when I’m inspired I guess I write none of the things I’m supposed to on my long-ass to-do list and instead do random things

anyway here is Jack trying to throat-fuck Rhys as punishment but turns out Rhys really enjoys pain and rough treatment. Check and mate, Jack.

Handsome Jack expected what he thought was a reasonable about of respect from his underlings.

Considering the entire galaxy, in his opinion, technically fell under the category of “underlings,” sometimes this didn’t work out as well as he hoped. But all those unfortunate misunderstandings could easily be resolved with a bullet to the head or a twist of the neck, so it wasn’t often he faced lasting indignities at the hands of morons and miscreants who didn’t what was good for him.

But the last place he expected embarrassment was within the very walls of Helios, at a gala hosted in his honor, during a speech being mad by someone handpicked as one of his biggest fans.

Sure, Jack knew the kid probably hadn’t meant it. His employee profile indicated no treacherous leanings and an absolute fealty towards the king of Hyperion. He’d probably just been nervous, and if he’d flubbed anything else Jack probably would have been able to let it slide, but then the kid had gone and screwed up his god-damn name while he was introducing him to speak next.

Handsome Jim. Really. Handsome frikkin’ Jim?

For crying out loud, his name was plastered all over everything Hyperion alongside his face. Every damn inch of Helios reminded those working there that Jack was their master, and this little twerp had gone ahead and bastardized it in front of employees, shareholders, and interplanetary dignitaries alike.

The slight to his beloved moniker would not stand. No one humiliated Handsome Jack, not even a little, or on accident. This kid was lucky Jack wasn’t in a violent mood, or else he’d been snatched off the stage jettisoned out into space right then and there. Gala be damned.

But when Jack wasn’t violent, he was horny, and with the event effectively ruined by his sour mood, he ended up dragging the unfortunate young man back behind the stage and into the dressing room, where he’d bolted the door and forced him down to his knees. He’d expected more of a struggle, but aside from the shocked look on the young man’s face as his blown-wide eyes stared up at Jack, he didn’t attempt to escape. Not even when Jack sunk down into the chair and immediately unzipped his fly, large hand soon cradling his cock in its palm.

It was the same chair where, only a little while ago, the hair and makeup team had fawned and preened him over until he’d looked absolutely perfect for his appearance onstage. And now, all that work, all those hours of effort, had gone down the drain thanks to this—Rhys, he identified quickly from the tag on the young man’s vest.

“So, Rhys,” Jack growled, stroking his hand up and down the length of his cock to emphasize how huge it was. “You think it’s funny to embarrass me in front of that whole audience, huh?”

“Funny…?” Rhys trailed off, his eyes focused on Jack’s cock, as if hypnotized by a large, meaty snake. The lack of coherent response mildly irritates the older man, but Rhys’ transfixion on his cock quickly has him smirking.

“Maybe you’ll be a little more talkative after a ram ol’ Jack Jr. down your throat, huh? Though not likely.” He reached forward to roughly grab Rhys by the hair, forcing the young man’s face to rub up against his cock. The little, wet gasp that Rhys let out ghost across his shaft and had his balls tingling with anticipation.

“Wider.” Jack commanded, and when Rhys hesitates slightly, still in that fugue from before, Jack’s other claps his cheek, thumb probing through Rhys’ lips and hooking against his cheek to pull his mouth open. With the hand fisted in Rhys’ hair he forced his lips around the head of his cock, hips immediately thrusting up and forward to ram it against the back of Rhys’ throat.

The sudden spasm of mouth and tongue as Rhys choked sendt bolts of pleasure into Jack’s loins. A little bit of saliva splashed out from the young man’s lips, flecking down his chin as Jack trie to set a proper, violent pace.

He occasionally jerked himself into Rhys’ throat, and though he gagged a little at first, in time his muscles relaxed and he relented to the ceaseless thrust of Jack’s cock. The CEO could feel sweat starting to build underneath his clothes, his own arousal winding tighter thanks to the fluttering throat and lolling tongue cradling his cock from his shaft all the way down to his leaking head. He knitted his fingers tighter into Rhys’ hair, yanking the locks out of its professionally slicked-back style. Jack tipped his head back with a grunt, closing his eyes to enjoy the warm, wet pleasure for a couple gleeful moments before he tipped his chin down. He’d hoped to find Rhys’ face contorted in pain and fear, yet when he looked between his legs his eyebrows creased together in slight frustration.

This was supposed to be punishment for Rhys’ screwup, and yet despite the tears gathering in the kid’s red-rimmed eyes his expression was not devoid of pleasure. His cheeks flushed a healthy, bright pink hue, and occasionally the corners of his lips picked up in a mindless smile as Jack’s cock rutted forward into his throat. Even as the shaft of his cock roughly abraded against the slick muscle in an attempt to genuinely hurt Rhys, the kid didn’t fight him, didn’t try to bite or struggle or pull off.

Jack wondered if the kid had any survival instinct at all, or if he’d be willing to let Jack ruthlessly throat-fuck him to death. A morbid curiosity briefly flashed through Jack’s mind, but the kid was such a good, warm little hole that it might be a waste to just choke him ’til he stopped breathing.

Rhys continued to suck Jack’s cock like it was some delicious sweet, even as it rammed into his throat and dragged back against his tongue over and over again. Soon, Jack’s focus on punishing the young man faltered and he started rutting at a more natural pace, chasing his building arousal within Rhys’ hot mouth.

“You know…maybe I should’ve airlocked you…” Jack growled, voice trying for harshness even as his toes curled pleasantly in his sneakers. “Then again…mouth like yours could be pretty useful…long as you’re not frikkin’ speaking.”

Rhys actually nodded slightly, his half-lidded eyes opening wider to gaze up at Jack, and shit that hazy, almost slavish look in the young man’s eyes got the arousal coiled in his belly twisting to the brink of unbearable, and with a final, coy flick against the underside of Jack’s cock the CEO thrust forward and yanked Rhys’ hair at the same time, burying one last brutal thrust down Rhys’ throat as his cock seized with orgasm. Jack felt the warmth of his own cock splash against the tight walls of Rhys’ throat, most of it dripping back out over the young man’s tongue and lips as Jack pulled the sloppy mouth off the head of his cock with a lewd pop.

Jack finally released Rhys’ hair, his hand dropping to his own knee as he flopped back into his chair, chest rising and falling as he sought to regain control of his breath. He felt Rhys rest his head against his leg, feeling the boy’s own breath slowly calm against the fabric of his pants.

“You…” Jack started after he’d properly come down. One, beautifully crystal-blue eye peered up at him from below as he thought of what to say next.

“You really kind of…enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He finally asked, though the answer was obvious. Despite his best efforts to punish the kid out of anger, Rhys had kept pace with him, enjoyed the rough treatment and practically demanded more. Despite himself, Jack felt almost impressed.

“Well…any Handsome Jack fan worth his salt would do it…regardless of circumstances…” Rhys breath heaved, voice hoarse. But his lips still flickered in a smile, even as they dripped with cum. Jack couldn’t help his own breathless grin as he leaned forward, ruffling Rhys’ hair like a dog’s.

“See you finally got the name right…suppose that means you learned your lesson.”

Rhys closed his eyes, leaning into Jack’s touch even as he relaxed against the CEO’s lap.

“…And how.”

Or Rhysothy or Rhackothy with Size Difference, Xeno, and Ovi? If you’d like.

thethespacecoyote:

just a short one, most of its under the cut :0

It wasn’t often that prey as delicious as this so readily fell into their claws.

Usually Tim and Jack had to make do with tearing apart stringy rakk meat in order to fuel their craggy, hulking bodies, and though that did enough to keep their strength up, they had other needs left regrettably left unattended by the screeching, feral prey that most often strayed into their territory.

To say Jack was getting pretty fed up with having to endure his breeding cycle alone was an understatement. He was damn sick of the burning clench through his loins every month, the whole ordeal fruitless and annoying with nothing to plug his cock into—and Tim couldn’t help, not with those instinctive barriers rendering him completely unappealing, even as he thrashed and moaned through his own painful cycle.

But all that changed one evening when Tim, burnt out from the empty pleasure, galloped out into the thicket of jungle surrounding their lair, and returned with a human struggling and swinging from his claws.

Keep reading

kink bingo: can i get uhh…. one large rhackothy with public and humiliation and a side order of daddy kink

thethespacecoyote:

here ya go friend ;0

“So, is anyone gonna ask me about my new pets?”

The board members shuffled uncomfortably, nary a cough heard in the ensuing silence. Most of them, in fact, had been trying hard to ignore the fact that Jack’s imposing chair at the head of the table had been flanked by two crouched, naked men since the CEO had first led them into the room on leashes and collars like it was part of his normal routine.

They’d learned long ago it was best not to question Jack’s eccentricities, but considering he was directly asking them to address it, it left them in a bit of a quandary. The glanced at each other furtively as Jack watched, lips curled in a devious smile as he awaited a response.

“How….how did you get them, Handsome Jack sir?” the PR director finally piped up, voice small and ready as he tried to clear it. The whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief, undercut slightly as Jack yanked the leashes of both of the men and whistled sharply and made them both stand up, giving the board members a full view of naked genitals, tight collars and bruised, bitten skin. Awkward coughs and murmurs rumbled across the table, eyes alternating between looking pointedly away and inevitably drawing to the two attractive men forced to stand nude in front of the entire Hyperion board of directors.

“Now there’s a story.” Jack leaned back, voice almost wistful as he gazed with debauched fondness between his two pets. He looped the ends of the leashes around the arms of his chair, tying them tightly, though neither men made any attempt to move, their arms crossed and trembling behind their backs.

“You know me, kiddos, I don’t like it when my orders get disobeyed. Not just disobeyed, actually, but spat on and thrown back into my face like I was some kind of brainless idiot.”

One of the pets—the tanned one that looked like a younger version of Jack—swallowed roughly, the bob in his throat visible from even the other end of the table. The other—slighter, taller, and splashed all over with blue tattoos like an art piece—flushed deep down to his chest and looked down, eyes full of shame.

“So, you can imagine how unhappy I’d be to find someone touching something that was mine without permission, when I’d explicitly told them not to, huh?” Jack’s already malicious smile edged into a proper snarl as he leaned forward into his chair, scooting it closer on its wheels as his broad hands smacked harshly into the rears of his two pets. The tanned one bit his lip in a grunt, but the other couldn’t help the pained cry that came tumbling from his mouth as he stumbled at the slap. Jack kept his hands on their asses, massaging them like clay.

“So I figure I was owed an apology. But a corny lil’ ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t good enough for Handsome Jack, wouldn’t you kids agree? He deserves a little more than that for such a transgression, huh?”

The board members balked, unsure if Jack was talking to them or to the two men, whose situation seemed the apparent result of a terrifying personal grudge. They wisely kept their mouths shut as Jack violently pinched his pet’s rears, finally drawing a muffled yelp from the tanned one.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” they replied in tandem, voices husky and tight from shame. Jack grinned gleefully, sitting at the edge of his chair as his arms wound around the waists, elbows crooked at their hips.

“See? I’m not a monster. You’ll always get at least one chance to properly apologize,” Jack snickered as his broad hands rubbed down their crotches, brushing through the prickle of shaved pubes as he started to play with their cocks. Jack grunted happily as he felt them start to stir, leaning back abruptly and dragging the two pets with them, forcing them to sit splayed on the arms of his chair as he continued to play with their cocks. The board members that were watching gaped, crossing their legs beneath the table at the uncomfortable arousal.

“Well? Meeting’s not over yet, kids. Don’t pay any mind to me. Just gonna milk my apology for all it’s worth,” Jack laughed nastily as he squeezed and stroked his pets’ cocks, far more occupied with them than the unfortunate director that had to follow up that sordid presentation.

For the Valentine bingo: Rhack with Size Difference!

thethespacecoyote:

shit okay this is probably not what you wanted but i love shadowfearart’s design of troll!Jack and I just needed to do something with it

Some bonus intercrural because there is never enough, man. Also a dubcon warning for this one.

Rhys should have just let the monster be.

As tempting as the jewelry decorating the sleeping troll’s body had been, he should have just continued on his way. But his greed and curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he’d climbed the monster’s body and tried to carefully dislodge a precious jewel embedded in its belly button.

But not carefully enough.

And now, he was being held in the monster’s grasp, the nasty unkempt claws dragging all over his body, the troll examining him with greedy eyes as he held Rhys up to his face. A face that could have been handsome, but marred by grotesque features—fangs poking out from underneath his lips, ears long and pointed, skin deep green and scarred in places.

“My my, such a pretty little snack.” The troll’s noxious breath blasted over his face as he cackled. Rhys cringed, the smell of rancid meat and mead invading his nose and turning his stomach. There was a piece of something—or someone, caught between the troll’s teeth, his obsidian canine glittering against its yellowed neighbors.

“Jack loves little morsels like you who think they can steal from him.”

“I—I wasn’t stealing,” Rhys defended feebly, “I thought you were a hill, I was just trying to climb over you, I swear!”

“Is that so? Well, then I’m gonna eat ya for waking me up from my nap, kiddo,” The troll—Jack—rumbled, tickling one gross claw underneath Rhys’ chin, tipping it upwards.

“Though….you are a pretty boy, aren’t you? Jack likes when they’re pretty.”

The troll’s face twisted with a sharp, lecherous grin, his mismatched eyes shining. The claw trailed down Rhys’ throat, pricking at the collar of his shirt and slicing it open around the top button.

Fear struck cold into Rhys’ heart. He grabbed at the trolls fingers, weakly trying to pry them loose as Jack stroked down his body with new intention.

Keep reading

kink bingo: can i get uhh…. one large rhackothy with public and humiliation and a side order of daddy kink

here ya go friend ;0

“So, is anyone gonna ask me about my new pets?”

The board members shuffled uncomfortably, nary a cough heard in the ensuing silence. Most of them, in fact, had been trying hard to ignore the fact that Jack’s imposing chair at the head of the table had been flanked by two crouched, naked men since the CEO had first led them into the room on leashes and collars like it was part of his normal routine.

They’d learned long ago it was best not to question Jack’s eccentricities, but considering he was directly asking them to address it, it left them in a bit of a quandary. The glanced at each other furtively as Jack watched, lips curled in a devious smile as he awaited a response.

“How….how did you get them, Handsome Jack sir?” the PR director finally piped up, voice small and ready as he tried to clear it. The whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief, undercut slightly as Jack yanked the leashes of both of the men and whistled sharply and made them both stand up, giving the board members a full view of naked genitals, tight collars and bruised, bitten skin. Awkward coughs and murmurs rumbled across the table, eyes alternating between looking pointedly away and inevitably drawing to the two attractive men forced to stand nude in front of the entire Hyperion board of directors.

“Now there’s a story.” Jack leaned back, voice almost wistful as he gazed with debauched fondness between his two pets. He looped the ends of the leashes around the arms of his chair, tying them tightly, though neither men made any attempt to move, their arms crossed and trembling behind their backs.

“You know me, kiddos, I don’t like it when my orders get disobeyed. Not just disobeyed, actually, but spat on and thrown back into my face like I was some kind of brainless idiot.”

One of the pets—the tanned one that looked like a younger version of Jack—swallowed roughly, the bob in his throat visible from even the other end of the table. The other—slighter, taller, and splashed all over with blue tattoos like an art piece—flushed deep down to his chest and looked down, eyes full of shame.

“So, you can imagine how unhappy I’d be to find someone touching something that was mine without permission, when I’d explicitly told them not to, huh?” Jack’s already malicious smile edged into a proper snarl as he leaned forward into his chair, scooting it closer on its wheels as his broad hands smacked harshly into the rears of his two pets. The tanned one bit his lip in a grunt, but the other couldn’t help the pained cry that came tumbling from his mouth as he stumbled at the slap. Jack kept his hands on their asses, massaging them like clay.

“So I figure I was owed an apology. But a corny lil’ ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t good enough for Handsome Jack, wouldn’t you kids agree? He deserves a little more than that for such a transgression, huh?”

The board members balked, unsure if Jack was talking to them or to the two men, whose situation seemed the apparent result of a terrifying personal grudge. They wisely kept their mouths shut as Jack violently pinched his pet’s rears, finally drawing a muffled yelp from the tanned one.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” they replied in tandem, voices husky and tight from shame. Jack grinned gleefully, sitting at the edge of his chair as his arms wound around the waists, elbows crooked at their hips.

“See? I’m not a monster. You’ll always get at least one chance to properly apologize,” Jack snickered as his broad hands rubbed down their crotches, brushing through the prickle of shaved pubes as he started to play with their cocks. Jack grunted happily as he felt them start to stir, leaning back abruptly and dragging the two pets with them, forcing them to sit splayed on the arms of his chair as he continued to play with their cocks. The board members that were watching gaped, crossing their legs beneath the table at the uncomfortable arousal.

“Well? Meeting’s not over yet, kids. Don’t pay any mind to me. Just gonna milk my apology for all it’s worth,” Jack laughed nastily as he squeezed and stroked his pets’ cocks, far more occupied with them than the unfortunate director that had to follow up that sordid presentation.

For the Valentine bingo: Rhack with Size Difference!

shit okay this is probably not what you wanted but i love shadowfearart’s design of troll!Jack and I just needed to do something with it

Some bonus intercrural because there is never enough, man. Also a dubcon warning for this one.

Rhys should have just let the monster be.

As tempting as the jewelry decorating the sleeping troll’s body had been, he should have just continued on his way. But his greed and curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he’d climbed the monster’s body and tried to carefully dislodge a precious jewel embedded in its belly button.

But not carefully enough.

And now, he was being held in the monster’s grasp, the nasty unkempt claws dragging all over his body, the troll examining him with greedy eyes as he held Rhys up to his face. A face that could have been handsome, but marred by grotesque features—fangs poking out from underneath his lips, ears long and pointed, skin deep green and scarred in places.

“My my, such a pretty little snack.” The troll’s noxious breath blasted over his face as he cackled. Rhys cringed, the smell of rancid meat and mead invading his nose and turning his stomach. There was a piece of something—or someone, caught between the troll’s teeth, his obsidian canine glittering against its yellowed neighbors.

“Jack loves little morsels like you who think they can steal from him.”

“I—I wasn’t stealing,” Rhys defended feebly, “I thought you were a hill, I was just trying to climb over you, I swear!”

“Is that so? Well, then I’m gonna eat ya for waking me up from my nap, kiddo,” The troll—Jack—rumbled, tickling one gross claw underneath Rhys’ chin, tipping it upwards.

“Though….you are a pretty boy, aren’t you? Jack likes when they’re pretty.”

The troll’s face twisted with a sharp, lecherous grin, his mismatched eyes shining. The claw trailed down Rhys’ throat, pricking at the collar of his shirt and slicing it open around the top button.

Fear struck cold into Rhys’ heart. He grabbed at the trolls fingers, weakly trying to pry them loose as Jack stroked down his body with new intention.

“Wait, don’t!”

Jack laughed, voice low and cruel as he squeezed Rhys, leaving the young man breathless and gasping.

“Oh, you’re not in a position to be making any demands at all, pumpkin.”

The troll picked at Rhys’ breeches, effortlessly dragging them down to his knees before tossing them away like a used kerchief. Rhys twitched, legs instinctively closing to hide his nakedness. He tried to cover himself with his hands, but Jack’s thumb knocked them away as he drunk in the human’s half-naked form.

“Mmm, you’re such a cute little thing. I think I’ll turn you into a lil’ creampuff before I eat ya.” Rhys squeaked in fear as Jack’s other claw stroked down his own stout stomach, peeling down the rough leather of his loincloth. Rhys flinched as the troll’s cock popped out from below his belly, just as horribly green and bulging as the rest of his body and so huge Rhys could already feel it in the pit of his stomach. A fat gold ring dangled from the tip, glinting in the sunlight. Rhys thighs pressed even tighter together.

“H-hang on, if you put it inside of me, you’ll kill me!”

“So?” Jack snarled, clawed hands grasping tighter about Rhys’ body, like he were a cheap plastic toy. “I’m not gonna be losing sleep over another dead human.”

“B-but if you keep me alive, you can uh, keep on using me to please you! What’s the point of just wasting me on one fuck?”

The troll shrugged, the massive albino pelt slipping about his shoulders.

“Eh. There’s plenty of you pests running around.”

Rhys wriggled in Jack’s hand, trying to keep his gaze stern and confident even as fear squeezed his heart. He waggled a finger at the troll’s nose, making him go cross-eyed.

“Maybe, but you’re not going to get someone as cute as me coming this way again, I can promise you that much. Everyone in my village knows I was coming through here. When I don’t come back, they’ll know it was dangerous, and you’ll never have a chance with someone like me ever again.”

Jack relaxed back up against his mountain of golden rock, rubbing the raggedly goatee on his chin. Rhys’ heart leapt as the troll’s expression softened in consideration.

“I guess you are pretty cute…and it would probably be a bit of a waste.”

“Definitely a really big waste.” Rhys nodded fervently in agreement.

“But we’re still gonna have to do something about this, kiddo.” Jack gestured down towards his cock. Rhys stared at it for a moment, licking his lips and thinking.

“Okay…okay, hold on.” He’d established it was too big to go inside of him without something important ripping, so that was out. But he could use his mouth—maybe, if he was adept enough with his tongue the troll would be so pleased that he’d actually let him go. Or at least be distracted enough that Rhys could slip away and elude him.

“Just…okay, how about you just hold me down…down there and I’ll….I’ll blow you.”

“Blow me? Oh, kiddo, I’d like to see you try,” Jack cackled, thumping one clawed foot against the ground in glee, but he lowered Rhys level with his crotch regardless as he relaxed against his rocky, golden throne with a grunt and a jangle of piercings.

Rhys shivered as he was brought face-to-face with the troll’s fat cock, his heart stopping and mouth going dry as he looked back at the stiff, throbbing member. He swallowed without saliva, hands trembling as they raised up, grabbing for purchase against the troll’s shaft.

It was warm, much like the mossy palm he was now kneeling in. As Rhys watched, pre-cum bubbled slightly at the tip like a pot starting to boil over. Nerves worried in his stomach, the head of the troll’s cock frightening him. So he ignored it, for now, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the underside of the troll’s shaft.

He kissed up and down all flesh within reach, his hands stroking up and down the sides of Jack’s cock. He opened his mouth, tongue pressing flat against the warm skin. Jack tasted of metallic earth and salt, making Rhys’ lips tingle.

The hand closed back around his waist suddenly, yanking him away from the cock. Rhys gasped, eyes flying up to Jack’s toothy smirk leering down at him. His finger stroked Rhys’ chest, feeling his heart stutter.

“Mmm, this is nice, sugar, but I dunno. You’re gonna have to really blow my mind of you don’t want me to eat you.”

Rhys’ mind raced as he wiped saliva from his lips, trying to think of what would convince the troll he was worth sparing. Jack grunted at his hesitation, lifting the little man up. Rhys kicked and shrieked, stammering for more time but the troll didn’t pop him in his mouth and start crunching his bones—instead, he turned Rhys around easily in hand, then lowered him back down onto his crotch. Jack’s cock jutted out from under his belly like a thick green stem, and for a horrible moment Rhys feared the troll was going to end up trying to fuck him anyway. But Jack didn’t try to push his cock inside of him, instead wedging Rhys’ atop his shaft just shy of his balls, as if the young man was riding his favorite horse back home.

“There we go.” Jack patted Rhys’ head like he was a dumb pet. Rhys gasped, grabbing for purchase against the troll’s cock as his thighs clenched around the shaft. He felt Jack shudder, a low groan rumbling through the troll’s body.

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Now this is worth not eating ya for.”

Rhys moaned and shut his eyes, feeling his cheeks spread as he sat against the troll’s shaft. He circled his legs tighter around the girth, hugging it with his hands as Jack held him and jerked his entire body against his cock. The troll’s heaving belly pressed up against Rhys’ back, keeping him lodged and snug between the troll’s cock and hand and his bulging abdomen. Rhys gasped, his body squeezed as it was rubbed up and down Jack’s shaft like his entire being was a toy for the troll’s pleasure.

But even such rough treatment—and indeed perhaps because of it—couldn’t stop the first tingles of need to start to flare within Rhys’ loins. The troll’s hand and ponderous belly had pushed him until he was practically laying flat against his cock, nestling Rhys’ own member between the warm, sweating shaft and his skinny abdomen. Soon he started to grind himself down, independent of Jack’s guiding hand, feeling his cock start to stiffen and drip with pre-cum as he humped the monster’s massive girth.

He opened his eyes, mouth slightly hung open as he drooled. It’d been forever seen he’d been intimate with anyone, and though the idea of being used by a troll in such a filthy manner should horrify him, he couldn’t stop his body from responding to the friction and sweat and the squeeze of Jack’s clawed fingers around him and the press of the troll’s torso from behind. He felt so small, so helpless, and that feeling sent a thrilled surge through his loins that had him gasping and whining in pleasure, even as his cries were drowned out by Jack’s deep, throaty moans.

Rhys slid his hand up the sides of the shaft, fingers tickling along the sensitive skin as he worshipped the huge cock he’d been forced upon. He pressed his mouth up against the flesh, feeling the warmth of Jack’s blood and fluid surging through his dick, bulging out in thick veins. As Rhys kissed the trolls cock, his little hands traveled upwards, dancing along the puckered skin of his glans. Jack’s golden piercing jangled and twinkled with each thrust, drawing Rhys’ eye. He kissed closer and closer to the pierced flesh, until he planted his lips right up against the warm metal. He darted his tongue out, flicking the tip into the small hole where the ring dug right into Jack’s flesh.

The noise the troll let out was unholy, the valley practically rumbling with his howl. Rhys thought he heard a couple of rocks from the adjacent cliffs breaking and tumbling down, but Jack squeezed him tighter and more pre-cum splashed against his face and all he could focus on was pleasing Jack as his own little cock rubbed up against the shaft of the one he was riding.

Rhys swore the air itself split when Jack came, the troll’s roar ringing in his ears long after his cock had spasmed and shot cum like a cannon out all over his thighs and the mountain throne below. Jack’s fist clenched tight around him as he rocked his hips violently, and for a moment Rhys thought his lungs might burst as he was crushed between Jack’s hand and stomach and—oddly enough—that was enough to push him over the edge and splattered all over the troll’s shaft.

Rhys must have blacked out—due to the lack of oxygen or the orgasm, he wasn’t sure—because next he knew, he was resting on Jack’s bulging pecs, with a warm clawed hand petting with odd affection down his back. He heard the troll chuckle as he stirred, the sound vibrating against Rhys’ ear.

“Congrats, kiddo. You’ve proved your case, and then some.” Jack slid his finger underneath Rhys’ chin, tilting his head up. Rhys moaned softly, his neck weak, body pliable and limp. He knew he should be trying to escape, but Jack was so warm and his energy was so spent that he could barely move a muscle. His eyelids fluttered, a small sigh escaping his lips as Jack let his head fall to rest back against his chest, settling for stroking the young man’s fluffy hair and lulling him back into an insidious sleep.

“Forbidden Fruit” Ch. 1

thethespacecoyote:

A couple of lights flash outside the tank, and before Tim can cry out further something blue and neon enough to shine through the fuzzy amber of the stasis liquid funnels down the tube to fill into the mask. He clamps his mouth shut but in his panic forgets to hold his nose, anxious breaths unconsciously sucking in a cool gas that smells faintly of mint.

Instantly Tim feels it numb his throat as he sucks the mist into his lungs, like some tingling analgesic. It doesn’t take long for the substance to spread throughout his body, carried on his panicked blood as his thrashing somehow slows even more. His body floats like it’s half asleep, but his mind remains painfully aware that he’s getting rendered insensate by his captors.

The strange faces that look back up at him from outside the tank seems almost human, but off enough to make him feel even more unsettled than he already does—whether that’s reality or merely a distortion through the fluid and tube, he has no way of knowing, and as soon as something starts to squish and move in the liquid beneath his feet, he really doesn’t care about anything going on outside.

This was just a weird oviposition plot bunny that got out of hand. Basically Tim and Rhys get abducted by aliens and knocked up with eggs, and things spiral from there. The first bit is just some solo!Tim, though there’s preexisting Rhack also and Rhysothy/Rhackothy later on.

Warnings for tentacles, nonconsensual ovi, and also a pretty claustrophobic environment in this one!

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“Forbidden Fruit” Ch. 1

A couple of lights flash outside the tank, and before Tim can cry out further something blue and neon enough to shine through the fuzzy amber of the stasis liquid funnels down the tube to fill into the mask. He clamps his mouth shut but in his panic forgets to hold his nose, anxious breaths unconsciously sucking in a cool gas that smells faintly of mint.

Instantly Tim feels it numb his throat as he sucks the mist into his lungs, like some tingling analgesic. It doesn’t take long for the substance to spread throughout his body, carried on his panicked blood as his thrashing somehow slows even more. His body floats like it’s half asleep, but his mind remains painfully aware that he’s getting rendered insensate by his captors.

The strange faces that look back up at him from outside the tank seems almost human, but off enough to make him feel even more unsettled than he already does—whether that’s reality or merely a distortion through the fluid and tube, he has no way of knowing, and as soon as something starts to squish and move in the liquid beneath his feet, he really doesn’t care about anything going on outside.

This was just a weird oviposition plot bunny that got out of hand. Basically Tim and Rhys get abducted by aliens and knocked up with eggs, and things spiral from there. The first bit is just some solo!Tim, though there’s preexisting Rhack also and Rhysothy/Rhackothy later on.

Warnings for tentacles, nonconsensual ovi, and also a pretty claustrophobic environment in this one!

Tim already had already known his life was one parade of nightmares after the next.

If it had to pin it down, college would probably be where things had really gone down the drain—college had led to debt had to led to Jack had led to expensive and painful surgery had led to constant dangerous missions on exotic planets and more. He’d grown accustomed to the frenetic pace of his new lifestyle, though, so most things the universe tossed his way hardly phased him anymore.

But he has to admit—waking up in a tube of amber yellow liquid, unable to move—is a new one.

Thanks, universe.

Tim’s vision blurs, either by the fuzziness clouding his senses or the shimmering bubbles drifting up around him, he doesn’t know. He opens his mouth, trying to shout, only to find some kind of mask has been clamped around his lips and snapped tightly around his head. He follows the ribbed pipe attached to the mask all the way up, but loses it in the flat cap of the tube above him.

Tim can move, but only barely, whatever fluid he’s bathing in hampering his movements to a snail’s pace. He can see the tips of his right hand out of the corner of his eyes as he tries to lift it, but no matter how far he reaches he can’t touch any part of the tube’s glassy walls. The liquid clings to him like a heavy jelly, weighing him down as he tries to move his arms around to shield his body out of instinct. He’s still clothed, but he’s never felt more naked.

Floating without purchase starts to make him panic, the mask artificially pushing air in and out of his lungs not helping things. Tim thrashes as best as he can, trying to pull the mask from his face, but it clamps on tight like some kind of alien creature suckered onto him. The muffled sound of his own struggling cries sound distant to him, as if he’s hearing them shouted through the walls of another room.

As Tim writhes, shapes from beyond the bounds of the tube start to swim into view. They stay fuzzy, making indistinct and bizarre movements like abstract strokes of paint as they cluster around the front of the tank. Tim shouts, trying to form words he hopes would reach them, as if his bizarre captors can be convinced to let him go.

A couple of lights flash outside the tank, and before Tim can cry out further something blue and neon enough to shine through the fuzzy amber of the stasis liquid funnels down the tube to fill into the mask. He clamps his mouth shut but in his panic forgets to hold his nose, anxious breaths unconsciously sucking in a cool gas that smells faintly of mint.

Instantly Tim feels it numb his throat as he sucks the mist into his lungs, like some tingling analgesic. It doesn’t take long for the substance to spread throughout his body, carried on his panicked blood as his thrashing somehow slows even more. His body floats like it’s half asleep, but his mind remains painfully aware that he’s getting rendered insensate by his captors.

The strange faces that look back up at him from outside the tank seems almost human, but off enough to make him feel even more unsettled than he already does—whether that’s reality or merely a distortion through the fluid and tube, he has no way of knowing, and as soon as something starts to squish and move in the liquid beneath his feet, he really doesn’t care about anything going on outside.

Tim can hear some faint, mechanical whirr through the muffled density of the fluid, but before he can detect what direction it’s coming from something touches his foot and he’s screaming into the mask covering his face.

He mashes his chin to his chest in a desperate attempt to look down but he can barely adjust his body well enough to get a proper glance at what can possibly be below him. But he can feel it—oh god, oh god—he can feel it as it winds its way up his legs like some bizarre, spongy plant except its flexing like blood pumping through an artery and it sends sick fear spinning up into Timothy’s stomach. He kicks out numbly—more a jerk of reflex than anything—panicking as the appendages continue to wrap around him, undaunted and uncaring for his struggles.

The tip of the thickest tentacle pops his fly open as deftly as a hand, slipping inside and immediately diving underneath Timothy’s taint and back towards his ass. The double’s thighs shake, desperately trying to clench together and push the appendage away even as it shoves its way up between his asscheeks and towards his tight hole.

Tim has never taken anything up the ass without a healthy dose of lube, and even the spongy texture of the appendage doesn’t help ease the way as it pushes itself inside of his body. He grinds his teeth, spine twitching painfully in a last ditch attempt to push away from the thing inside of him, but with the syrupy fluid weighing him down and with nowhere to go, it proves futile.

The appendage pushes further up inside of him and he feels like throwing up, mind dizzy with shock as it struggles to process the fact that he’s being fucked and he can’t even see what’s doing the fucking or tell it no or even fight back. All he can do is hang there, suspended in this tube, letting whatever is below him violate his body.

The inside of the oxygen mask fogs as Tim pants faster and faster, breathing strained as the tentacle inside of him suddenly shudders, writhing so violently that Tim fears his insides might rip. This lasts for only a second, and briefly relief washes over Tim, only for the tentacle to start to swell to an unthinkable size right outside of his hole—and worse, push into him.

Tim’s hands squeeze into the fluid in a desperate grab for purchase as a round bulb pops inside of him and pushes along the length of the tentacle, working its way up into him through a nightmarish contraction of muscles that undulate against Tim’s sensitive insides. He can feel his cock harden in his pants, sensitive head bathed in the warm liquid as it pokes out from between the teeth of his open fly.

Fluid shoots out against his insides, the flesh of the tentacle porous as a sponge as it contracts in a wild peristalsis. He feels the tip of the appendage burst inside of him, pushing whatever’d been traveling along it out into stomach cavity. His abdomen twitches, twisting around the foreign object now rolling around inside of him. Tim gazes down at his stomach, eyes wide as if he has any hope to see what exactly is going on within his body as more of the orbs start to press inside of him.

Soon Tim can feel his middle start to strain as if he’s eaten a large meal, but instead of satisfaction he feels only a sick sense of arousal as the tentacles pulses against his insides, continuing its steady rhythm of brief swelling and sudden contraction. He wants so badly to just pass out, to hope this was nothing more than a sick dream, but the oxygen flooding the mask and the arousal swimming in his loins keeps him painfully awake and aware of the increasing pressure in his ass and stomach as this thing unloads whatever horrible shit its got into him.

Tim can see his stomach start to push out against his sweater, bloating rounder as the tentacle continues to pulse its load inside of him. His insides strain, clenching around the sudden mass, trying to drive it out and adapt to its presence at the same time, leaving Tim in a sick quandary as he stares helplessly down at his steadily swelling form.

The bulbs continue to press inside of him, so many that they start to build up in his ass, pressing up against his prostate and keeping his cock almost painfully stiff. He pants harder into the mask, tongue hanging out of his mouth as the appendage thrashes suddenly inside of him, trying to jostle the bottleneck of eggs forward. Spittle flies from Tim’s lips as he cries out, body unbearably hot and uncomfortable and aroused as his hips jerk forward, cock spasming with an orgasm as the rest of the bulbs suddenly shove all the way into his stomach with a last gush of thick, hot fluid.

Strands of his own cum, oddly suspended like beads of oil in water, are the last thing he sees before he blacks out completely.

The nymph cries out, spine arching upwards as Jack thrusts the first iron spike through his hand, driving through the meat of the palm and into the earth below.

Golden blood follows the lines in the nymphs hands, spilling out over the grass and weighing heavy on each blade like molten beads of dew. His fingers twitch like the legs of an impaled beetle, drawing Jack’s eyes to the tantalizing blood now spilling from the nymph’s body, but even with his desires beginning to spill out before him, he had no desire to collect and let the nymph go just yet.

Will-o-wisps flutter between the trees like spiritual voyeurs, light flickering behind each shielding trunk scattered around the clearing where the demon had pinned the nymph to the yielding forest floor. Jack’s attention draws from his prey for a brief moment as one foolish sprite strayed too far, drifting on the wind or its own curiosity towards the sordid display. The demon lets out a rusty growl and lashes out, clawed fingers yanking the wisp towards him as if he’s grasping current in the water. He hears the nymph below him cry out in shock as he opens his maw, jaws clenching down around the sprite’s momentary form.

It clings to his teeth like candy floss for a moment before he licks it back into his mouth with a vicious grin. The nymph’s eyes widen and he shouts louder as Jack’s fiendish face leers in close, the last bit of ephemeral light vanishing from between his fangs and into the greedy pit of his stomach.

“Y-You’re a monster,” the nymph seethes, tattoos squirming in horror.

“Stuck on You”

“Heh….you’re really stuck, tight, huh? Like a sausage trapped in its casing.”

“Ha ha,” Rhys deadpanned, ignoring the way his spine tingled at the brush of Jack’s fingers, “now help me get out of here.”

Jack responded by trying to wiggle the very tip of his finger between the vent and Rhys’ flesh. The omega heard him whistle at the snug fit.

“Hot damn. So frikkin’ tight.” Jack moved his finger teasingly, almost like he was trying to tickle Rhys, which snapped the omega’s nerves.

“Jack!” Rhys snarled, kicking out blindly behind him, his heels scraping against the steel floor of Jack’s office as he struggled to dislodge himself. “I’m going to fucking kill you when I get out of here!”

“If.”

Rhys’ hair stood cold on the back.

“W…What do you mean, if?”

“You heard me.”

God this monster is finally done. I’ve been working on this since like the end of August and it’s nice to have it out!

Set in the same Rival CEOs AU as this fic! Rhys gets stuck in a vent, and Jack takes advantage of it.

Major dub/noncon warning as well as one for humiliation….please don’t read this if you don’t want to see that kind of content!

Rhys had to admit, Jack had a nice view.

That was just about the only thing he would concede that the alpha had better than him. Sure, Atlas’ terran bases were fancy and skillfully designed, but he knew that even his slickest eco-domes and cliffside offices couldn’t compare with the massive, floor to ceiling view of the moon that had been stubbornly grafted into the side of the space station.

Maybe after he soundly crushed Hyperion next quarter, Atlas would be able to start construction on its own palatial satellite. Rhys was thinking three-hundred and sixty degree windows and an orbit parked right around Eden-6, to really make Jack steam.

After all, heat was certainly something Rhys craved, something that he missed whenever he and Jack were apart for so long.

He really liked letting the alpha stew, working him up and teasing him until he snapped into that delicious, violent passion that Rhys loved to indulge like a decadent pint of chocolate ice cream. He was about ready to play with Jack some more as they made to sit down and formally begin their rather informal meeting, when suddenly Jack’s ECHO blared a jarring noise that Rhys had never heard come from devices like it before. And suddenly it was like Rhys didn’t exist—Jack’s features went hard and cold in a way that was so unlike the usual malicious mirth that twisted across his face—as the CEO stood up abruptly and kicked his chair away, practically racing out of the room and leaving Rhys behind with nary a goodbye or a don’t touch anything or I’ll kill you.

He was left completely alone with only the background whirr of the station around him, half out of his chair as he stared out of the door that had just slid shut behind Jack’s warpath.

Rhys stalled, taking a long look around him. He knew Jack had his office bugged and monitored top to bottom, a fact that suggested he’d been duped into some kind of trap, or one of Jack’s sick games that he constantly changed up in an attempt to get a reaction out of the omega. Rhys rose to his feet, expectantly waiting for the hammer to drop, for Jack to unleash whatever immature plot he had in mind to make Rhys cower.

1….2…3……4…

Rhys counted in his head, pacing in bored little circles as time stretched on. Nothing. He furrowed his brows and tapped his foot, as if the incessant noise would somehow summon Jack to him. Still nothing.

Rhys looked from the door, to Jack’s desk, and back to the door. An evil little smile flitted across his lips as he practically danced over to the alpha’s abandoned chair, his lanky body nearly sinking into its large seat as he rolled it close to the desk. He adjusted the back of the chair straight up, changing the angle abruptly from Jack’s usual slouch.

He practically glowed with glee when he saw that Jack had left his personal interface open. Any private Hyperion dealings would most likely be locked to him unless he jacked in and did some serious decrypting, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little bit of fun screwing around with Jack’s personal files.

And Rhys did mean personal.

The entire folder called “me-sexy” was quickly copied and sent to Rhys’ own address, his ECHOeye pinging as hundreds of salacious selfies and mirror shots were downloaded. Rhys especially enjoyed the one where Jack had a bright yellow ball-gag in his mouth and a cute pink blush, wondering how Jack would feel if that picture ended up in the inbox of every high level Hyperion employee on the space station.

Rhys soon downgraded to some more petty things—rearranging the papers on Jack’s desk, randomizing the files on his computer, changing his screensaver to a singing Claptrap advert and scratching “Atlas > Hyperion” on one of the desk drawers—until he heard the sound of the fast travel activating from beyond the closed door, followed by a rough, loud shout. The omega froze, eyes wide.

It was Jack.

Jack sounded angry.

And Rhys had just ransacked and vandalized his desk.

The omega jumped out of his seat, looking around the room as Jack’s furious grumbling and kicking feet grew closer, brain racing as he tried to figure out what to do.

Sometimes, Rhys panicked. And when Rhys panicked, he tended to do very, very, stupid things.

So instead of trying to play off what he’d been looking for, or come up with a slick excuse, he decided to hide. And in his frenetic state, he’d decided to dive for a small opening in the wall parallel to Jack’s desk.

He’d made it about halfway, when suddenly he realized something was wrong. The vent had looked way bigger than it actually felt. He’d been able to wedge his shoulders and upper torso through the frame, but as soon as it had passed his waist and onto his hips it seemingly cinched around him, clinging tightly around him and holding him snugly in place.

Rhys let out a small, concerned huff as he suddenly found himself stuck, his hips jammed tightly against the solid frame of the vent. He didn’t have enough strength to push back and both his flesh and cybernetic hand could barely get enough friction on the bottom panel of the shaft to muster any kind of leverage. His metallic fingers slid uselessly, the skin of his other palm far too sweaty to provide any help. He grunted, trying to grind the heels of his boots against the slick floors of Jack’s office in a last ditch attempt to pop his body back out of the shaft with enough recovery time to pull his clothes back into order and fix the unruly fall of his hair before Jack finished walking in.

The heavy stomp of frustrated shoes, however, told him it was quickly growing far too late for that.

Rhys winced as the sound of footsteps slowed, their weight fading into something softer, more curious. Like someone testing out a ring of thin, pale ice before they decide to venture out. Eventually, the sounds stop all together, and Rhys holds his breath.

“Well well we-heh-well…what have we got here?” A chill dripped down the bend of Rhys’ spine, making him shudder.

“W….What does it look like, jerk-off?” Rhys snapped, rocking his body pointedly.

“It….it looks like, for whatever reason you had in your empty little head, you’re trying to make a quick escape through one of my air vents…” He could practically hear Jack mockingly stroke his chin, like a detective in a vintage mystery movie.

“But what possible motive might you have to hide, pumpkin? I leave you alone in my office, and I come back to you trying to escape….that leads to people making assumptions about your motives…”

“Maybe I just wanted to get away from you and the prospect of this boring-ass meeting,” Rhys replied dryly, trying to sound tough even in the face of his humiliating predicament. He wiggled once more, determined to unstick himself out of this situation, but to no avail—he earned little more than a deriding snicker from Jack as the alpha crouched down next to his helpless body.

Rhys could feel Jack’s fingers trail along the line where his body was wedged inside of the metal vent.

“Heh….you’re really stuck, tight, huh? Like a sausage trapped in its casing.”

“Ha ha,” Rhys deadpanned, ignoring the way his spine tingled at the brush of Jack’s fingers, “now help me get out of here.”

Jack responded by trying to wiggle the very tip of his finger between the vent and Rhys’ flesh. The omega heard him whistle at the snug fit.

“Hot damn. So frikkin’ tight.” Jack moved his finger teasingly, almost like he was trying to tickle Rhys, which snapped the omega’s nerves.

“Jack!” Rhys snarled, kicking out blindly behind him, his heels scraping against the steel floor of Jack’s office as he struggled to dislodge himself. “I’m going to fucking kill you when I get out of here!”

“If.”

Rhys’ hair stood cold on the back.

“W…What do you mean, if?”

“You heard me.”

“V….Very funny, you dick,” Rhys snapped, trying to push away the feelings of unease starting to swirl in his middle, “if you know what’s good for you you’ll get me out, unless you want Atlas to shoot your little satellite out of the fuckin’ sky.”

He heard Jack murmur something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I said, how’d you even get stuck in there anyway? Like….what was even going through that lil’ brain of yours, sweetie?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Jack. Remember who almost made you blow your top at the trade summit? You were about ready to throw a fucking tantrum.”

“I guess this is some kind of karmic revenge then, huh? Lucky me, the universe just goes ahead and takes care of my grudges for me. Here I was planning to tear your pretty clothes and screw you against my window until you cried, but…this is a lot more entertaining.”

“Not in my book,” Rhys huffed, “believe it or not, I’d much rather be letting you fuck me raw than being stuck here.”

“Mmm, well let’s not count that out, now.” Jack’s hands smoothed over Rhys’ stuck hips, rubbing them as if they were fruit blossoming on the verge of ripeness.

“Huh, you’re a little rounder than I remember you being….heh, maybe that’s why you can’t shimmy yourself outta there.”

Rhys flushed, suddenly self conscious of the way his soft belly was pressing into the bottom of the vent. His abdomen fluttered as he sucked it in. He…he hadn’t really gained that much weight, had he? Sure, he’d been stressed about a couple key planetary stakes Atlas had been trying to lay claim to, lately, and maybe he’d been hitting the double-chocolate mocha fudge a little hard these days. But surely it couldn’t have been so much as to actually contribute to him getting stuck in the stupid vent, right?

He flinched as Jack slapped his palm against Rhys’ side.

“Oh! Don’t tell me, you went and got yourself pregnant, did you sugar? That’s it, you’re getting all fat on some dumbass alpha’s pup, huh?

“N-No! I’m not…I’m not pregnant! As a matter of fact I’m cycling completely normally!”

“Haha. Gross.”

“Real mature Jack. Real mature,” Rhys grunted, banging his palm against the echoing metal of the vent,” now get me out of here?”

He could hear Jack humming behind him.

“Yeaaaahhh….nope.”

Rhys’ blood went cold.

“What…what do you mean, ‘nope’?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. That clear enough for your lil’ brain?”

“You…you can’t just leave me here!”

“Why not? You were the one snooping around my office, kitten. Looking into stuff you shouldn’t be. As far as I’m concerned, that’s enough license to let you suffer for a bit.”

“You..you have got to be kidding me,” Rhys snarled, fury rising up in his chest, “Atlas will not stand for this, Jack!”

“Aw, you’re cute, what’re you gonna do? You can’t play around your little palm pad in here, sugar, not anymore,” Jack cackled as Rhys glared grimly at his metallic hand. Just to double check, he tried accessing the ECHOnet, only to find his permissions had been denied. Fuck.

Jack’s laughed cawed behind him, as if he could sense Rhys’ actions. Anger flared up in him at the alpha’s mirth and he again kicked out behind him, desperately wanting to connect his heel with the alpha’s balls.

“Stop it Jack! This—this isn’t funny!”

“Oh no, oh no no no no, Rhysie. Believe me. I’m a guy who knows funny. And this? This is god-damn frikkin’ hilarious.”

Rhys felt unease spike up his spine at Jack’s words, again spurring his need to escape. He pressed his palms flat against the surface of the vent in front of him, straining as he tried to push himself out from where his body was snugly wedged in the steel frame. He could hear the scrape of his heels underneath Jack’s mad laughter, the alpha clearly enjoying how much he was struggling to escape.

His embarrassment grew a tinge of fear as he fully realized how he might look to Jack—predatory alpha that he was.

Sure, they fought. Quite often, They challenged each other in a clash to see who could force the other into submission first. That was fine—Rhys was used to that, but usually he at least had a chance to defend himself, to try to win.

Right now, he was completely vulnerable, and could do absolutely nothing about it.

He tried valiantly to calm his breathing, to bring back that sharp cunning and problem-solving that he’d become well known for. He tried to think of a plan, or something he could say to Jack to convince him to let him out, but as he chased his thoughts in circles he could find the only true solution was to let Jack tire out his fun and hope against all hope that the alpha could find a shred of mercy somewhere inside him for his on-again-off-again foe.

“So…” Jack’s dark tone returned, this time poisoned with something sweet and greedy, “what were you saying about how you’d rather me be screwing you raw?”

Hands smoothed to where his pants had ridden down his body, unable to push through the frame like his flesh had.

“J-Jack….stop…” Rhys whined as he felt the alpha’s hands deftly undo the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather completely out of the loops. Rhys heard it clank against the floor as his waistband loosened. Jack’s hands returned, popping the button on his fly and pulling down the zipper. Rhys trembled, feeling the brush of the fabric as his pants fell slowly down his hips.

“Hmm, you’re so cute,” Jack whispered as he pulled Rhys’ pants down his thighs, letting them pool around his knees. Rhys shivered. The air conditioning swirling around Jack’s office contrasted sharply with the humid space inside of the vent, the air increasingly stifled with Rhys’ wet, anxious breathing. The skin on his ass and thighs prickled in their bare state, twitching as Jack placed both firm hands right on Rhys’ round cheeks.

“You know, I just got this lube imported from Narcissus like, yesterday,” Jack’s voice was eager, amused, “I haven’t even used it to jerk myself off yet. Was gonna fuck the hot new Maliwan ambassador after our meeting before things went tits up, but as sexy as she is I’d much rather break it in with you.”

Rhys heard the pop of a cap, followed by the long, drawn out squeeze of the tube. The sounds sent a confusing mixture of fear and arousal right to his groin, his cock twitching and bobbing in the air.

“Ah! There we go, a sign of life, finally,” Jack chided. Slick fingers unexpectedly stroked along his length, tickling towards his sensitive head and making Rhys gasp.

“Still so sensitive, even when squeezed like toothpaste.” Jack sounded as giddy as a child as he pinched at Rhys’ cock, before his slick fingers returning to stroke a teasing curve around Rhys’ twitching cheeks.

“J-Jack…” Rhys eked out, trying submission as a last resort, “please….just….get me out…please…”

“Awww, easy, easy, sugar, it’s gonna be alright,” Jack’s voice was liquid with fake concern, “daddy’s got you, ‘kay? He’s gonna make you feel so good.”

The fingers pushed between his cheeks, sliding directly towards the omega’s hole like it was drawn by a magnet. Rhys trembled, letting out a soft cry as the alpha’s fingers breached his insides, sinking up to the first knuckle straight-away.

Rhys’ hands fisted uselessly as Jack’s fingers probed deeper inside of him. Rhys didn’t remember them being nearly this thick. Two fingers in his ass felt like the cocks of some lesser alphas and betas that he’d slept with over the years. It nearly felt like back in college, when Vaughn agreed to fuck him through his heats, only without the encouraging words and comforting presence.

He bit his lip tightly, staunchly denying Jack any pleasure he might draw from Rhys whining and moaning like some breeding bitch. He could feel his teeth scrape down against the tender skin, his canines pricking against his lips and popping little beads of blood. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Jack at least couldn’t see how hard he had to try to not cry out.

Fuck him and his stupid fingers. Rhys’ breath whistled harshly through his nose as said fingers wiggled insistently inside of him.

“C’mon, c’mon…gimme something to go on, kiddo…goin’ on a treasure hunt…” Jack hummed, singsong, as he curled his fingers. Rhys felt the tip brush up against the sensitive spot inside of him, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body that he could not suppress.

“X marks the spot.”

Jack’s fingertips continued to rub right up against his prostate, and Rhys couldn’t keep it in anymore. A tight, reedy moan burst past his lips, sending conceding flecks of blood and spit down onto the vent below him.

“Theeeeeere we go, that’s it, kiddo. See? This whole thing will go by a lot quicker if you give in. If you relax, then well, the time will just fly by.”

He felt Jack’s other hand grip his thigh, pulling his leg off to the side and spreading his ass further. Rhys cringed, his cheeks opened so he could no longer clench valiantly to stop the embarrassing amount of slick from leaking out of him. He could almost feel it splatter against the floor as it dripped off his thighs, every drop a knock against the last bit of pride he was desperately clinging to.

Rhys could hear the muffled jingle of Jack’s own pants, sending a sick tingle through his trapped body. He felt the warmth of Jack’s cock moments before it slid between his spread cheeks, pressing indomitably towards his hapless entrance.

Rhys whimpered, unable to stop Jack from pushing into him, the familiar fat head of his cock shoving deep inside of him without further preamble.

It’d been awhile since Jack properly fucked him. Last time they’d been together, Rhys had managed to wrestle the alpha into submission and bury himself deep down Jack’s throat, and the time before Jack had milked himself all over Rhys’ bloody, bruised face.

The last proper time had probably been the trade summit. Rhys had nearly torn out Jack’s throat over exclusive rights to mining on the southern pole of Rhea, and in retaliation the alpha had pounded him mercilessly up against the glass overlooking the Tauri star system.

Point being, he was tight. He squeezed involuntarily around Jack’s cock, his breathing hoarse as Jack struggled to push all the way into him, his insides catching against the thick shaft of his dick. Jack’s palm slapped against the wall above the vent, sending a rattling vibration all around Rhys’ trapped torso.

“Oooof, it really has been awhile, hasn’t it pumpkin?” Jack chuckled, nails scraping against the wall “…Nothing I can’t take care of, though.”

Rhys moaned as Jack pulled almost all the way out, before thrusting in hard, his balls bouncing off of Rhys’ ass and making the omega’s body arch. Rhys’ heeled boots ground into the floor, his fingers scrabbling against the bottom of the vent as the alpha railed into his hapless ass.

Jack fucked him at their usual, animalistic pace, with little care for how tightly and uncomfortably the omega was jammed inside of the vent, rocking his bulging flesh against the unyielding steel.

Rhys shut his eyes tight, drool dripping down his lips as he valiantly tried to focus on the uncontrollable pleasure throbbing in his lower belly, rather than the undeniable reality of who was forcing it upon him. His cock was stiff, the sensation of his own pre-cum beading at the tip and flicking on the floor with every harsh thrust sending shivers through his tense body.

Rhys’ skin prickled as Jack’s hand slid along his taint, brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Rhys clamped his teeth around a moan, up until the point where Jack tickled the underside of his balls and it spilled from his lips in a gasp.

“Bit of a shame I can’t see your desperate little expression as I fuck you raw, kitten, but you still make a great cum-dump.”

Rhys had hoped Jack wouldn’t want to spill inside of him. He was already so tightly lodged inside of the vent that he felt anything additional inside of him would cement him inside. Even Jack’s thrusts only wedged him tighter and tighter inside of the vent, the flesh of his hips protesting as they were squeezed against the unyielding metal, friction greased only slightly by the sweat beading on Rhys’ skin.

“J-Jack…” Rhys croaked, body shivering as another thrust landed home deep inside of him, “please, I….please don’t…cum…don’t cum inside…”

“What was that, kiddo?” Jack answered derisively, slapping Rhys’ ass as he yanked his dick out and plunged back in, “I can’t hear you! You’re gonna have to speak up!”

“Ah—please! Please don’t cum inside it’s, it’s too…please…” Rhys cried, though he knew he was being played. Jack had him helpless in the palm of his hand, working him up and make him plead for leniency he already knew was not coming.

“Pfft…kiddo, you’re hardly in a position to be making demands, here,” Jack sneered, punctuating his point with a rough thrust that made Rhys’ spine curl.

The young omega was panting through clenched teeth by the time he was finally forced to come, his hips bouncing back against Jack’s cock as his own throbs and spurts against the metal floor. A cry managed to scrape past his teeth as the alpha continued to fuck him, his oversensitive skin crawling against the now-warm steel of the vent frame as Jack’s cock finally jerked and twitched deep inside of him as the alpha nailed his final thrust home.

Rhys whimpered as he felt Jack’s cum throb further and further inside of him, making his middle swell uncomfortable and tender against the tight confines of the vent. His brain told him he was on the best birth control a ridiculous amount of money could buy, and yet that familiar twinge of worry spiked across his brain at the feeling of seed settling deep inside of him. He squirmed, fingers twitching as Jack continued to slap his hips against his ass, eventually slowing his pace as the burst of his cum slowly dried to a trickle.

“Phew….close one. Almost knotted you there, pumpkin. Not that I don’t miss it, but I don’t wanna be stuck to a wall for the next hour, y’know? Heh. Of course you know.”

Jack pulled out of him with a quick, liquid pop, leaving hot cum gushing from his slack, quivering hole. The Atlas CEO whimpered, trying to clench his ass to no avail as he felt a treacherous dribble of cum slid down his thigh. He cried out as broad fingers pushed into his ass, scissoring his tight muscles open despite his best efforts and letting more of Jack’s release spill out in an undeniably obscene way over his ass.

“Lookit you. Messy little Atlas whore. My little whore.” Jack hooked his finger against Rhys’ quivering hole, yanking slightly. Rhys hissed softly, tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Think I’ve won this round, huh?”

The omega didn’t bother to respond, hanging limp around the frame still holding him in place. Jack didn’t need words—Rhys’ disgust was palpable, his silence speaking to his shame.

The omega’s heart jumped as he heard the sound of the lube cap popping off once more, but he had little energy left in him to struggle.

“Jack…” Rhys rasped, “please…leave me alone…”

Jack didn’t reply. Rhys could still hear the rustle of his clothing, the slight vibration as Jack presumably again sunk to his knees behind him. Rhys continued to lay limp. A small, defeated sniffle echoed throughout the empty vent as he tried his best to relax the muscles in his ass and thighs.

But Jack’s hands didn’t roughly squeeze his ass, they didn’t forcibly spread apart his thighs, nor did they try to guide his cock back towards Rhys’ hole. Instead, Rhys felt them brush against his side, where his shirt and vest had rucked up towards his chest, until they met the seam between Rhys’ sweaty flesh and the hard frame of the vent. Jack’s slick fingers probed between skin and steel, greasing them up. Rhys held his breath, eyes widening as Jack grabbed his hips in a bear-hug, suddenly yanking back.

“H-Hold on, Jack, wait, that h-hur—“

Rhys screeched in alarm as his flesh briefly ground against the vent, his skin squeaking in a pitch to match his voice as Jack tugged him back with all his alpha-endowed strength. Rhys shut his eyes, convinced that Jack would rip him in half, when suddenly he shifted. With a harsh grunt, Jack yanked him free of the clutches of the vent, holding the gasping, half naked omega aloft.

Rhys nearly cried with relief, relaxing back into the big strong arms of the alpha for a brief moment before he realized what he was doing. Even then, he didn’t struggle much, merely hanging in Jack’s arms as he tried to muster a glare over his shoulder at him.

“Aw, don’t you look at your hero like that, pumpkin.”

Rhys barely had the energy to spit back a retort at the alpha, who insisted on keeping a hold on him for a couple more seconds before, thankfully, setting Rhys back down against the ground. Or perhaps not thankfully, considering his sudden realization of the post-sex weakness of his body.

Rhys’ felt his legs trembling, discarded pants chaining his ankles together as he tried to steady himself. He leaned back against Jack’s firm bulk, tolerating even the way the alpha’s hands clasped loosely over his stomach with the weight of his relief. Cum still dripped down his legs, lube greasy and shiny around his waist as he struggled to pull his pants up, to hide himself from Jack’s leering eyes—the alpha had already gotten way too much of his naked body today.

Not that that stopped Jack from ogling him as he struggled to pull his clothes back on, triumphantly holding a bright gold tube like he was posing for a photo.

“Guess I didn’t tell you that lube was multi-purpose, huh?”