Tag: dubcon

and some space pirate WIP

The kid looked even more gorgeous thrown against Jack’s bed, insulted blush coloring his cheeks as the pirate captain moved on top of him, pinning his wrists down against the red coverlet. He squirmed, knees instinctively coming up as he tried to force some space between himself and the imposing man. Jack only laughed, lifting one hand from the man’s wrists to shove over his mouth. A touch of panic fluttered into his eyes as his free hand scrabbled at Jack’s suffocating palm, allowing the pirate to force his way between the captive’s’ knees and shove their crotches together.

He quickly bit Jack, digging his little perfect teeth into the web between the captain’s thumb and forefinger. Jack snickered as the kid pulled a face, turning to the side and spitting at the taste.

“You…ugh, do you pirates ever wash your hands?”

“You tell me,” Jack smiled as he lifted his hand only to shove two thick fingers into the captive’s mouth.

The young man gagged almost immediately, his free hand grabbed Jack’s wrist and trying to pull him away, put Jack pushed forward, rubbing his fingers all around the warm slick of the aristocrat’s mouth. He tried biting him again, his teeth gnawing ineffectively against Jack’s knuckle until he shoved his fingertips all the way in the back of his throat, making it spasm.

“Y…you trying to make me…ugh…” He rasped, gagging as Jack whipped his fingers away, wiping them on the young man’s coat.

“Nah. Not into puke, sugar. Just thought it was funny,” Jack admitted with a loose shrug of the shoulders.

“Funny…you have a sick sense of humor…”

“Yeah, well, you think my hands are dirty, then you just wait n’ see what I’m going to shove in their next ah…” Jack raised his eyebrow, squinting down at the young man.

“Heh. Never thought to ask your name, pumpkin. What do they call ya?”

The captive laughed, voice high and derisive.

“Y-You, you really think I’m going to tell you my name, you mongrel? Hearing it in your filthy, degenerate tongue would really end up making me sick.”

“Fine. Then I’ll make up my own names for ya. How about bitch, whore, cockslut, jizzrag, any of those work for you your majesty—“

“That last one sounds nice.”

here’s the fic preview i posted last night, now without the cut

“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 tired 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.

@skybloodfox

you could say that, yes

“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 tired 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.

idk i know i’ve written rhys getting fucked by a monster while jack watches before but well. i wanted to do it again so

warning for xeno/monster fucking, cumflation, slight humiliation, overstimulation, dubcon

“40…39…38…37…”

Jack’s voice droned throughout the enclosure, the monotone belying the keen interest through which he was watching the scene before him. His pleased grin only widened as he watched Rhys claw at the ground, ripping up the grass and dirt within his grasp.

“J-Jack, please, can we stop, I—“

“Kiddo, I swear to god, if you make me lose track of the time I’m gonna have to sedate him and start all over,” Jack laughed out in warning, earning a high pitched whine from Rhys as he was thrust forward by the massive, hulking beast plowing into him from behind.

“I-I just don’t know if this is um, if this is safe? Jack? Ja—aack—“ the young man cringed as the beast’s thick, ribbed cock split apart his ass, warm saliva splashing down from its broad fangs and splattering onto Rhys’ bare back.

“He’s tied down, pumpkin. Besides, he’s designed to fuck, not tear you apart and eat you,” Jack dismissed with a wave of his hand, returning to massage his bulge as he split his gaze between the clinical timer in hand and the frantic trial-fuck going on before him.

“19…18…17…”

“J-Jack, I’m really…it’s…I can feel it, it’s too mu—“ Rhys cried, belly curving towards the earth below him as the beast burrowed as deep as it could reach inside of him, cock pressing out against his abdomen. Jack laughed, momentarily skipping a second of his count as he watched Rhys’ cock splattered up against the bulge in his stomach, painting it dripping and white.

“Too much, or just enough?” Jack squeezed his cock, not wanting to waste any time yanking it out of his pants. The main event was right around the corner, and besides it wasn’t professional to whip it out when they were conducting such serious scientific research.

“Hahhh, Jack…” Rhys whined, drool dripping from his mouth, cheeks bright red and sweating as he was quickly fucked from orgasm right into overstimulation. His thighs clenched futilely together, eyes wet as he glanced up at Jack, but the CEO made no move to help.

“J-Jack, it’s too….now it’s really too much…”

“10, 9—hold it, kitten—8, 7, 6—“

Jack was cut off by a loud, grumbling roar from the beast as it slammed its hips forward. It would have sent Rhys tumbling head over ass if its cock wasn’t now snugly swollen and thick inside of him. Jack clicked the timer, eyes glimmering madly as Rhys cried out, spine arching through the thrusts of the dick glued tight into his ass as it pumped a massive, searing hot load deep inside of him. Jack’s hand seized around his own dick, the orgasm that tightened in his stomach barely distracting him as he watched Rhys’ soft little stomach round out from the sheer volume of cum shot into him. The young man’s arms quivered, eventually giving out as he collapsed half on his side, moaning in distress as his insides filled with uncomfortably thick fluid.

Jack shouted triumphantly, jumping to his feet and waving the timer in the direction of the glass observation windows surrounding the enclosure.

“See boys? Got ‘em under three minutes this time! With a lil’ more fine tuning these babies will be ready to mass produce!” He cackled, tossing the timer into his chair as he walked over to where Rhys was laying on his side, panting and grimacing as the beast tried its best at aftercare, licking his sweaty cheek with a long, flat tongue. Jack put his hands on his hips, smirking down at Rhys as the young man shot him an annoyed look.

“Don’t give me that face, kitten. Maybe I should have ‘em take a crack at your DNA too, since you seem to be the perfect little cum-dump. And that face…real marketable.”

“You’re…nnnh…you’re not using me to make a sex doll…” Rhys protested weakly, trying to push away the beast as it nosed its snout against his temple. Jack stroked the beast’s jagged head, prompting it to raise up and jostle Rhys into letting out tender whine.

“We’ll see, kiddo. That all depends on how well these puppies sell.”

“Polyvalent”

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.

“Resplendent” (3/3)

Rhys’ struggles against the tentacle monster had grown weaker and weaker as the appendages had wound thicker and tighter over his form, to the point where he couldn’t move anything below the shoulders unless the monster manipulated him. He whined, tossing his head to the side, searching for anything that could potentially help him, but he froze the instant he saw a little yellow box with a flashing red light suspended in the corner of the café ceiling.

There were cameras all over Helios, he knew that. It was a fact of life living on the space station, and he’d never thought too long and hard about them until this point.

Because all of the cameras in the cafe were now pointed directly at him. He tossed his head about, eyes swinging wildly to confirm this fact. Red, flashing lights surrounded him on all sides, burning into his vision.

A small whine of fear clawed from his throat at the thought that somebody was watching him like this. Getting ravaged on the floor of a deserted cafe, his pants stripped off of his legs, showing off his colorful socks and leather sock garters. His ankles were held up in the air by the twisting appendages, legs spread apart as the tentacles lapped up between his thighs, snaking over his half-hard cock and tense ass.

Anonymous commission for the third installment of my tentacle monster smut series! This time, with Rhackothy and an extra dose of voyeurism. Previous installments can be found here and here. 

Enjoy! And leave me a tip if you’d like!

Jack and Tim had a problem.

It had started out lamely enough, with one of Jack’s people watching sessions. From time to time, when they either had a break in their busy schedules or the rest of the body doubles were around to pick up some of the slack, Jack would cycle through the hundreds of Helios cameras on his tablet and provide some colorful commentary. Tim usually tuned him out during these moments, scrounging his own ECHO for something to read or authorize in order to squander the time left between one of their next meetings.

“Well hey there.” Jack’s interested purr had broken through the bored fugue of weapon’s tests and trade agreements that clouded Timothy’s mind, the body double blinking in sudden clarity as he peered over Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmm?” Tim questioned as he rested his chin against the older man, peering against the glowing screen as Jack zoomed in

“Look. At those. Legs.” Jack murmured, grinning when the man on the screen suddenly turned around. “Damn, he’s pretty too.”

Tim felt his heart leap unexpectedly at the sight, of the young man with the mismatched eyes and sculpted, swept back hair that curled in little wisps at the nape of his neck. His face, mature and handsome in the chin and jawline yet boyish in the eyes and smile, moved easily through the conversation he was leading with two fellow employees in a way that made Timothy’s heart sing even through the distance of the security camera.

Jack wiggled excitedly in his chair as he took his eyes off of the screen for a moment, looking to Tim with a devilish gleam.

“We gotta make him ours.”

And that’s where their problem had begun.

They’d quickly started running out of excuses to summon the middle manager—Rhys—to their office. Tim was about ready to propose that Jack just hire the young man on as his secretary or personal assistant or cock warmer or something, but for whatever reason Jack was stubbornly against it, maybe because he was dead-set on seducing Rhys on charm and wit alone. Tim wondered if maybe that was why they weren’t making much progress in snaring Rhys, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

One night, where the both of them had needed a thorough unwinding from Assmaster, they stayed awake together with the warm, pulsing tentacles cuddled around them, swiping through the various screenshots of Rhys they’d taken over the past few weeks, before checking the profile they’d found of the kid on ECHOMeet.

“He’s listed as single….so it’s not cause he’s committed to someone else…” Jack hummed as he scrolled through Rhys’ profile, squinting at the brief paragraphs.

“Interests…ice cream, fashion, coding, Handso—oh for crying out loud, he has you listed as an interest and he’s still not biting?” Tim huffed, prodding at the offending text. “What the hell are you doing wrong?”

“Doing wrong? Uh, babe, I ain’t doing anything wrong.” Jack growled, furiously scrolling up and pressing his finger over the picture the kid had attached to his profile. It was unfairly attractive despite how obviously casual it was. The background looked like one of Helios’ fancy clubs—Humerus, Himeros, something like that—and the kid was dressed in what looked like a white crop trop streaked in pixelated gold and black, showing off something intricate blue tattoos that almost seemed to glow in the flashing lights of the club behind him. He was bent over a massive salt-rimmed fishbowl of a drink, filled with aqua liquor and ice and crowned with a beer bottle penetrated into its depths.

“Clearly he’s no stranger to having a good time…” Jack grumbled, swiping to zoom in closer on the kid’s face. He didn’t seem like he was some kind of weird prude who would rebuke their obvious advances. Jack knew enough about his own flirtatious tactics—thanks to Timmy’s perspective—to realize he wasn’t exactly subtle. He’s pretty sure he’s said the word “wiener” to the kid about five times already in their scant interaction. So what was the deal?

“Well…something might be wrong if he’s not biting…” Tim sighed, resting his head against Jack’s shoulder.

“Hm…I dunno. Maybe the kid is just shy? And we just gotta figure out something to loosen him up…” Jack shivered as one of the tentacles inside of him shifted, oozy muscles bulging out his hole.

“Hnnn…easy, girl, easy….” Jack stuttered as he patted the main, rumbling mass of Assmaster’s body curled up around them. The bed bowed underneath their combine weight, creaking every time either Jack or Tim or their alien cohort moved.

“Still a little frisky tonight, huh?” Tim asked, snuggling deeper into the grasp of the curious tentacles. “Hmm….she might need another round.”

“Then you two can have fun on your own, daddy’s exhausted.” Jack grunted as he shut down the tablet, passing it over Assmaster’s bulk and trying to set it on the nightstand, only for it to miss and go crashing to the floor. Jack swore, only for a helpful tentacle to reach down and pick it back up, sliding the device snugly into the desk drawer.

“Awww, you’re such a sweetheart.” Jack kissed one of the affectionate tentacles before wrapping his arm around Tim’s shoulders, ignoring the body double’s whines about not being tired yet as he tugged the covers up around the both of them.

“We’ll sleep on it, ‘kay pumpkin?” Jack pressed a kiss to Timothy’s forehead as the body double squirmed underneath the blankets. “Sure two handsome noggins like ours can figure out someway to land that little cutie.”

Timothy huffed, resigning himself to resting in his boyfriend’s firm grip as he snuggled against Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmmkay. I just hope you’re right about that.”

Unfortunately, the next morning did not bring a solution to their Rhys conundrum, and instead decided to toss another one onto the pile.

Jack woke up first, as he usually did, so attuned to a corporate routine that he found it hard to sleep in unless he was drugged—something that Tim found occasionally necessary.

Typically, Jack dragged himself from bed, begrudgingly untangling his arms from around Timothy’s sleeping body so he could deflect the accusation that he was a veritable octopus of a sleepy cuddler. He ran a hand through his hair, still limp from the sweat of the previous night’s fun, as he ambled over to the bathroom. He clicked his tongue a few times in the direction of the bed as he turned on the shower, leaving the door open so Assmaster could join him if she wanted. The monster’s body was primarily self cleaning—at least as far as Jack could comprehend—but usually she enjoyed the warm water of the shower and would sometimes give Jack a morning jerk-off to clear his head.  

He ducked underneath the stream of warm water, letting it trickle down his body as he cracked his neck. He expected the shambling mass of tentacles to creep into the bathroom and slide into the shower next to him any minute now, but by the time he’d rinsed the shampoo from his hair and slathered his entire form in body wash, there was still no sign of her.

Jack pushed his puzzlement from his mind as he turned off the shower, rubbing the golden towel over his body before knotting it around his hips. He grabbed his comb and fancy hair gel from the mirrored medicine cabinet, setting about styling his messy coif for the day ahead.

Jack shivered as he felt warm hands brush over his hips before settling against his stomach. A familiar chiseled jawline nestled against his shoulder as Tim pressed his lips against the edges of Jack’s lazy smirk.

“Mornin’ Timmy, what’s up?” His double grunted in response, nuzzling his nose against Jack’s cheek.

They got ready in tandem, Jack rubbing scar cream into his face as Timothy showered. The double helped Jack clip on his mask as soon as he got out, before Jack took the comb to Timothy’s hair, making sure it matched his own perfectly.

“You seen Assmaster this morning?” Jack asked as he swiped a wet piece of hair off of Timothy’s forehead, slicking it into the gelled fringe that mirrored his own style.

“Nah, not yet….she’s probably getting something from the kitchen…or napping under the couch…” Timothy hummed lazily, still trying to shake sleep from his eyes. He always did have a harder time waking up than Jack did. The CEO smiled fondly, finishing up styling Timothy’s hair and kissing his forehead.

“Mmm. There’s my handsome boy,” Jack snickered as he thumbed at Timothy’s chin, “and she better stay out of the leftover stroganoff, that’s got my name on it.”

“Well, you better get your hands on it before she snatches it,” Timothy chuckles as Jack brushed by him, patting him on the ass before heading off to the kitchen.

They were somewhat surprised to find that Assmaster was not, in fact, busy devouring the veal stroganoff that Jack had slaved over the night before. In fact, she didn’t make a single appearance for the rest of the morning as the two men prepared for the day ahead of them. Jack had plans to go down to advertising to approve the latest wave of his special edition posters, while Timothy would stay up in the office doing paperwork and other, more mundane tasks.

The body double sipped at his tea, the surface of the liquid clouded slightly with the tablespoon of creamer he’d carefully poured into it.

“You think she’s just hiding, or?”

Jack shrugged as he wiggled on his jacket, adjusting the shoulder pads that properly broadened his frame.

“Ehhh she probably just squeezed herself into a nook or cranny or something or other. I mean, where’s she gonna go? She loves us too much to run off,” Jack dismissed as he swaggered over, pulling Tim in for a kiss that tasted like bergamot and cream. He licked his lips.

“Now get your cute ass to the office, pumpkin,” Jack chuckled as he patted Timothy’s hip, before going to finish off his coffee.

Paperwork and fielding e-mails quickly got pretty boring for Tim, however. The body double soon found himself fiddling with the fake clasp on his chin as he deleted old messages and drafted up new ones for Jack to send out throughout the week ahead. He supposed he should be grateful that he could finally put his writing degree to good use, but most of these messages ended up retreading common territory and became pretty boring pretty quickly. There were only a few ways to gussy up weapons stats and grant approvals and Tim had ran through those dozens of times year ago.

Before he decided to revisit some of his old writing exercises to bide his time until Jack was done down at advertising, he decided to flick through the big holographic display on his desk and see if he could do a little “surveillance” on Rhys. It had been awhile since either of them had properly interacted with the middle manager, and last time had ended rather inauspiciously when Jack had tried to “casually” put his arm around Rhys’ shoulder only to clock the kid right in the temple port.

They still weren’t entirely sure how they’d recover from that…

Nevertheless, Timothy still found himself flipping through the cameras monitoring Rhys’ usual haunts, puzzled to find there was little sign of the young man. He wasn’t at his desk, nor was he at the little break room stuffing his face with his favorite strawberry danishes or loading his coffee up with french vanilla creamer and plenty of sugar. Puzzled, Tim flipped through a couple more of the cameras, their ID numbers already rote knowledge to his fingers as he scanned through Rhys’ favorite ice cream parlor, his best friend’s cubicle down in Accounts and Financing, and the cybernetic enhancements clinic.

However, he didn’t find the familiar leggy brunette at any of those locations, which did little to lift Timothy’s bored and—increasingly annoyed—mood.

“C’mooon, where did you run off to?” Timothy huffed as he continued flipping through random cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of his and Jack’s newest paramour. He was about ready to give up when, through sheer luck, he switched to a camera inside of one of the Hub’s most trendy cafés with its monitor fixed directly at Rhys’ face as he enjoyed lunch with a woman Tim had seen around him a couple of times.

Timothy tried to ignore the blush that rose in his cheeks and the giddiness that filled his heart at being able to see Rhys, the smile on the young man’s face helping Timothy quickly pull out from the boredom.

The body double smiled, wheeling the chair closer to the desk as he settled in to watch—and pine.

Rhys was busy prodding at the remnants of a chicken cobb salad, grimacing slightly at the fact that had had already scraped up the last of the chicken and cheese and bacon and was now left with only sodden lettuce and tomato smeared on the bottom of his plate. He eyed Yvette’s caprese grilled cheese and fries with a jealous leer, half wondering if she would even let him have a bite if he asked.  

Vaughn had pointed out his tummy pooch a couple more times than Rhys was comfortable with lately. And considering how his bro had slimmed down and toned up considerably over the past couple of months, it stung extra hard. So he was trying to at least eat healthier, since a couple of disastrous gym visits had reminded him that he wasn’t the most coordinated when it came to using any of Helios’ fancy exercise equipment.

But eating healthy sucked, even if this particular cafe had found a way to jazz up salads so they weren’t entirely awful.

“You know, I won’t tell Vaughn if you want to order ice cream. But only if you buy me one too.” Yvette smirked as she leaned her chin forward onto her palm. Rhys rolled his eyes even as a grin spread over his features.

“Okay, deal, I swear I haven’t even bought any ice cream lately because he keeps making fun of me.” Rhys wiggled in his seat as he cheerfully ordered two sundaes with extra whipped cream from the waiter.

“I dunno what his problem even is. Normal people eat a pint of Chunky Peanut Butter Fudge Ribbon when they’re upset, not some weird protein shake that tastes like chalk.” Rhys stuck out his tongue as he folded the dessert menu up tucked it back into the condiment holder.

They passed the time with more of the same idle chatter they’d been having, gossiping about work and Vaughn and each other’s love life. Rhys didn’t have much to speak on about that topic, but Yvette was well into telling Rhys how her latest date had gotten when their sundaes—piled high and dripping with fudge and caramel—arrived at the table.

Rhys rubbed his hands together before he picked up his spoon, excited to dig into the mountain of a sundae, when he noticed that Yvette was’t following suite. In fact, she was staring at him—or, slightly past him?—with her eyes reflecting confusion and her lips slightly parted.

“Uhh, Yvette? What’s wrong, something—“

Rhys heart leapt as he felt something firm and long slap over his throat, a scared squeak tearing from his lips as his head was suddenly pulled back against the chair with the strength of the appendage. His eyes widened with fear and his hands clawed up at the thing now winding around his neck. His breathing picked up as panic seized at his chest. His nails dug at the appendage as his eyes strained downwards, trying to get a proper look at the thing now crawling up his jaw, leaving a trail of slick in its wake.

“Y-Yvette, help—“ Rhys choked out to his friend, other hand scratching at the air. Yvette was already up, her own chair crashed against the floor as she watched the unseen horror lapping up from around Rhys’ chair. He could see her ECHO on, bright blue illuminating her moving lips before his attention was snatched by the tip of the choking appendage plunging into his mouth.

Rhys scream was muffled as the tentacle shoved deeper inside of him, the girth of the appendage swelling up and stuffing his mouth, pressing his tongue down as the tip flickered towards the back of his throat.

Even with the immediate threat of the tentacle trying to wiggle its way down his throat, Rhys could feel even more of them crawling around the chair, winding up his legs and wrapping around his arms in an attempt to hold him down in his seat. Rhys jerked, struggling to his feet against the strength of the appendages holding him, desperately trying to pull out of their grip and run like hell away from whatever was trying to capture it and whatever it had in mind for him.

Suddenly a tentacle curled sharply around his ankle, yanking his footing out from under him and causing Rhys to fall forward, arms wheeling outwards as he let out a high-pitched scream.

Rhys expected to crack his head against the hardwood floor, only for more warm, writhing tentacles to break his fall. He gasped as he was grasped around the chest and waist, propping him up against the ground as the appendages writhed all over him like a carpet of snakes. He squirmed uncomfortably, arms and legs thrashing against the tentacles that quickly caught him up in their firm, pulsating grip.

“Somebody help me, please!” Rhys cried out, jerking his head around to try to find somebody, anybody who was still there to help him, but the last remaining stragglers in the cafe were merely staring at him in horror as the tentacles curled around him.

“Jack!”

The CEO cringed at Timothy’s scream pounded into his ears the moment he entered the doors to their office, even louder than the panicked, confused cries that had screeched off the ECHO right in the middle of the printing room. At first Jack had been grateful for the excuse—as much as he loved looking at endless, glossy posters of himself spitting out of the printer, the fresh ink had started to make him feel nauseous and it wasn’t gonna be all that heroic to blow chunks all over the team of graphic designers. But Timothy’s inability to explain exactly what was going on over the ECHO got frustrating really quick, leading Jack to barge on into their office to see exactly what the deal with his body double does.

“What’s up, Timmy? You done hollering my ear off?” He growled, digging his fingertip into his ear for emphasis. Timothy shot him an aggravated look, before frantically waving him over to the blue display that lit up his face in an eerie glow. Jack raised his brows at his double’s antsy state, thumping up the dais and over to the desk, rounding around to where Timothy was standing as he peered at the display.

“Oh holy crap,” Jack’s eyes widened as he zeroed in on the crystal-clear image of Rhys, the months-long object of their affection, laid flat out on the floor with their tentacled pet busy wrapping itself around his helpless form.

“Well….guess we figured out where she went, huh?” Jack laughed nervously, already feeling heat tingle through his body at the sight of tentacles winding up those long, long legs that so often he’d imagined running his palms over. Tim let out a frustrated whine, gesturing at the screen as he glared at Jack.

“W-We have to do something! We’ve been…we’ve…she’s going to…we have to do something!” Tim babbled, his attention split between his genuine worry and interest in the strained gasps coming from the display.

“You know she won’t let go of him until she’s had her fill, Timmy, not unless you want to send in somebody to hurt her,” Jack growled, sitting on the arm of Tim’s chair and squeezing the double’s shoulders.  Tim stared incredulously at him, circling a stabbing finger right around Rhys’ digital face.

“Do you not see this? She’s….she’s going to hurt him! She’s going to…she’ll ruin all we’ve been trying to do with him! What do you expect us to do?”

Jack’s eyes glimmered, smirk twitching up at the edges as a long, crying moan crackled through the display’s speakers.

“Watch.”

Rhys’ struggles against the tentacle monster had grown weaker and weaker as the appendages had wound thicker and tighter over his form, to the point where he couldn’t move anything below the shoulders unless the monster manipulated him. He whined, tossing his head to the side, searching for anything that could potentially help him, but he froze the instant he saw a little yellow box with a flashing red light suspended in the corner of the café ceiling.

There were cameras all over Helios, he knew that. It was a fact of life living on the space station, and he’d never thought too long and hard about them until this point.

Because all of the cameras in the cafe were now pointed directly at him. He tossed his head about, eyes swinging wildly to confirm this fact. Red, flashing lights surrounded him on all sides, burning into his vision.

A small whine of fear clawed from his throat at the thought that somebody was watching him like this. Getting ravaged on the floor of a deserted cafe, his pants stripped off of his legs, showing off his colorful socks and leather sock garters. His ankles were held up in the air by the twisting appendages, legs spread apart as the tentacles lapped up between his thighs, snaking over his half-hard cock and tense ass.

“Nnnn….” He groaned, eyelids fluttering as one of the appendages snuck between his asscheeks, its slick tip prodding at his hole. He clenched down, trying in vain to shut out the tentacle as it wiggled its way inside of him. He gasped, body tensing further as the tentacle pushed deeper and deeper inside of him, forcing his clenched muscles to spread out around its girth.

In all honesty, Rhys hadn’t been properly fucked in a long time. He’d gone on a couple of dates lately, but they hadn’t really progressed beyond the requisite dinners and perfunctory “thank you” kisses. It had been a good couple of months since he’d been intimate with anyone at all, and it was closing on a full year since he’d last been fucked in any way memorably.

Well. This was certainly memorably, though he didn’t really know if it was in a good way or not.

The initial terror and shock of being assailed in public by a foreign tentacle beast was slowly starting to pass as the appendages pulsed around him, much less constricting now that Rhys was barely struggling. It was—almost like he was being given a warm, full-body hug. Admittedly by some creature who had jumped him out of nowhere, but still. It could be worse.

Better than a hookup with Vasquez, at any rate.

Rhys’ hips jolted involuntarily as the tentacle curled inside of him, the tip flexing slightly against his sensitive innards. He furrowed his brow as he felt his cock twitch in the air-conditioned air of the café, peering down the length of his body to see the pink head of his cock rise up above his rucked up dress shirt. He frowned slightly around the tentacle in his mouth, slightly perturbed at how quickly he was getting hard but—ah!—well the creature was starting to curl up against his prostate, so it wasn’t really his fault was it?

A moan trickled from his stuffed mouth as more of the tentacle pushed inside of him from both ends, filling his ass and throat like cock, except so much more flexible. Rhys could feel the fluid contractions of tentacles’ muscles as they pumped further inside of him, deeper than any cock could possibly reach. His heart fluttered in his chest at the overwhelming wave of sensations, pleasure cooking deep in his belly as the tentacles tended to him. He distantly recognized the alien bulge and shift in the typical flat of his abdomen, but the pleasing stretch and weight inside of him was enough that it seemed like a non-issue.  

He twitched involuntarily as more, smaller tentacles started to swarm underneath his shirt, sliding slick up the trembling muscles in his belly to reach his chest. The breath hitched in his throat as he felt the tips of the tentacles flicker against his pert nipples before loosely winding about and prodding the sensitive nubs. Rhys’ hands clenched into fists within the grasp of the appendages, distantly questioning this creature’s knowledge of human sexual pleasure while he reveled in the odd intimacy he was being treated with.

Tingling arousal spread throughout his body as the tentacles lapped all over him—filling his throat and ass, curling around his sensitive chest, stroking his pale cock—with an eagerness or care that Rhys hadn’t experienced in quite some time. The tentacle in his mouth withdrew slightly every time he choked, which was more than he could say for some of his past lovers. Rhys had been picking oily pubes out of his teeth for a couple of minutes after the last time he’d been made to deep throat Vasq—

Whatever train of thought Rhys had was interrupt as the tentacle around his cock gave him a firm, slick squeeze just as the tentacle inside of him swelled and thrashed right up against his prostate, forcing a muffled shout out of the young man as his cock unexpectedly spasmed and released all over his bulging belly.

Rhys’ entire being felt hot and full and oddly satisfied, post-coital and cuddled in the pulsating mass of tentacles still buried deep inside of him. He tingled in overstimulation as the appendages continued to flex and thrust in and out of him, growing warmer and pulsing quicker until the entire mass constricted around him in a sudden undulating shift.

Rhys groaned as he felt fluid burst from the tentacles inside of him, warm, unctuous fluid spurting down his throat and into his ass, seemingly without end. Rhys squirmed as he felt his stomach start to fill up from the sheer onslaught of cum spilling from the monster. Smaller tentacled fluttered against his belly, petting and stroking it as his bloated flesh pressed uncomfortably against the remaining fastened buttons on his shirt.

He felt the tentacles cushioning him slowly deflated and retreat, slowly leaving him laying flat against the now-warm hardwood of the café floor. Rhys let out a soft whine at the sudden loss of the tentacles’ presence, feeling empty and suddenly hyper-aware of the air conditioning now fluttering over his bare legs and hips.

Rhys was so dazed, so exhausted from the fucking that he barely noticed the sounds of footsteps growing closer until they were practically on top of him, two amorphous shapes silhouetted by the café lighting. He glanced up, eyelids fluttering.

“Wh….who are you…?” Rhys asks. His vision is blurry with tears, ECHOeye feed strained through exhaustion. One of the fuzzy, dark shapes above him shifts, growing closer, more focused, smiling.

“Us? We’re your guardian angels, babe.”

They’d gotten a couple of strange looks as they’d thumped through the Hub back towards Jack’s office with a half-conscious, pant-less Rhys supported between them, but Jack and Tim had far more important things on their minds than the opinions of random middle men and women whose eyes were drawn with alarm to the sight of two Handsome Jacks dragging a cum-slicked half-naked man between them.

Jack was thoroughly pleased, despite the unorthodoxy of the day. Sure, they hadn’t planned for Assmaster to go rouge and find Rhys herself, but he couldn’t argue with results. Jack had staked his entire legacy on the “ends justified the means” idea, so extending it to his romantic life was just natural.

Tim’s expression was a little more unreadable, but Rhys was clearly pleased by how his day had unfolded. Occasionally he would look up to either Jack or Tim with dazed but undeniably starry eyes, a stupidly cute little smile fluttering on his lips as the CEO and his body double helped him walk over to the leather couch flanking one side of his office.

“A-Ah…you two…” Rhys whimpered softly as he was manhandled onto the couch, tensing up as he was made to sit on his bottom. Frowning, he flipped himself over onto his belly, body half-resting in Timothy’s lap as Jack got on his knees on the cushion behind Rhys, broad hands softly massaging the young man’s bare, still-sticky thighs. Jack hummed, sticking the tip of his tongue out from between his lips as his fingers moved up to the kids pink ass, spreading his cheeks outwards to get a look at the young man’s abused hole.

“W-Wait! Haven’t I…it’s…it’s too much…” Rhys whined, turning to look behind him, clearly unsure whether he should chastise Jack or not, but his ass and insides did ache from its treatment from the tentacle creature. Tim lifted his eyes up to Jack, carding soothingly through Rhys’ hair as he gave his boyfriend a stern look.

“Maybe putting your dick inside of him right after Assmaster has had her way with him isn’t the best idea?” He offered, earning himself a snort from Jack.

“Jeez, Timmy, after all the trouble we’ve been through to land him? When he’s literally—literally—in our lap?”

“Well,” Tim hissed, “if you want to keep him around, it might pay off to be nicer to him and not fuck him while he’s already raw.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but offered a relenting pout. Still he rucked his sweater up higher on his hips, jingling with his belt as he withdrew his cock. He reached forward and fingered lightly around Rhys’ hole, earning himself a gasp from Rhys and a stern look from Timothy.

“Relax, kiddos, I ain’t gonna put my dick inside of him, but I don’t wanna chafe that perfect bum with what I do have planned,” Jack winked as he slicked up his cock with some of Assmaster’s residual golden cum, shaking his hand and flicking the remainder onto the steel floor. He carefully braced his hands against Rhys’ hips, nudging his shiny cock between the young man’s tender asscheeks.

“Easy, pumpkin, just gonna jerk myself off between these two pretty cream buns of yours before blue balls makes my frikkin’ dick fall off,” Jack growled as he started to rut his cock up against Rhys’ behind. The young man let out a small groan of protest, but his hips twitched back, encouraging.

Tight gasps and a screwed up expression from Timothy told him that he was tending to himself on the other side of Rhys, and the way the kid started shuddering and shaking despite his own exhaustion told him Timmy was also taking some pity on their ravaged paramour.

Rhys’ spine bent in am attractive curve between Jack’s firm hands and Timothy’s soothing grasp and warm lap. The spent muscles in his back shuddered and flexed as Jack thrust his cock between his tender cheeks.

The CEO was already pretty wound up from the video feed, so it took him only a couple more strokes to be releasing all over Rhys’ ass, painting those pert little orbs as Rhys moaned out at the splash of hot fluid.

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s nice, that’s real nice, babe…” Jack purred, rubbing his fingers firmly into Rhys’ plush ass. His pearly cum looked really good with the molten gold of Assmaster’s still drying against Rhys’ backside. Jack nearly purred at the sight, grabbing his phone and leaning back to get a good snapshot before he slumped forward, pressing a hot kiss against Rhys’ spine. Tim had managed to jerk the both of them off n the time it’d taken for Jack to come down from his own orgasm, leaving all three men in an intimate, shuddering heap of pleasure.

Rhys let out a strangled groan as Jack jostled him onto his side, so he and Tim could spoon him front and back.

“Yeah? You got anything else to say for yourself, kitten?” Jack patted Rhys’ backside as he wiped his cock off into some balled up notepad paper he’d stuffed into his pocket back in Advertising.

“You…you two owe me a sundae…” Rhys whined as he snuggled up against Timothy, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s tight waist as he snuggled him, dozing off. Timothy smiled affectionately down at him, running his fingers through the young man’s hair. Jack smirked, shaking his head as he reached around, wiping the cum from both of their cocks as well. He didn’t need stains sitting all smelly and crusty on his fancy couch.

“Babe, you give me half the show you gave us tonight, and I’ll give you as much ice cream as you can fit.

“Heat”

The air had been practically warm with scent-markers that Rhys could distantly place as being Jack’s, but something had been wrong with them in a way that had made his bonding gland throb with anxiety.

“Jack?” The omega had called without thinking. He’d heard more movement, seen Jack’s chair move slightly. The omega, fearing harm had come to his mate, had quickly sprinted forward, heels clipping up the stairs of the dais to Jack’s desk when he had been stopped dead in his tracks by a sudden blur of movement.

A loud crash had rocked Rhys’ ears as something large had leapt from the floor atop Jack’s nest, followed by a furious snarl unlike anything the omega had seen before. A sudden blast of instinctual fear had halted his momentum, eyes snapping to the figure on the desk. His mouth had dropped as he saw Jack, hunched on all fours, staring at Rhys’ with eyes that had practically glowed even in the light of the office.

Someone brought up the idea of alpha!Jack being injected with something to make him feral/in a rut, ending up with him attacking/trying to mount Rhys and Rhys has to both fend him off and subdue him for long enough to figure whats up

I’ve done plenty of fics where Rhys is the one in danger soooo why not have something bad happen to Jack while showcasing some more bamf Rhysie

Rhys can’t even hear the sound of his own breathing over the pounding of his heart.

He tries, desperately, to get his body functions under control even as panic courses through him. He grasps at his chest, tugging at the suddenly too-tight fabric wrapped about him, needing more room to breath so he could properly calm down. He needs time to think, he needs space, both resources that are rapidly starting to close with every distant snarl and dragging footstep he can hear down the long hallway.

His other hand grasps at the sheathed stun baton at his belt as his golden claws tear at his tie, pulling it loose before he undoes the buttons of his shirt, the cool, circulated air of the customer service cubicles kissing his pink panicked skin as he tries to slow his breathing.

He had only stopped by Jack’s office to briefly discuss with the alpha what he’d observed down at Weapon Testing earlier in the evening. Sure, he’d ordered the report sent up straight to the CEO, but Rhys often preferred discussing things openly with his alpha. After all, even the most boorish Hyperion underling knew that there were two brains helming the future of the company.

Everything had seemed normal when Rhys had ridden the elevator up to Jack’s office. The majority of the other personnel had gone home for the day, leaving their cubicles and desks empty save for kitschy personal belongings. Rhys had gingerly stepped around the little roomba buzzing around on the floor, cleaning up the remains of the day, as he had walked down the long hallway to Jack’s office, deftly opening up the steel door with a quick tap of his golden fingers.

That was when things had taken a turn for the worst.

Immediately as the doors had opened, Rhys had been hit by a wall of scent so thick that he’d actually stumbled backwards. Blinking furiously and wrinkling up his nose, Rhys had pressed his flesh hand over his face as he scanned the room, hackles raised. The well-light office—both by means artificial and from Elpis—had revealed a shocking scene. Papers and ECHO tablets had been thrown across the room, some of the latter still sparking as they lay shattered on the steel floor. Some of Jack’s own busts had been clawed at, like someone had taken a butcher’s knife to them, and one had even been knocked over and broken upon the ground. Jack’s trophy case had also been smashed, with its treasures scattered and strewn over the office.

With such carnage, Rhys had expected to scent blood.

But there had been nothing like that in the air, only the overwhelming, pungent stench of alpha musk. Rhys hadn’t been able to suppress the disgusted cough that had choked from his throat, and as it echoed about the room, Rhys could hear something move from the other side of Jack’s desk.

The air had been practically warm with scent-markers that Rhys could distantly place as being Jack’s, but something had been wrong with them in a way that had made his bonding gland throb with anxiety.

“Jack?” The omega had called without thinking. He’d heard more movement, seen Jack’s chair move slightly. The omega, fearing harm had come to his mate, had quickly sprinted forward, heels clipping up the stairs of the dais to Jack’s desk when he had been stopped dead in his tracks by a sudden blur of movement.

A loud crash had rocked Rhys’ ears as something large had leapt from the floor atop Jack’s nest, followed by a furious snarl unlike anything the omega had seen before. A sudden blast of instinctual fear had halted his momentum, eyes snapping to the figure on the desk. His mouth had dropped as he saw Jack, hunched on all fours, staring at Rhys’ with eyes that had practically glowed even in the light of the office.

“Um…Jack?” Rhys had tried, eyes roving over his husband’s body. Jack’s clothes had been ripped, but there had been no blood, no injuries as far as Rhys had seen. The alpha’s claws had been out, digging  long grooves into the desk as he’d glared at Rhys. His fangs had been curled over his lips even as they parted in a vicious snarl. A deep, nigh inhuman growl had simmered in the alpha’s chest as his nostrils had widened, violently scenting the air around him.

Rhys’ mouth had opened again, trying to reach through whatever was clouding his husband’s mind, only for Jack’s body to visibly tense up.

Rhys had had barely enough time to turn around before Jack had been leaping from the top of his desk and on top of him.

Rhys had screamed when Jack had landed on top of him, the alpha’s weight slamming him against the steel floor and nearly knocking him out cold. Rhys had felt warm blood explode from his nose as his face had been forced against the ground, one of Jack’s clawed hands grasping the back of his head and holding him down. Rhys had snarled back at his mate, needle-like omega fangs curling over his lips as he bucked furiously backwards.

“Jack, th’ fuck is your problem, get off me—!” Rhys had started, spitting blood froth onto the floor as he’d turned to look at his mate, only to feel something warm and thick press into his ass.

And that had been the moment that Rhys had realized his alpha was hard as a rock.

All hope that this had been some kind of role-play taken too far had been dashed when Rhys had breathed out their safe word, only to be ignored as Jack had continued rutting against his ass and making dull, snuffling noises at the back of his neck. Discomfort had crawled all over Rhys’ body, fighting the instinctive arousal humming in his body at the feeling of an alpha mounting him. Something had been incredibly, terribly wrong, and Rhys wasn’t just going to lie back and take it.

Jack may have had brute strength, but his mind had been practically gone, making it easy for Rhys to reach down and press the activation button on his stun baton.

Jack might kill him for the burn in his thigh later, but Rhys had been thinking about little more than escape when he’d crawled out from underneath the howling alpha, nearly breaking his heel as he’d made a mad dash to the hallway leading away from Jack’s office and crashed into a hiding place among the many adjacent cubicles.

Which was where Rhys had remained, panting and panicking as he tried to reconnect his brain to his body and think of a plan.

He’s already turned up the stun baton up another notch, from “kind of piss off” to “knock out cold” because by the sound of things, something is seriously wrong with Jack, and he need more time than he currently has to figure out what exactly is happening.

Rhys can hear the thumping footsteps of Jack getting closer, echoed by breathy, slovenly growls as the alpha approaches the grid of cubicles. A loud chuff snarls through the air as a mug shatters on the floor only a couple feet from Rhys. He listens as Jack ransacks the first cubicle, sniffing gruffly at the air as he stalks closer.

Rhys moves as quietly as he can into a crouching position, flesh hand clenching tightly over the handle of the stun baton. Many thoughts swarm around in his head as he tries to focus on the task at hand—subdue Jack first, ask questions later.

He waits until the alpha is only one cubicle down, until he can practically feel the hot, searching inhales against his skin. His body tenses up when he can see Jack’s glowing, mindless eyes from under the desk he’s hiding in, which is when he strikes.

They’ve had two kids already, so hopefully Jack will forgive him for aiming for the groin.

Rhys sends an ECHO message off to Tim explaining the situation and asking if the double can watch the boys for the rest of the night. Tim readily agrees, of course, and Rhys manages a smile at the other alpha’s reliability in trying situations.

He’s already had about half of the team tending to Jack ask if he’s okay, which was welcome at first but had annoyed him to the point where he’d had to growl out that they were treating Jack, not him. Rhys had been hit in the face enough over the years that being slammed into a metal floor wasn’t that big of a deal, and the incidental burns on his fingers from wielding the stun baton weren’t anything to write home about.

Sure, not many omegas could fend off a feral alpha, much less a feral alpha that also happened to be Handsome Jack, but Rhys hardly fit the stereotype. Still, he’d given a cursory nod and chuff in return to some concerned omega techs who had tried to scent away his anxiety, though most alphas and betas who had tried the same thing had been met with a glare and an order to return to helping Jack.

Said alpha was currently being restrained on the bed, hooked up to a sedative that was keeping him calm for the time being. The scientists had managed to figure out that the CEO had been injected with some very effective, very illegal form of alpha-targeted steroid. How and why such a thing had happened was still very much up to debate, as was how long it would take to fully flush the drug from his system and whether it would have any lingering side effects.

Rhys wasn’t exactly pleased about the lack of information, much less the fact that some low-life had probably tried to capitalize on Jack’s own alpha nature and drive it against him, but at the very least his mate was sedate and relatively safe and most importantly, not trying to force him down and mount him.

Rhys skated closer to Jack’s bed, worrying his lip as he watched the alpha’s muscles twitch involuntarily against his binds. Despite the sedative, Jack was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his temperature was still far too warm to be safely sustained for long. His breathing was also still way too fast, air hoarse in his throat as his chest rose up and down at a rapid pace.

A concerned growl left Rhys’ lips as his hand rested on the alpha’s bound bicep, softly stroking the too-hot flesh.

“Don’t worry…” Rhys mumbled, fingers tracing up Jack’s arm and shoulder until they came to rest over the alpha’s cheek, smoothing his sweaty hair off of his face.

“I’ll figure this out. I’ll help you. Just hang in there, okay?” Rhys whispered as he bent over to place a simple kiss against his husband’s forehead.

Confession time! I really like dub con with my fave characters even better if it involves bondage! The whole thing is appealing in theory, but I know it would be terrible IRL. Just had to get that off my chest lol

y’all know my opinion on the whole fanfiction v. reality thing, in my opinion as long as you tag your things properly and know its not good or romantic i’m not gonna rake you over the coals

and im pretty sure ive dipped into dub con more than once, so

In response to the post asking for songs and ships. I was gonna do this one myself, but I dunno if I’ll ever get to it, Pleasure and Pain – The Divinyls, with Rhack

just a reminder that these are really short, drabble writing warmups, if they don’t make much sense…

warning for voyeurism

Jack peered through the monitor brilliant and steady on his desk, display zoomed in on the scene the CEO is spying on. It’s one of the mid-level Hyperion breakrooms, sparsely populated with little more than a table with some scant doughnuts and a coffee machine, a fake potted plant, and a couple employees–Propaganda stooges, maybe? Jack didn’t really pay attention to much else other than one of the men standing in the room, leaning on the water cooler and resting one calf against the other long, attractive leg. 

Jack didn’t even know the kid’s name, he’d just randomly come across him one day while randomly flipping through Helios’ innumerable security cameras out of sheer boredom. Something in that sexy, slicked back hair, that confident smile and that height—seriously, the kid must be like what, sixty-percent leg?–had almost instantly caught Jack’s interest, and he’d been stalking the cameras around this office for almost a week now whenever he had a break.

Stalking…stalking…that was such a nasty word. Jack was…observing. He owned this whole joint, after all, who was gonna nag him for keeping his eyes on his employees, making sure they were doing their job properly? 

And if he starting rubbing his crotch while doing his “observing,” then well that was really nobody’s business. No one needed to know, especially not the kid. 

That’s what made it so juicy after all. 

Look at him, Jack thought, as he slid his hand into his pants, the button popping under pressure as he grasped his dick, smiling away like the boss totally isn’t jerking it off to his pretty face. 

God, what Jack wouldn’t do to rip those fancy, Hyperion-catalogue clothes right off, to push his dick right between those smirking lips and see those confident eyes water with tears as Jack choked him with his dick. Break that assertive little posture over his lap and smack that pretty ass until it was beet red and warm and ready to be screwed. There were sooooo so many things that Jack wanted to do to the kid, and he found himself wondering if he should just look up his name in the employee database already and call that cute little thing up to his office for a good old-fashioned performance review. 

But Jack was already coming quick against his own jeans to the image of the kid giggling along to some stupid joke, so all that would have to wait ‘til later. 

“Inlaid Gold”

Rhys tasted like fiercely guarded tenderness and the sweet of rosy honey sealed away for years and years, and it warms a fire in Jack’s greedy loins as he debates whether to tongue-fuck the kid now or wait and try to make Rhys feel the full force and stretch of his cock.  

His eyebrow quirked up as he noticed a twitch in his peripheral vision, his sharp eyes snaking up to see Rhys’ sweet little cock stiffening, the tiniest bead of pearly cum starting to swell at the tip. Jack snickered, his rumbling laugh vibrating through the young man’s loins as he kissed the skin next to Rhys’ balls.

“Oh? What’s this? Don’t tell me, sugarplum….do mommy and daddy know about your dragon-fucking fantasy?” Rhy’s face flushed bright red, grimace scathing even as his cock twitched under Jack’s hot breath.

“S-Shut up…I-I never thought that beasts like you could be….shut up…” he protested weakly, “I-I mean, I suppose if you want to have your way with me I….I might as well enjoy it…” He huffed, hips shifting towards Jack’s mouth as the dragon dared to flick his long tongue against the tip of Rhys’ cock, relishing in the small moan spilling from the prince’s lip as Jack lapped at the bubbling precum.

Dragon Jack/Prince Rhys Oviposition NSFW fic commission for @pumpkinpillars​ ! I hope you like it dear! It kind of got really long lol.

Warnings in this one for: oviposition, kidnapping, and dubious consent

Interested in Commissions? Message me! | Or leave a tip if you like!

Jack had found the pretty little thing wandering in the woods, atop an elegant white horse and looking so deliciously lost. He was lanky and elegant, auburn hair curled against his pale neck, flowing turquoise and gold robes draped about his body like water. Best of all, was the young man’s right hand, shyly gripping at the horse’s reins. It glinted in the light filtering through the leaves, showing off the golden knuckles and the runes engraved into the plated back of the hand. Jack could smell the magic on it, and it was making him salivate just as much as the sight of the lost little creature.

By his clothes, the young man was certainly of noble blood, if not royal. The plated hand with its intoxicating smell certainly spoke to a very wealthy, high-class upbringing. As did the cautious, meandering way in which he ambled his horse through the clearing.

His eyes flashed with fear every time a slight rustle sounded in the woods, scared as a rabbit. It was delightful to watch, and when he saw the young man lick his lips with a sweet little pink tongue, Jack resolved to have him as his own.

Not wanting to waste another moment lurking and watching, Jack exploded into his true form out of the underbrush, the scream of the his catch drowned out by the terrified whinny of his horse and Jack’s triumphant roars as tears the young man from atop his steed. His massive wings flap and flatten the grass and bushes of the small clearing as he takes off into the sky, leaving the tops of the trees behind him. The cries of his catch are distant, lost in the rush of the wing as Jack soars through the sky, claws keeping a tight grasp on the thrashing young man hanging below his bulk.  

Jack had a greedy fantasy building in his brain as he flew his struggling, screaming little cargo back to his mountainside lair. It had been a long while since he’d properly laid with a human, the dragon’s clear memory calling up the muscular form of a delightful young knight that he had ravished for days on end before draining the life from his body. He couldn’t wait to see this little morsel laid out underneath him, and once Jack was finished with him, that golden arm would look lovely resting limp and blood-splattered atop his hoard.

He cut through the sky like a fang through flesh, heading for the distant heather mountains shrouded in lingering fog. He beat his wings hard against the air, scales glimmering in the afternoon sun as he shot towards his lair, massive heart beating with adrenaline deep inside his chest.

His excitement at exploring his new prey cut the trip time in half, as Jack would usually fly at a languid pace, enjoying the view and perhaps tormenting groups of travelers or herds of livestock on his way. As the sun started to dip towards the horizon, Jack flew into the growing shadow of the mountain, skirting the tree-line until his sharp eyes found the deep blue entrance to his lair. It yawned into the side of the massive peak, flanked by ancient stone pillars mounted with torches of bright yellow fire that would burn long into the night. He landed on the rocky lip extending from the cavern, feet clattering against the stone as his fore-claws keep a solid grip on his prey. He can feel the poor thing shivering and shaking against his scaly palms, prompting the dragon to quickly amble down the vast tunnel ringed with torchlight to the main body of his lair.

The burning torches and massive, flaming chandelier hanging from the ceiling reflected light off the massive hoard dominating the room, making the gold glow like a warm sun and washing liquid comfort all the way down to Jack’s bones.

The dragon gingerly rested the little human down, laying him out over a softer spot of his treasure, where piles of silk and fine fur shielded his body from the sharp solid coins and spiny jewelry that comprised most of the piles.

Gods, that little thing looked just as precious splayed out over the heap of his hoard as Jack had imagined. His slim body, swathed in fluttering azure cloth, cut a soft curl against the glimmering bright of the mounds of treasure amassed over the vast floor of the dragon’s lair.

Jack quickly melted out of his dragon form, scales shedding into glimmering smoke behind him as he shrunk into a form perhaps more pleasing to the young prince’s eyes. As much as he loved the power and fear inherent in his massive dragon body, he also reveled in the sly, inky seduction he could command with his human form.

The remainder of his scales had wrapped about him like a cloak, clothing him in robes of gold and charcoal that exposed his smooth, tanned chest to the air. His wrists and neck were wreathed in jewelry, glimmering gold studded with obsidian and garnets that glint in the flickering torchlight lining the stone walls.

Thick, ribbed horns twisted from the top of his skull and swept back over his scalp, accentuating the striking profile of his long nose and chin. The horns themselves were cracked in bands, glimmering orange light shifting like lava in the crevasses. One blue eye twinkled like a cracked opal down at his catch, the other pearly white orb unseeing for now. The skin of his face was smooth and clear save for the glowing blue scar cutting in a violent V-shape over his features.

The rustle of his tail as it drags over the sleek cobblestone of the floor hisses throughout the echo of the chamber, prehensile end snapping up an errant strand of cord from the end of a random discarded tapestry cord. He didn’t want his little prize panicking and hurting itself trying to run away, did he?

He approached the young man he had deposited on his hoard, toothy smile building across his face as his catch struggled to right himself, to take in his surroundings and figure out what had happened to him. Jack expected his prey to roll over and show his belly like a doomed hare, transfixed in the eyes of the predator as he approached, binding cord curled up in his tail and vapor steaming from his teeth.  

However, despite Jack’s anticipation, the little thing let out an angry huff, propping himself up on both hands, before fixing him with the most petulant pout that Jack had ever seen, as if the dragon had merely scuffed up the boy’s shoes rather than kidnap him.  

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The young man spat, coins spilling down the side of the hoard as he struggles around, trying to gain traction on the unstable pile. Jack blinked, face blank with surprise as he watched the little creature fuss about.

“What I’ve…? Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve bagged myself a little prize. That would be uh. You.”

“Me? I am nobody’s prize. I am the prince.”

Ah. So the little thing was a prince. That explained the fancy arm, as well as the bitchy attitude.

“A prince, huh? Well, that only makes you more delicious.” Jack smirked, showing off more teeth and hoping that would intimate the little prince into properly respecting his current position. Respect the fact that Jack could basically tear him apart and scatter his corpse over the mountainside.

But Rhys merely narrowed his eyes in indignation.

“Idiot! Did you stop to think for a moment just who you were swiping up off his horse? You….you monster, my parents will have your head mounted at the gates for this!” The prince pointed a stern finger in Jack’s direction, as if he were scolding a disobedient dog. Jack let out a terse laugh at that, tail swiping against the stone floor, sending some errant coins scattering.

“My head? Oh that’s rich. You’re my prisoner, honeycake, the little rabbit caught in the claws of the wolf. Struggle less, and I won’t have to rip your throat out.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe not, maybe I’d just slit your vocal cords so I wouldn’t have to listen to your bitching,” Jack snarled, smacking aside Rhys’ accusing finger, “next time I’ll pick a less mouthy little cur to kidnap.”

“Crude thing…” Rhys hissed, kicking a shower of gold coins at Jack when the dragon skated closer. “Keep away! Don’t you curse me with your infernal touch!”

“Can it, will you princess?” Jack growled as he flipped Rhy over effortlessly, planting a firm paw against the middle of the prince’s back, keeping him in place as he looped the tapestry cord over Rhys’ crossed wrists. He pulled the knot tight, binding the young man’s arms behind his back, testing its strength with a long claw. Rhys struggled and shouted all the while, trying to kick back at the dragon in vain before Jack was turning him again on his back and pressing one heavy palm against the prince’s heaving chest.

“Get your claws off of me…let me go this i-instant!” Rhys huffed, though his wide eyes betrayed the growing helplessness that Jack knew must be gnawing at his resolve.

“Oooooh, sweet-tart, it’s cute you think you have any say in this…” Jack’s dark laughter echoed around the dense stone walls as he slides a clawed hand down his torso, tickling his already aroused excitement. He palmed his dick, smirking as it stiffened and pushed out from beneath his robes, the fabric parting like liquid as his member curls up towards his belly. His cock was thick, dark at the tapered tip and decorated with ridges running up and down the dorsal side. It was a handsome looking dick that he’s spent a fair amount of time with, and he just couldn’t wait to see the way it looked buried to the hilt in Rhys’ little body.

“No! Stop this at once, you monster!” Rhys let out an impressive little growl, for a human, but compared to Jack’s own dark laugh it was still nothing.

“Please, what are you going to do to stop it, babe? Go on. I dare ya.” Jack slipped out one long claw, drawing the tip over the front of the prince’s torso, watching with delight as Rhys’ belly and muscles twitched underneath the clingy silk.

“I….I…” The prince’s voice hitched pathetically in his throat, looking up at Jack with wide, limpid eyes that still held a bit of useless fight in them. Well, Jack would certainly have to take care of that until the little thing knew his place.

Ignoring his fidgeting, Jack pulled the hem of Rhys’ robe up and over his hips, eyes glimmering as he exposed the prince’s bared privates to the world.

“You royals too good to wear anything under your robes? Makes it easier for me…” Jack snickered as he reached between the prince’s legs, long claws skating over tender, untouched flesh. His nail tickled between the young man’s asscheeks, grasping one soft globe in his claw before lifting Rhys’ rear up off of the hoard to get a better view.

Jack honestly almost felt bad for the tight, pink little hole that greeted him when he spread apart the kid’s asscheeks, especially as his thick cock pulsed and dripped in arousal. Jack half-wondered if it would even fit, or if the kid would be too unbearably tight for Jack to have that much fun with. Oh well—if fucking the kid’s ass didn’t exactly work out, then well—he still had a nice little mouth that could use some stuffing.

Smoke curled wickedly over Jack’s lips as he grasped Rhys’ tightly by the hips, kneeling between the boy’s legs, relishing in the feeling of his hoard spilling against his calves and tail. His tongue flicked out over his lips, twisting and lapping along Rhys’ inner thigh as he dipped his head between the prince’s legs, wanting to taste him before he properly defiled the little thing.

Rhys’ legs shook and the softest, sweetest little ah whimpered from his mouth when Jack pressed the flat of his forked tongue against the delicate pink flesh of the prince’s hole, coating it in thick, draconic saliva.

Rhys tasted like fiercely guarded tenderness and the sweet of rosy honey sealed away for years and years, and it warms a fire in Jack’s greedy loins as he debates whether to tongue-fuck the kid now or wait and try to make Rhys feel the full force and stretch of his cock.  

His eyebrow quirked up as he noticed a twitch in his peripheral vision, his sharp eyes snaking up to see Rhys’ sweet little cock stiffening, the tiniest bead of pearly cum starting to swell at the tip. Jack snickered, his rumbling laugh vibrating through the young man’s loins as he kissed the skin next to Rhys’ balls.

“Oh? What’s this? Don’t tell me, sugarplum….do mommy and daddy know about your dragon-fucking fantasy?” Rhy’s face flushed bright red, grimace scathing even as his cock twitched under Jack’s hot breath.

“S-Shut up…I-I never thought that beasts like you could be….shut up…” he protested weakly, “I-I mean, I suppose if you want to have your way with me I….I might as well enjoy it…” He huffed, hips shifting towards Jack’s mouth as the dragon dared to flick his long tongue against the tip of Rhys’ cock, relishing in the small moan spilling from the prince’s lip as Jack lapped at the bubbling precum.

He pulled back, taking a quick glance between Rhys’ loosening, but still tight hole and the girth of his own cock curving to full hardness from between his robes. As much as he would love to make Rhys feel every agonizing inch of his cock, he’s starting to like the kid, and he’d prefer something inside of him not tear or rupture and leave him without one sweet sassy little captive. So, fine, he’ll give the kid a little appetizer before they get on to the main course.

He was pretty generous for a dragon. Rhys should be kissing his claws for this.

Jack’s tongue flickered back down to Rhys’ hole, the forked tip quickly wiggling inside of the tight little pucker. The prince gasped, squirming and sending coins and jewelry cascading down the side of the hoard, the little clinking and clattering of his treasure in tandem with his prize’s aroused movement making Jack’s groin flutter in warmth.

He pushed his tongue in as far as it could go, running the delicate fork over the prince’s twitching insides, tasting woefully under-touched territory as he opens the young man up, covering his stretched hole in thick saliva before he slides out. Jack licked his lips, smirking at the sight of Rhys’ cock, fully erect and red at the tip, trembling with barely contained lust.

“Easy, honeycake, don’t go off just yet, not when the fun is just about to start.” Jack laughed, giving the prince’s thigh a pat as he straightens up and grabs ahold of Rhys’ legs, tugging them around his waist. His rucked up robes continued to expose more of his skin as Jack manhandled him, the dragon catching sight of curious blue marks against pale flesh, something he was certain he would explore later.

Right now, however, his dick was practically crying for a chance to be buried in Rhys’ hot, shuddering little hole.

He pressed his claws lightly into the meat of Rhys’ legs, loving the give of flesh lovingly raised and pampered behind royal walls, now his to explore and claim. His dick shuddered, dripping cum all over the rucked up robes around Rhys’ waist as he dragged it down over the prince’s stomach to position at the head at his hole. Jack’s pupils slitted with lust, misty breath boiling over his fangs as he squeezed Rhys’ thighs and began to press the head of his cock against the prince’s ass.

“C-Careful!” Rhys squeaked out, body tensing up as Jack started to push in, his thighs trying to twitch close even as Jack held them firmly apart. The dragon himself was tensing at the tightness, the vice of Rhys’ ass clenching around him as he sought to bury himself in that tempting warmth.

“You’re going to ruin my robes…” Rhys whined, wiggling his hands against the tapestry cords binding his wrists together behind his back. He arched his body upwards, clearly peeved at having his spine pushed down into the warm metallic edges of Jack’s hoard.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to bite you, kid,” Jack snarled, licking his tongue over his fangs as the head of his cock finally popped inside of Rhys, “why don’t you just sit back and take my cock like a good little human?”

“I am, and that’s the problem…” The captive prince fussed, thighs trembling as he rutted back and forth against the member slowly pushing into him, “…it’s not my fault you’re packing a tree limb in your pants.”

“C-cut the attitude, you little punk, or I’m going to fuck you in my true form. You won’t have enough air left in you to keep bitching.” Jack grunted, punctuating his intent with a sharp thrust, burying half of his shaft inside of him.

“Nnngh….you wouldn’t…” Rhys panted, “won’t….won’t be much fun if you k-kill me….”

“Hmm. Guess you’re right.” Jack grunted as he eased the rest of his cock into Rhys, rubbing the young man’s cock between their bellies, trying to get the prince to relax enough to get the final fleshy knob of his cock inside of him. For the first time in his life he cursed his claws for their inability to properly fist the kids cock or finger-fuck without making his little prize bleed out. Thankfully, Rhys seemed to ease up enough for Jack to wedge the rest of his cock inside of him, his shrouded crotch finally pressed up against the prince’s tender backside.

The first couple of inches of thrusting were tight, Rhys’ body constricting around his cock and making it difficult for Jack to move and set up a proper rhythm. Jack grasped the young man’s hips in concentration as he rocked himself forward and back until he’d carved out a decent enough pace in Rhys’ ass. The prince’s body shifted and slide against the hoard, more coins and jewels flooding down the pile as Rhys scrambled for purchase against Jack’s thrusts.

“Ah….ah!”

Jack felt flushed with feral pride at the combination of Rhys’ moans and the chatter of his treasure, the sounds satisfying his most base, draconic needs. It brought out feelings in the dragon that had long been rendered dormant, and as Jack fucked harder and faster into the young prince, he felt something changing, shifting, heating up in his lower stomach. The sudden change in sensation caused a shudder in the dragon’s movements, Jack raising an eyebrow as he shot a dazed question at his crotch.

A startled hiss tore from his lips as he felt a torrent of fluid suddenly spurt from his cock, and for a moment Jack was offended that his own body had decided to come so early, but to his surprise the heat and tension inside of him only continued to build.

The feeling now blooming in his loins called back a distant memory, something long-buried underneath his pursuit of riches and technology now unfurling like a burning rope within him. It made prickles of hot and cold shudder up his spine, making his tail writhe against the floor as his hips stuttered, halting flush against the prince’s ass.

Rhys gasped in the sudden stillness, head resting back against the hoard for a moment before he slowly craned his neck to look at Jack, fixing the dragon with a blushing, puzzled stare.

“W-What’s wrong…?” He asked, voice already husky from sex.

“W-well, uh….I…oh…wasn’t really expecting this to happen…” Jack could feel sweat starting to bead on his brow, trickling down the side of his face. The movements in his lower stomach continued to twist, the long-forgotten yet familiar shapes pushing their way downwards towards the base of his cock. He bit his lip, claws tightening into Rhys’ hips as he felt the smooth, round shapes start to push out through his shaft, making it bulge out like peas in a pod. Rhys let out a shocked whine as the first object started to press against his already full hole, stretching him out even further.

“Nngh, what are you doing? What’s going on?” Rhys demanded as he grasped at Jack’s claws holding his waist, glaring down at where he and the dragon were joined. His eyes widened as he saw the large bulges working their way down Jack cock, a cry tearing through him when the first large lump was squeezed past his hole and pushed inside.

“Hhh….looks like you’re gonna become a mother, honeycake.” Jack hissed through his gritted fangs as the solid heat of the eggs pushed through his cock, relieved arousal flooding him every time one more was deposited inside of Rhys.

“S-Stop this! Stop this at once!” Rhys struggled to sound imperious as his insides were being pushed aside for the eggs sliding inside of him. He placed firm hands on his stomach, pressing down with both palms

“Oh, pumpkin…there’s no way to stop it once it starts,” Jack purred through a chuckle, hips thrusting forward as his loins continue throbbing with warmth. The eggs churned inside him as they began to squeeze out through his cock, the shapes bulging the shaft out as they stretched open Rhys’ hole. There was nothing quite as satisfying as hearing the bratty little prince’s breath hitch and hiccup as another egg shoved its way inside of him.

“Mmm, look at you, kiddo, not so slim and svelte anymore, huh? What would your parents say if they saw you all fat with my eggs?” Jack grinned with all his fangs as he traced his claws along the prince’s swollen belly, playing with the flesh, feeling as it plumps outwards with his offspring.

“Nnnh…no….this hurts…s-stop…” Rhys whimpered, crying out as Jack cruelly grasped his stomach, feeling the shapes of the eggs underneath his skin.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, no tears,” Jack cooed with false sympathy, licking the side of Rhys’ face with his long tongue, “there’s only a few more….dozen left…” He laughed harshly at Rhys’ pathetic whine of fear.

In reality, there was only four or five more eggs left in Jack’s clutch. He pushed them out in a rapid pace, the burning in his loins spurring him to get the rest of the brood out of him, sealing Rhys up with one more spurt of warm fluid that guided the remainder of the eggs firmly into Rhys’ body.

Jack braced one claw against Rhys’ chest, holding the limp prince as he propped him up and back against Jack’s chest. The prince let out a small whimper as he was forced to sit more fully on the knot sealing him and the dragon together, the pressure causing the tightly packed eggs in his middle to shift.

“Mmmm, not feeling so high and mighty now, huh kitten?” Jack laughed as he roughly cupped Rhys’ midsection, relishing in the kid’s pathetic, pained little whines.

“S-Stoooop, I’m gonna pop…” Rhys whimpered, trying to shift away from Jack’s harsh palm as the dragon rubs his belly.

“No you’re not, sweetheart, not unless I decide to gut you for being a disobedient little thing and let my eggs nest in your entrails.” Jack teased as he flicked a claw against the prince’s distended middle, making Rhys cry out in pain.

As much as Jack would like to stay up later tormenting the poor, prissy little prince, the laying and sex had tired him out, especially after his long day of roaming the woods. His loins ached, and sleep was pulling at his brain. So he let Rhys off the hook for now.

He snipped the tapestry cord with his claws, letting Rhys’ hands loose. The prince sags over to his side, body shaking with deep breaths as his hands cup his swollen belly, eyes wide and teary with fear. His chest trembled with distressed cries as he was finally able to feel just how much Jack’s eggs had wrecked his body.  

“Ugh….really? Look what you’ve done…you beast…” Rhys moaned petulantly, feeling the firm shapes underneath his fingers.

“Mmmm, you’re so nice and full, kitten. Really easy on the eyes.” Jack purred as he snaked atop his hoard, curling up around the gravid young man. He wrapped Rhys up in his arms, leaving the prince’s heavy belly unrestricted as he cuddled into his newfound little prize.

Jack had anticipated killing his little prize after sex, ripping that pretty arm off his body and mounting it against the wall, and yet now the dragon was far more invested in seeing his little tart brought to term with his clutch, if the young man’s body could take it. One way or another, Jack was content to let this all play out, rather than cut it down before the young prince had a chance to blossom.

Rhys was apparently far too exhausted to struggle or complain much further, his body simply sagging in Jack’s embrace and giving into sleep before the dragon too slipped into pleasant dreams.

To his surprise, Jack found himself pleased that the little prince retained his fire after being subdued and bred by the dragon. As annoying as the prince’s sass had been at first, Jack now found himself largely amused by it, laughing out loud more than once at Rhys’ spunky complaints and entertaining, if fangless, insults.

Jack had had plenty of pretty little toys and baubles, and it was a nice change of pace to have one with more personality.

He had let Rhys explore his lair with relative freedom, only sealing off the entrance with a massive boulder whenever he left to hunt or fell asleep. It wasn’t as if the young man could go very far with his current, egg-laden carriage anyway, and though he was confident the prince couldn’t get far even if he did escape the lair, he didn’t want his precious boy to fall down the side of the mountain and hurt himself.

The prince complained nearly every time Jack lavished his affections on him lately, whining that he was far too large to have anything near Jack’s cock pushing inside of him. When the clutch had been smaller, Jack had dismissed him, but at this point Jack was inclined to agree with the young man’s concerns. His belly had grown considerably from when Jack had first laid his clutch in Rhys, the shapes of the eggs now showing softly through his skin where before they had only been tangible. So he’d largely let up on penetrative sex for the time being, merely rutting his cock against the prince’s soft cheeks, or relishing in his slick mouth on the occasion where Rhys was willing and eager to pleasure him in that fashion.

Jack spent the majority of his time hunting—either for new treasure to decorate his pretty prince and lavish hoard with, or for food to feed himself and the surprisingly ravenous prince. At the moment, he was sailing through the air back towards his lair, two large bucks caught limp in his claws as he eagerly anticipated seeing Rhys once more. The boy had been sleeping when he had left in the early dawn, curled up on the bed of furs and silks that Jack had made for him atop the warm shimmer of his hoard. He had pressed a couple of kisses to the young man’s tender face and his rounded, silk-swathed belly, but the whistle of the wind and the isolation of the forest hunt had left the dragon craving again for the touch of his companion.

He briefly set down his kill at the lip of his lair as he landed, roughly yanking the massive boulder he’d planted in front of the entrance to the side, before picking up the deer and ambling down the hall towards the main chamber. His heart flourished and bloomed with warmth as he retreated back into the welcoming belly of the carven and the glowing splendor of his hoard—with his little friend perched on top.

For the past month or so since he’d been trapped in Jack’s lair, Rhys had found plenty of ways to busy himself aside from cuddling the dragon or sating his carnal needs. Jack had observed that Rhys was quite the tinkerer, enjoying fixing up some of the old clocks or broken jewelry that Jack had spilling over his hoard.

The prince’s most recent project was a small music box that hadn’t worked since the day Jack had brought it—swiped from a wrecked royal caravan from a far off desert land—that Rhys had plucked from the hoard and set about fixing. He’d been working on the damn thing for days now and still hadn’t gotten it to work, but gods if he wasn’t going to brush off all of Jack’s advances to focus on it, leaving the dragon scowling and kicking his feet up in the air like a bored dog.

He was working on the music box now, as Jack made his way into the room proper, gazing intently at the opened lid as it let out weak, warped creaks. Jack trotted to Rhys’ side, letting his kills fall from his claws as he shrunk down into his humanoid form, grinning sharp bloodstained fangs as he swept closer to the young man. He could see into the open lid of the music box, where a tiny, ceramic figure of an angel was struggling to turn. Rhys looked up, fingers briefly halting the work he was doing with a small, makeshift bone tool.

“Venison again?” Rhys scowled as he looked over to the bloodied dear carcasses Jack had slapped against the floor of the lair. “If only you would scavenge from my father’s private livestock. It would upset him but at least I’d have something better to eat…”

“Hey kiddo, venison is good eating. Besides, getting shot at by dear ol’ daddy’s guards wasn’t exactly something I was itching to do today.” Jack slinked past the two bucks, relaxing on the pile of treasure next to Rhys, the prince’s hands taking a now familiar spot atop Jack’s head, fingers scratching against his scalp and occasionally rubbing the base of his horns. A purr rumbled in Jack’s chest as he bumped up into Rhys’ hand.

“You’re just like the house cats at the palace…bringing me dead animals….wanting to be pet…” Rhys tutted as he stroked up and down Jack’s horns. A pleased grin curled over the dragon’s face, showing off the tips of his fangs.

“ ‘Cept I have a nice fat cock to fuck you with, sugarplum.”

“More like squish my insides around like jelly…” The prince sighed, setting aside the music box completely as he rested his palm against the curve of his stomach. Jack’s sharp ears could hear the soft tap of the eggs as they rustled inside of the prince.

“Speaking of…Is this going to be over soon?” Rhys hissed, one hand bracing against his swollen belly as he adjusted his seat, turning on his side to properly face Jack, “I’m tired….I’m as big as an ox…”

“In due time, honeycake. I’d say you’re…” Jack groped Rhys’ belly softly, the prince’s wince only making his grin widen. “Just about ripe, ayup.”

“S-Stop it…don’t you treat me like…like I’m some kind of fruit…” Rhys groaned, kicking out at Jack. The dragon merely laughed, shifting closer to Rhys’ as he nuzzled affectionately into the prince’s belly, which Rhys begrudgingly allowed.

The shapes of the eggs were standing out firmly in Rhys’ belly, so much larger than they had been when Jack had first fucked them into the prince’s body. The dragon let out a warbling purr, bristling with excitement.

It wouldn’t be long now before Rhys would lay his clutch.

It happened when Jack is out on one of his hunts.

Days previously, while he had been disguising himself in a local bazaar, he had heard word of a group of bandits who had uncovered a mine of Eridium ore in the Southern Hills. Curiosity piqued, he had left Rhys alone in the lair and flown miles to the alleged location, only to nearly be caught in some ramshackle rope trap. He’d been saved only by the shoddy craftsmanship, and while he had laid waste to the bandit compound and all those who had thought they could capture him, he was still seething at his own foolishness as he beat back the wind towards his own lair.

He had been hoping to relax with his companion for the rest of the evening after his troubles, but when he pushes aside the rock and enters his cave his ears are greeted only by the sound of screaming. Fear bolts through Jack’s chest as he gallops down the tunnel into the main cavern, eyes wild in concern as fire brews in the back of his throat, ready to incinerate whatever is causing Rhys’ pain. His eyes sweep over the hoard until they narrow on the prince’s form. Rhys is thrashing about in his silken nest, legs spread and one hand clawing at his stomach as the other grips tightly into one of the blankets. Before Jack’s eyes Rhys’ hole widens, a gush of fluid dripping from the prince’s ass as something large and glimmering and black as night starts to crown through him.

Oh.

“I-It hurts! It hurts, Jack, help please!” Rhys wailed, his voice bouncing off the warm walls of the lair. Tears coursed down the poor boy’s face as he futilely held his stomach, as if trying to force back the pain with his desperate fingers. Jack plummets out of his dragon form as he runs to Rhys’ side, clawed fingers grasping at one of prince’s hands. Fear and excitement twine in his chest as he looks down at his companion sobbing and twisting as he tries to push out the eggs inside of him.

“S-Shhh, pumpkin tart, it’s okay, just breath….just breath, okay?” Jack whispers, breathing deep and audible as he tries to get Rhys to do the same, to steady his hyperventilation and calm down. Rhys whimpers and leans into Jack’s touch as the dragon cards claws through his hair, before cupping his cheek in a warm palm.

“It hurts…it hurts so much…”

“I know it hurts, sugarplum. But you need to just relax and let ‘em come.” Jack purred, voice low as he pressed smoky lips against Rhys’ forehead, feeling how sweaty he was. His tail curled around Rhys’ thighs, helping them stay open as he encouraged the young prince to breath and push in rhythm with the contractions wracking through his body. Rhys blinked up at him

“I….It’s coming out…” He whispered, voice trembling on his lips. Jack gave his hand a firm squeeze, his hand moving from Rhys’ hand to his stomach, rubbing the stretched skin and pressing lightly when Rhys’ clenched his teeth and pushed with all his might. As Rhys’ muffled scream died away, Jack could hear the soft thump of something landing in the nest. With his claw still firmly clenched around Rhys’ hand, Jack peered between the young prince’s legs to a see a large black shape nestled amidst the bright red of the bedding.

“One down, you can do it, just keep pushing…” Jack encouraged, excitement thrumming through his body as he watched his companion lay the clutch. He helped Rhys when the prince decided to move, sitting up to get a better position and use gravity to help the movement of the eggs.

Jack felt Rhys’ belly again once three eggs had been laid into the nest, touching the remaining shapes amidst the deflated flesh.

“Only a couple more, honeycake, c’mon, you can do it.” He growled as he massaged Rhys’ belly, trying to edge more of the eggs down and out of Rhys as the young prince pushed.

Soon, there was a fine clutch of eggs settled between Rhys’ legs, cradled softly in the damp silks. There were seven of them, around the size of Jack’s fist and jet black on first glance. But as Jack peered closer to inspect them, he could see scintillating specks of light glimmering on the surface—fiery golds and reds dancing in the flicker of the torches. He let out a breathy laugh, lifting the limp Rhys up in his arms to lavish him with affectionate kisses and show off what he had done. Pride gleamed in Jack’s chest as he saw his offspring, birthed by his precious companion, laying amongst the splendor of his hoard.

It was a dragon’s dream come true.