeling off of his stout stomach and broad pecs, revealing more and more tanned skin, marred with far less scars than Jack’s own body. A sleeve of tattoos crawled up the scorpion’s right arm, slightly faded skulls and bloody hearts and even unmistakeable peacock feathers mingling together up and down the terrain of his muscles.
The scorpion twirled about slowly, giving Jack the full turnaround view of his body. He rested his hands on his hips, at the horizon where his charcoal jeans met his tan flesh, feet tapping slightly to the fuzzy beat of the music.
“You’re staring.” The scorpion licked his fangs, pressing his palm just below his sternum and trailing it down until the tips of his fingers brush up against the waistband of his pants. He plays idly with the shiny bronze button, popping it open with a flick. His hips start to sway back and forth, gradually moving in a wide circle as he trails both hands back up his body, lingering on his chest for a moment before he stretches them high over his head. His abs bulge out against his belly as he started to dance, moving and billowing to the music.
Jack’s eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden strip tease. It was bizarre, watching his own tanned, muscular body on display, rocking its hips and undulating its spine in a dance that was both clumsy and undeniably erotic. His eyes followed the roll of the other hybrid’s body, dancing down to the glistening, segmented tail that curled and snapped along with his movement.
“You like this?” The scorpion purred as he straddled Jack’s lap, grinding their crotches together. He ran his hand through Jack’s hair as he balanced himself on the CEO’s thighs, fingers brushing up against the remaining stems of Jack’s comb, which bristled fearfully. The scorpion smirked, rocking his hips as his tail curled around his waist, deadly stinger again trailing under his shirt and up the bare skin of Jack’s pec. The CEO’s chest twitched, nipple suddenly standing stiff and pink as the spine tickled around the sensitive skin.
“Calm down, pumpkin, I wouldn’t sting you…there’s still a lot more we have to do together.” The scorpion pulled away his tail, quickly twitching it back around to hover arched towards his spine. Jack’s pulse beat frantically in his chest, heightened both by the cock pressing against his own and the ghost of the stinger trailing over his heart.
“My, are you worked up there, Mr. CEO? Do you need a little help out down here?” The scorpion snickered, pointing a clawed finger coyly down at the tent in Jack’s underwear. The peacock hissed, squirming in his seat as he tried to press himself into the back of the chair to get as far away from the scorpion as he could muster. He hated feeling like this, feeling helpless, feeling like—prey.
“S-Screw you—“ Jack stammered between his clenched teeth, glaring hot knives into the scorpion as his protests were ignored. The other man’s hand came to rest against the bulge in his pants, sending annoyed prickles of heat out from Jack’s belly down to his bound extremities.
“Oh, we’ll get to that, pumpkin, believe me. This is just the warm up act.” The scorpion’s hand tightened around the burgeoning tent Jack was sporting, giving the man’s length a simple squeeze that nonetheless had Jack reeling with a litany of barely-censored cursing.
“There’s no need to keep it PG, Jackie, not around me,” the scorpion purred as his hand smoothed the thin, silky fabric of Jack’s boxers around the sculpted shape of his cock, finger rubbing over the damp spot starting to darken there.
“You can say fuck if you want. Go on. Say it. Say it, because it’s what’s going to happen to you,” the scorpion hummed against Jack’s cock, his thumb rubbing in ellipses against the shaft.
“Nnnh…you…you can’t tell me what to do, you prick,” Jack snapped, shivering despite himself. The hand on his cock felt good, even as he gritted his teeth and tried to disregard the pleasure, not wanting to give the scorpion the satisfaction. But he couldn’t resist much longer, especially not when his briefs were pulled down, cock springing up against his belly. The scorpion wrapped his hand around the base of the cock, giving it a short, testing stroke. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed as he glared down at the man, a tight breath tumbling from his lips as the scorpion licked a long hot stripe up the shaft of his dick.
“S-Screw you…” Jack choked out as the scorpion continued to kiss and lick up and down his dick, eventually swallowing the tip and suckling on it as if it were the sticky tip of a popsicle. His hissed breaths through his teeth, the toes of his shoes pressing harder into the floor as his body wound in unwelcome arousal. The scorpion kept his gaze on Jack from under the hood of his sparkly eyelids, making the CEO feel too open and on display for his comfort. He tossed his head back, chin tipping upwards as the scorpion pushed the head of his cock all the way into his mouth, lips sucking around his shaft as he took Jack in all the way to the twitching base of his balls. Jack creaked his eyes open slightly as the red light above him started to flicker, raining patches of darkness down upon them before the light cut out completely, bathing the entire room in a deep, ultraviolet glow.
“W-What….what’s happening now?” Jack rasped through the rough drag of his arousal, lolling his head back to look down, only to see that the man before him had practically disappeared. The tan flesh and silvery scars had been lost in the sudden swallow of the dark, leaving only bright, neon blue marks and designs that glowed from the shifting black. Curling, barbed designs rippled on the scorpion’s muscles like moonlight glistening on the waves of the ocean, or solar flares curling off into the void of space.
Even the bastard’s tongue was luminous, glowing blue appendage lapping and curling over his member and drooling faintly glowing saliva all over the shaft as he fixed Jack with a floating, fluorescent stare.
Jack felt adrift, tied only by the burning rub of the ropes against his bare wrists as the warm mouth and the disorienting pattern of glowing shapes and eyes and tongue dropped him into a dreamy state jostled with pleasure. A groan left his lips as resistance and shame steadily drained out of him, sucked from his body like poison as the scorpion enveloped his cock in warm, tight squeeze.
“Ahh—I—“
He rutted his hips up, frantically starting to hump the other man’s mouth, focusing solely on the pleasurable feeling starting to swell in his groan.
“I—please, I—“
His core felt unbearably warm, guts clenching tightly. The scorpion’s mouth continued to pulse and lap against his cock, bringing him close to the very edge of his arousal.
“I—“
He felt something sharp prick suddenly prick against his cock, those curved, glowing fangs pressing into the tender shaft.
“Fuck!!”
Jack screamed as his body arched as much as it could, cock exploding with arousal as he filled the scorpion’s mouth with burning hot cum. The man’s hand continued to pump and squeeze around his shaft, milking him as he shot an unthinkably long load down his throat. Jack gasped as his orgasm stretched on and on, longer than any he’d ever had before. It seemed impossible and utterly drained him, body falling completely boneless and exhausted against the chair. His head lolled back, throat rough from panting as he felt the warm mouth pop sloppily off of his cock.
Jack’s consciousness swam in the haze of pleasure, dizzying him as he felt his body melt into the chair, the scintillating eyes of the scorpion fixing upon him as they rose up, glowing teeth grinning as the neon blue dripped away, gradually fading as the peacock blacked out completely.
The first think Jack noticed when he woke back up was that his arms were no longer bound.
For a moment, he flailed about in the darkness, on alert for the other man that had been touching him, that had kidnapped him, and when his fist clocked into something solid he fell upon it, wrapping both hands tight about it until he realized he had cool steel underneath his palms rather than throbbing flesh. He blinked in the darkness, trying to calm his breath as he carefully brushed his hands over the object in his palms, eventually finding and pressing the little plastic switch at the base of his nightstand lamp, which quickly flooded his penthouse bedroom in light.
He immediately dropped the lamp, standing up on his knees in bed as he pressed himself flat back against the headboard, eyes sweeping about the room for any signs of the scorpion, any suspicious looking shadows or traitorous noises. His heart hammered in his chest as he realized his clothes were perfect and undisturbed, cock tucked back into his jeans and absent of any uncomfortable, drying residue. He pulled open his waistband just to check, but crotch was clean of any old crusty cum or glowing insect saliva.
He flopped back against the pillows, brows furrowing in confusion. He tried to recall the details of what had happened to him, but they suddenly seemed far away and dreamlike, specifics starting to blend together until all he really remembered where the feelings. The tightly wound arousal. The pleasure.
The fear of being prey.
Jack shivered, despite the warmth circulating from his bedroom vents. After a moment, he grabbed his ECHO from where it was still sheathed in his pocket, quickly messaging R&D and putting the Handsome Jack Hybridization Program on hold.
TheSpaceCoyote 