1 . Name: Nothing Better To Do @ 2012-04-14 04:15

More sadly comical Sniper abuse, if anyone cares for it. Offers of how to improve my writing are very much welcomed.

I'm also working on a Medic/Sniper/Demoman one next. But Medic might end up just watching from afar.

---

"Piss."

Grimacing, Sniper inspected the knife wound across his thigh. Not too deep, not bleeding profusely, but damn, it hurt. He jammed a hand into the pack on his belt and whipped out a bottle of pills and some bandages. They'd provide a bit of relief for the time being. Two pills went down his throat; he wished he had something to wash them down with, but the only liquid on his person was Jarate, and he standards. Slightly trembling hands worked the bandages around his injured leg. The ceasefire siren blared across the field just as he finished. At least now he didn't have to worry about another BLU coming to finish him off.

With one last glare of disgust at the dead spy who had given him the bum leg, Sniper began the long journey back to base. At the halfway point, he encountered his team's heavy weapon's guy, busy collecting scrap and dropped ammo from the comically large pile of deceased enemies in front of him. Deceptively attentive of his surroundings, he turned at the sound of Sniper's approach with shotgun pointed.

Sniper threw up a hand. "Easy, mate. Just me."

"Sniper." Lowering the weapon, Heavy's eyes locked on Sniper's bloody, bandaged leg. "Comrade, you are injured! Here, let me help."

"Ah, it's all right." Sniper accepted Heavy's help anyway, knowing the leg would only feel worse if he continued on alone. The two made their way to the fort, Sniper resting his weight on Heavy's massive arm.

"Come, we go to Doctor." Heavy lead Sniper to the medical ward, and as they reached the large steel doors, Sniper couldn't help but feel an odd sense of ominous for foreboding.

He never really liked doctors.

"Doctor!" Heavy called, throwing open the doors with the light push of a single palm. "I have brought you injured man."

"Ja, coming!"

Heavy eased Sniper onto the closest examination table. Sniper's eyes wandered around the minimally furnished, amazingly sterile room, with its overbright lights and white walls. Innocent enough looking, he supposed. Not a place of much real comfort, but he'd dealt with far worse.

"Doctor will be with you soon," said Heavy, giving Sniper a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a broad smile. He left Sniper's side and disappeared into the room in back from where Medic's voice had come.

The pain in his thigh had dulled to a light throb. Fingers lacing and thumbs twiddling nervously, Sniper focused on the eye chart in front of him. He was distracted by the chart next to it, with its large and colorful depiction of the human male's sexual anatomy. He sniffed idly, nostrils pulling in the thick scent of various cleansers and chemicals. Low voices continued on in the back room, ending with a light chuckle which left Sniper slightly unnerved.

Heavy walked back out with Medic behind him. Medic held a large syringe in his gloved hand, its contents a pink serum.

"Ah, Herr Sniper! I see you have a wound," Medic said with a distressing amount of enthusiasm. He hurried to the table, Sniper's eyes locking onto and following the movement of the syringe, and ripped away the bandages in a very unprofessional manner, in Sniper's opinion. "Well, let me take care of that right away!"

"Um..." Wincing, Sniper shook off the pain of his disturbed wound. His eyes darted between Medic, the syringe, and Heavy. "What is that, Doc? Some kinda pain killer or—"

"Ja, ja, something like that." He motioned to Heavy, who, smiling, reached out and placed a firm hand on Sniper's arm. Perhaps it was only to steady it for the doctor, but Sniper couldn't help but suspect it was more to keep him from resisting or pulling away.

So Sniper didn't bother to, knowing if he did, his arm would surely snap like a dry twig beneath Heavy's vice-like hold.

Medic stabbed the needle into Sniper's vein, causing a split-second of new pain which distracted him from the leg wound. Nice, but a bit too brief. It still caused his eyes to momentarily roll in their sockets and the word "Bugger!" to pass between his lips.

"This is something new I have been working on, and I hadn't been able to test it out," said Medic, grinning in a way that made him look less sane than usual. "What a wonderful opportunity you have given me!"

Sniper swallowed hard. Previously untested drugs being shot into his blood stream? Definitely not something he would have consented to. Good thing the doctor hadn't bothered giving him an option.

He gave Medic the benefit of the doubt, however, and squeezed his eyes shut while he waited for whatever result the drug would have on his system. A few tense seconds passed, and he began to feel a warmth in his thigh. Warmth turned into a steady burning, but an endurable enough one. Gritting his teeth and stiffening, Sniper let out a groan. He popped his eyes open to see Medic and Heavy observing the condition of his wound with deep interest, Medic's mouth a thin line, and Heavy's a small 'o' of curiosity. Sniper forced his eyes to lower so that he might inspect the wound as well. Surprisingly, the drug had worked, causing it to seal itself up. Once the wound had closed, fresh skin covered it, leaving no trace of its existence. Not even a lingering bit of scar tissue.

Impressed, Sniper looked over his thigh, daring to poke a finger at where the wound had been and run his palm over the flesh. No pain. No soreness. Nothing.

"Well, I'll be stuffed! It worked." His eyes lifted to Medic. "Thanks, Doc."

Medic and Heavy's gaze had moved from the wound, but remained locked on him. A bit awkward. More awkward, Heavy hadn't removed his hand. In fact, the more Sniper attempted to move, the more pressure the hand placed on his arm. Sniper's mouth dropped open to voice a polite request for freedom, when all the blood in his lower body decided to suddenly divert straight toward his groin.

"Hnnng!"

Eyes wide and twitching, Sniper flopped on the table, his legs going into brief, involuntary spasms.

"B-bloody hell!"

Sniper's face grew flushed, every part of him warming with a sudden confusing and powerful arousal. His penis hardened almost painfully, straining against the fabric of his trousers, tenting them at the crotch. As he struggled on the table, Medic and Heavy watched with relatively neutral expressions. Sniper panted, his hand flying down to cup his throbbing groin, careless of the observers.

"F-fuck... What the... What the... hell's goin' on!" Sniper managed through his labored breathing. Unable to help himself, he rubbed his desperately aching groin. Through his haze of arousal, he shot a look of unmaintainable anger toward Medic. "What... did you do to me?" His emotions flashed briefly: panic, rage, frustration, all getting lost under the crushing dominance of overwhelming carnal desire.

Medic's lips slowly pulled into a grin of utter deviousness.

"So far, so good," he said, eyeing Heavy. His hand thrust out, pointing Heavy in the direction of the back room. "Heavy, fetch my supplies, bitte."

"Da, Doctor." Heavy turned on his booted heel and strode off to the back room, whistling a tune.

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth, Sniper fell flat against the table, squirming with helpless urgency, hands clutching his crotch. He needed something... anything. And soon. A hand wandered onto the exposed flesh of his thigh, rubbery fingers stroking him through the torn material of his trousers. It sent unexpected tingles of pleasure through him, and he wanted more.

"Don't fret, Herr Sniper. I will begin phase two of your 'treatment' once Heavy returns with my equipment." Now two hands placed themselves upon his hips. "In the meantime, allow me to relieve you of your trousers so I can get a better look at you." A far more sinister chuckle, and the hands moved to Sniper's belt.

Sniper laid back and did nothing but pant and stare at the ceiling as Medic removed his belt, boots, trousers, and underwear. Once the clothing had left his body, though, his hand shot toward his erection and made a grab for it. It was caught and held at bay before he could get anything accomplished. Sniper raised his head and peered over the tops of his aviators to see Medic smiling at him.

"Ah, ah," he said, placing Sniper's hand back on the table at his side. "Leave the work to me."

The loud clunking and shifting of various materials from within a box signaled Heavy's return. The box had been labeled "SEX TOYS" in black marker which had been crossed out rather sloppily. The new label below read "EXAMINATION TOOLS" in larger, more prominent letters.

"Here you are, Doctor." The box thumped onto the counter beside them, and something with a very long yellow cord fell out onto the floor. Heavy stooped and recovered it, pausing to turn it over in his large hands and examine it for a moment. It looked vaguely like a plastic banana with a power cord. It went back into the box.

"Danke, my friend." Turning his attention to the box, Medic reached in and rummaged. He pulled out a jar and popped off the cap, releasing a potent scent of what could have passed for vanilla into the room.

As Sniper watched, Medic dipped two fingers inside and swirled them around until they were adequately covered in the light purple cream. Medic handed Heavy the jar and grabbed Sniper's calf with the free hand, pulling his thighs apart. All Sniper could do was watch in mortified anticipation.

"Now," said Medic, smiling with poorly masked insanity, "Prepare for your examination!"

Medic spread Sniper's thighs further apart, and Heavy came around to the other side of the table to offer his own assistance. A gasp left Sniper as Medic's fingertip, full of cool lubricant, began poking around one of his many erogenous zones. Heavy's large hands gripped the underside of Sniper's thighs, lifting them to provide Medic with easier access. And, possibly, to prevent Sniper from squirming around too much.

Sniper's eyes squeezed shut once again, the slightest hint of a whine forcing its way up from deep in his throat. Medic's insistent finger circled his sensitive rim tenderly, spreading lubricant across it and generally teasing, before it began to work its way inside him. Little by little, it made its way deeper into his passage, stretching and worming as it pleased. After a minute or two of testing, the finger slid out and another joined it. They moved just the same, little by little, until Sniper's body accommodated. The fingers brushed his prostate, causing him to arch in Heavy's grip and let out a sharper gasp.

With that, Sniper attempted to struggle, but not because he wanted to escape. He wanted—no, needed—relief from the maddening ache in his cock. The situation calmed quickly enough; Medic's free hand wrapped itself around Sniper's penis and gave it a firm pump. An intense surge of pleasure coursed through Sniper's body, sensations having been greatly increased by whatever serum had been administered to him. He moaned loudly and relaxed for the while.

"There, there, Herr Sniper. Settle down," Medic cooed at him. Resting his other palm on Sniper's pelvis, Medic continued to move the fingers in and out of Sniper's asshole in slow strokes, ignoring the man's prostate.

Even with his prostate receiving little attention, Sniper was thrown into a world of intensely pleasurable stimulation. Still, he craved more, releasing low, needy keens. "D-Doc!" he finally blurted, his mind a mishmash of conflicting thoughts and emotions, clouded by drugged lust.

It all boiled down to a single desperate thought the longer Medic's finger teased him: he wanted... needed... to be fucked.

"Doc! P-please... Oh, God."

His grin ear to ear, Medic withdrew the fingers and moved back to the box. He dug out a rubber phallus of medium size and girth, and removed it from its clear plastic covering.

"Calm yourself, Herr Sniper; I understand. The drug will cause the individual under its effects to desire... much larger things inside of them than a simple few fingers." He tossed the wrapping onto the countertop and gazed at Sniper, lying before him so vulnerably, with an lecherous satisfaction. The crotch of his own dark trousers had tented, and he walked about quite shamelessly. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead. "Let us continue."

Heavy's tongue poked from the corner of his mouth, sliding across his lips, his eyes focused on the toy in Medic's hands. They followed it intently as it received a thorough coating of lubricant and made its way between Sniper's spread cheeks.

"Here we are."

Sniper gasped, his left leg jerking once. Heavy increased the pressure of his hold, though gently. Firm enough to keep Sniper in place while Medic pushed the dildo inside him, little by little. Cursing under his breath, Sniper found himself lifting and spreading his thighs for both Medic and Heavy. The slicked head of the rubber dildo worked its way into him steadily, and caused another sharp gasp as it popped through his relaxed ring of muscle. Medic wasted no time in pushing it in deeper.

"Oh, f-fuck!" Sniper's groggy world of sexual excitement exploded into further delight, a wash of new sensations assaulting his body. A pleasant feeling of fullness overtook Sniper as Medic slowly got the dildo all the way to the hilt inside of him. He bucked his hips and let out a loud, uninhibited moan of pleasure when Medic moved it around experimentally, withdrawing it quite suddenly almost all the way, brushing his prostate with the head. It slid back inside, attacking the spot then in gentle strokes. Sniper's moan became a pleading yell which dropped back into a needy whine.

Medic laughed openly. "Yes, yes! Now we're seeing results." He adjusted the position of the dildo and eased it back inside Sniper, forcing out another deliciously masculine moan.

"Sniper likes this treatment very much," Heavy said with a deep chuckle. "It was good thing he ran into me on field, eh?"

Medic responded to Heavy with another laugh. A few more slow thrusts of the dildo, and Medic withdrew it fully. Sniper's flailing hand grabbed Heavy's arm and held it for support.

"I think he needs more, Doctor." Heavy gave Sniper's thighs a gentle squeeze, providing a light amount of comforting sensation while Medic busied himself in his toy box, looking for something.

"Ja, ja." Medic looked over several objects within the box, humming and grunting out little noises of dissatisfaction as he picked and pawed through his collection. "Where is that infernal thing? I know I put it—ah! Here it is!"

He pulled out a small, thin plastic tool with a round head and a long cord trailing off the back. He plugged the cord into a socket on the counter and held the device out, thumbing up a button on the side. The little tool began to vibrate loudly.

Medic brought the small vibrating tool to Sniper's penis, placing the round head to Sniper's glans. Sniper squirmed once again, forcing Heavy to gather him back up and hold him steady. Medic gave Sniper a little genital massage, rolling the vibrating head of the tool around on Sniper's penis. It was enough to get Sniper's head thrown back, more gasps and groans exploding from his mouth. He clutched at Heavy's thick arm. Heavy chuckled once more and gave Sniper's right thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"Doc! Oh, fuck... fuuuuck..."

The vibrating head made its way down the underside of Sniper's penis, roamed along his testicles, and settled on his perineum.

"Fuck!" Sniper's hips bucked as much as he could manage with Heavy keeping him in hand. He let out a long, steady groan that ended in heavy panting. "Please... I want... I need... more."

"I have never achieved quite this kind of result before," Medic marveled, eyes widening. "Hm, I wonder..."

"Perhaps he needs the real thing, eh, Doctor?"

"You might be right, my friend."

Medic removed the vibrating tool and shut it off. A quick flick of his wrist sent it flying into the air and back into the box. Medic fumbled with his button fly, his once calm and controlled actions giving way to frenetic lust. He brought out his erection.

Under Medic's silent instruction, Heavy moved Sniper into position, swinging his legs out over the edge of the table. Sniper whined with impatience as he was forced to lay with legs dangling, Heavy's hands keeping him in place while Medic produced a condom and slipped it on himself. After lubing up, Medic grasped Sniper's legs and lifted them onto his shoulders. Relieved of his duty, Heavy moved off to one side so that he could get a better look at the action, still keeping one wide palm on Sniper's exposed belly, his shirt having bunched up during his struggles.

"Here we are, Herr Sniper," Medic purred, easing himself inside.

It wasn't long before Sniper was thrown into another fit of moans and gasping, Medic's thrusts slow at first, but increasing steadily in pace until he was pounding into Sniper and making the table thump.

"Oh, mein Gott... still so tight. Hold him steady, ja?"

Heavy nodded in response, his eyes locked on the hypnotic motion of rocking hips. He applied more pressure with his hand, keeping Sniper safely in place on the table. Sniper's eyes were shut tight, his mouth open but producing little more than soft pants and gasps.

After a few minutes, Medic regained his composure and his pace slowed. By then Sniper was close to orgasm, biting his trembling lower lip as he rocked his hips against Medic's thrusts, both hands clasped firmly on Heavy's arm. Heavy's fingertips stroked him lightly.

"Doctor," Heavy said, placing his other hand on Sniper's penis, having grown bored of being overall a non-participant in the sexual contact, "You think new serum will have same side effects?" He began to stroke Sniper, bringing him ever closer to climax.

"I... don't know," said Medic, breath deepening as he grew closer to his own release. "We won't know for sure until—"

As Heavy gave the tip of Sniper's penis a gentle squeeze, Sniper came with a sharp cry, back arching.

Panting heavily, Medic ceased his thrusting and observed Sniper, removing a hand from one of Sniper's legs to idly push the glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Heavy stared down at Sniper as well, releasing Sniper's softened penis and wiping his hand on the covering of the table.

Sniper's chest heaved, body thrumming lightly and heartbeat pounding in his ears. The drug still had a firm grip on both his mind and body, and he was peaceful for the time being, spent and satisfied. Slowly, his eyes opened and took in his surroundings. He found Medic and Heavy staring down at him.

"Herr Sniper?"

"...Uh?" He blinked, feeling slightly woozy. It felt like his legs were... elevated. Oddly. He opened his eyes again and tried to focus. ...Were his legs up on Medic's shoulders? What the heck was going on? He couldn't remember how he even got in this position. And why was his stomach all sticky?

"How do you feel?"

He felt weird. Really weird.

"I..."

Before he could string together enough words into a proper sentence, he started to hiccup. Dazed, he looked back to Medic, who was frowning. Medic and Heavy looked at each other.

"Scheiße."

Sniper groaned and attempted to raise his head up. "D-Doc? What's... goin' on?"

His question went ignored for the moment while Heavy and Medic continued their discussion.

"Maybe is only one side effect. Is possible others were worked out."

"Seems like he already has a bit of amnesia," said Medic, sighing. "But perhaps this batch finally got rid of the—"

Sniper's eyes rolled back; his head hit the table with a thunk. He was out like a light, and already snoring.

"—narcolepsy."

Heavy shrugged. "Sorry, Doctor. Maybe next time."

"Ja." Medic sighed more deeply. "Well, back to the drawing board."

---

"Uuugh. Me bloody head."

Sniper forced his eyes open and found himself in a cot in the medical ward. He had no idea what had happened previously, or how exactly he had gotten there. Rubbing the side of his head, he looked around, squinting into the bright lights. His aviators had been placed into his vest pocket, he discovered after a quick pat-down.

"Fuck happened?" he wondered aloud, blinking away the sleep.

Wait... it was coming back to him. He recalled thwarting a backstab attempt by an enemy spy, but the spy slashed his leg before dying. And then he ran into Heavy... who helped him the medical ward... and then... then...

Then what?

He couldn't remember.

But for some reason, he felt tired, even after having just woke up. Sniper stretched and yawned. He looked down at himself, inspecting the area where he had been wounded. There was no trace of it having existed, except for the slash in his trouser leg and a bit of blood still staining the fabric.

"Hmm! Guess the Doc got rid of my injury well enough." Sniper slid himself from the cot and stood up, heading for the door to exit. He ran into Medic who was on his way in. "Oh, hey, Doc."

"Ah, Herr Sniper! You are awake." Medic held a small box of something or other. It wasn't labeled, like all his other supply boxes usually were. "So... how are you feeling?" His eyes swept Sniper up and down in a quick assessment.

"Fine, I guess." Sniper's hands traveled down and slipped into his pockets. "Thanks for fixin' up me leg."

"You are quite welcome." Medic put on a pleasant though somewhat disturbingly cheery smile. "Well, if you'll excuse me. I have much work to do!" He slipped past Sniper. "Several batches of new serums to be tested. Yes, much work..." He disappeared into the back room, still chattering to himself in German.

"Weird fellow," Sniper muttered, heading out the door.

But his leg felt great, and despite a little lingering grogginess, so did he. Whatever Medic had done to heal his injury had worked wonders.

Well, Sniper thought after a minute or two, maybe doctors weren't so bad after all.