This is the kind of horrible crazy shit I write when there are no responsible adults around to make me stop. I could say I'm responding to some of the requests from the request thread, but the truth is that I'm just a sick fuck who gets off on some gross things. Hooray! Forewarning for unrealistic fanfic rape scenario, piss, and a lot of run-on sentences. Also Demoman appears, which isn't really a warning, but I thought I'd mention it because he needs moar love. ___________________________ Sniper didn't know whose bright idea it was to have eighteen men fight each other at night, often in the rain, and in such close proximity to deadly industrial machinery. He had long since given up on expecting logical decisions from his team's employers at BLU headquarters, though. The cost of keeping either cohort of mercenaries fed, equipped and (frequently) revived from the jaws of death, could hardly be equal to the monetary value of a dilapidated old sawmill. Yet there they were, battling for control of it again, and again, and again... “Bloody waste of time,†he grumbled, peering at the action through his scope. Some of the other BLUs nagged him for being scarce around the point in the main building, but you only had to be shoved into spinning blades once before you started considering safer fighting tactics. He felt they all would have accomplished more if they'd just stand back and let their RED counterparts get repeatedly julienned in the process of trying to hold the point. Not that he was sitting on his thumbs throughout each fight- the chaos at the scene of the fighting made for a lot of moving targets, but they were always more wary of close-quarters combatants and gleaming circular saws, than they were of his laser sight. To call them 'sitting ducks' would have been inaccurate, it was more like a slaughterhouse full of panicking chickens. He frowned, lowering his rifle and slinging it over his shoulder. All the coffee he'd been drinking helped keep him alert, but it always posed a distraction, sooner or later. Keeping around more than one jar of piss had always struck him as excessively neurotic, which meant he was going behind a woodpile. In the dark and the rain, Sniper doubted if anyone ever even noticed. Leaving the shed where he was camped, he wandered back to a disused outbuilding where some tall heaps of lumber obscured the view, then unzipped his jeans and tugged his dick out. As Sniper began to take a leak, he was startled by an electrical crackling noise, barely audible over the distant sound of combat. More startling was the sudden appearance of a RED spy, crouching on the dirt floor. His cloaking device had just been shorted out by the stream of urine from Sniper, and he looked at least as surprised to be found there, as Sniper was to be pissing on him. They stared at each other in mutual horror. The spy was the first one to react further. He scrambled to his feet, drawing a butterfly knife and growling, “Sacré bleu! You disgusting, snaggle-toothed voyeur... I'll kill you!†Sniper fumbled for a real weapon, a witty retort and his reflexes; under other circumstances he might be amused to find himself bleeding coffee down RED Spy's pantleg while the guy spit curses at him, but he was well aware that his pecker was an unfortunate thing to be holding when facing off with a knife-wielding opponent. By the time he drew his submachine gun, the spy had a forearm across his throat, and was pinning him against a high stack of wood. The gun fell from his hand, and Sniper was suddenly struggling to breathe as his RED adversary choked the life out of him. While he was squirming, Sniper thought to try shoving Spy away. The moment he lifted his hands, he realized he had left his midriff unprotected, and was rewarded with a knife to the gut. His tried to shield himself with his left arm and repel the attacker with his right, but pain and oxygen deprivation were making him weaker, if more desperate. Spy pushed against him harder, panting and scowling furiously, and Sniper was dizzily aware that the front of Spy's trousers were tenting against his thigh. A fresh jolt of alarm went off in Sniper's chest. Wide-eyed with panic, he gave the spy a sharp kick in the ankle, and managed to suck in a lungful of air during the brief window of distraction this gave him. It only seemed to enrage Spy further, though, and he could see the spook's grimace turn into an ugly smile as his view of the world got dark around the edges. Sniper clawed feebly at Spy's chest as lethargy overtook his body. By the time he realized he was being thrown to the ground, his limbs may well have been carved from stone, and the only thing he could feel clearly was the throbbing pain in his head. When the world started returning to clarity, Sniper found himself stripped naked, with something pushing his face into the mud. That something was Spy. The RED mercenary had tied his hands behind his back with some torn fabric, and was busily folding Sniper's knees underneath him so his ass would be more vulnerable. He groaned in despair and discovered he was gagged as well, a wad of cloth stuffed into his mouth to keep him quiet. “I really 'ave need to warn you about what I am about to do, but I feel ze urge to gloat,†came a voice from behind the BLU captive. He couldn't move without exacerbating his gut-wound, but there was no question as to who was speaking, anyway. Spy's hands were at his thighs, parting them roughly while he emitted sounds of objection. “You've defiled me for ze last time, bushman. I am going to make you suffer for every time you 'ave thrown your piss at me. When I am finished-†The man in red paused, pushing a thumb between Sniper's buttocks and drawing a choked yelp from him. “-I want you to remember everything I've done. Why, you ask?†Sniper groaned through his gag. He felt Spy grab the back of his head, and for a moment he was twisted to get a sidelong glance at the Frenchman. A lucid, humorless sort of sadism was etched onto Spy's face. Then he saw a flash of teeth, and he was suddenly driven face-first onto the floor, wincing as mud was forced up his nose, into the corners of his mouth; everything seemed to stink of urine. When the pressure eased off, Sniper writhed in spite of his injury and tried to clear his airways, desperate to keep himself from suffocating. The RED spy laughed harshly. “I want you to remember, because if you ever do zis thing to me again, I will inflict punishments twice as 'orrible as ze one you are recieving now. ...and I would hate to do zat.†Something hot and hard was pressing against Sniper's back door, and even before the pain could start, he was wriggling in a vain attempt to escape his fate. Then Spy rammed his dick up Sniper's woefully unprepared ass, and everything seemed to explode into white light. The gag reduced his screams to a low, muffled bawling noise. Sniper's body bent-double with each thrust, forcing more blood and sickening agony from the stab in his belly, and from the fresh wounds Spy was tearing inside him. He tried to clench his anus to dissuade the assault, but it only intensified the RED agent's wrath. If Sniper had the option to beg for mercy, he might have considered it. Death would be better still, as the respawn system would strip him of every humiliating mark and leave him only with memories to deal with. Spy didn't seem to be keen on giving him either, though. With one hand grabbing Sniper's hip and the other his messy hair, the RED spy raped him savagely. About the time he started feeling faint from blood loss, there was a shuddering groan from behind him, and Spy ejaculated into his ravaged guts before finally withdrawing. Sniper knew the mud on his face was probably more obvious than the tears, but he could feel burning shame creep over him as Spy dragged him up by the hair. Then the gag was removed quite unexpectedly, and Sniper found himself propped with his back against a woodpile, choking and spitting to eject the cloth from his mouth. It was a balled-up sock. As soon as he realized he could speak again, Sniper glared up at the other man and began spouting obscenities. “Fuck! You bloody arse-fucking French pig! I'll tear your head off and fuck the bleedin' hole, you twat! Y'think you've got me beat?! Panty-eating son of a bitch, you've crossed the wrong-†A coughing fit cut off his tirade, and he struggled to break free of his bonds while his breath came in hoarse, hitching gasps. Spy just watched for a few moments with an expression of amusement, then suddenly grabbed Sniper by the nose and wrenched his head back. “You thought I was finished with you, you despicable jar-man?†Realization dawned on the BLU fighter, but the pain of his injuries limited how much he could struggle, how long he could hold his breath before the hand on his face left him with no choice but to open his mouth. Without further explanation, Spy loomed over his captive and gazed casually into Sniper's furious eyes, lifting one knee up to nudge the sharpshooter's face towards his crotch. He leaned his shoulder against the wall so he had a hand free to grab his dick. Then the RED spy took aim, and emptied his bladder down Sniper's throat. BLU Sniper gagged and squirmed helplessly, but his desperation to breathe was stronger than his revulsion at the situation. “Drink it down, bushman, I'm certain zis isn't ze first time you've consumed filth to survive.†Spy's cool smirk was relentless, as was his grip on the other man's face; it was only after the last of his piss had been swallowed, that Spy finally released Sniper's nose. He picked the muddy sock off the ground while his captive took a few choked, agonized breaths, then stuffed it in the sharpshooter's mouth and tied a gag over it once more. Spy smiled down at Sniper while he doubled over, heaving painfully. “Well, I 'ope zat was an educational experience for you. Next time you 'ave ze urge to throw your bodily fluids on me, you'll be wise to reconsider, hmm? Au revoir!†Before Sniper could acknowledge what was happening, the RED spy had shoved him face-down in the mud again, and was walking away. Now Sniper was starting to feel hysterical. He was shivering from the cold, his stomach was roiling in agony, and while painful, his wounds were probably not life-threatening. With the fighting still clearly audible, it could be hours before anyone even noticed he was missing, and he was scared to imagine what might happen when they did. Hoping that a stray grenade might do him in was wishful thinking. As he lay there in the mud, Sniper closed his eyes and groaned, then began the possibly futile task of getting his hands free. Minutes and hours blurred together as the fight wore on. Sniper began slipping in and out of consciousness as blood loss and the night's chill mounted, turning everything into a wretched fever-dream. At some point he awoke to the sound of footsteps, and realized the battle was over. Summoning all of his strength, he managed to give a muffled scream for help before the pain reduced him to a bout of coughing. The footsteps drew nearer. He hoped deliriously that whoever it was could find him in the dim light, and eventually he heard a voice. A curious, somewhat slurred voice. “What's this we 'ave down here? Someone bound up, arse-over-teakettle? Well now, et seems like someone weren't too fond o' you, sweetheart... let's 'ave a look-see...†Sniper realized it was one of the demomen, but he had no idea which one- RED or BLU? In the dark, it was entirely possible that this wouldn't make a difference. As the other man kneeled behind him and began violating his anus with a curious finger, Sniper became dismally aware that to a drunken, one-eyed Scotsman, he probably just looked like something to fuck. He whimpered in pain and squirmed, eliciting a chuckle from the demoman. “How long have y'been waitin' for me, all trussed up like a bloody Christmas turkey? You dirty girl, ah know what ye need.†At the sound of Demoman fumbling with a zipper, Sniper gave a despairing moan. Then he felt hands on his back, a great horse-choker of a cock being pushed between his thighs, and the warmth of a human body against his. After several hours of lying naked in the great outdoors, he was beginning to suffer exposure, and Demoman's body-heat brought a wave of physical comfort that Sniper hadn't been expecting. He shivered and tried to wriggle closer to the other man, desperate for more contact. “Didn't expect you'd be wantin' te take all of me at once,†Demoman purred, pressing up against Sniper's trembling form and reaching down to grope his flat chest. A little sob of pleasure escaped his throat; he could feel Demoman's prick rubbing against his own awakening genitals, and the Scotsman's fingertips were abusing his nipples, setting off warm shocks with each pinch and twist. Soon they were writhing together, Sniper's pain temporarily forgotten, as lifted his ass like an animal in heat and let Demoman rut him wildly. A hand began to pet his erection in rough, approving strokes, pausing now and then to tease the frenulum as though tickling it on the chin. The BLU sniper howled through his gag as he was brought to climax, spurting a thick ribbon of cum against his underbelly. Demoman's breathing quickened, and even as he sagged underneath him in a daze, Sniper was distantly aware of the other man's release. Sniper was gripped by the cold as Demoman climbed off of him, and he suddenly felt with awful certainty that he would be abandoned again. He shook his head frantically, and tried to make sounds that might be understood to mean 'wait!!!' Then he felt something tugging at his wrists, and a moment later discovered he was unbound. As soon as the gag was pulled off his face, he scrabbled to remove the sock out of his mouth before it could make him retch. Choking and gasping, Sniper flopped onto his side and struggled to regain some of his composure. He was filthy, shaken and miserable from the ordeal, but at least he was free now. Demoman hooked an arm across Sniper's back and hauled him to his feet, unaware that he'd lost a lot of blood. As the naked man began to slip from his grasp, Demoman latched onto him in surprise, and gave him a shake. “'ere, lad, I weren't that rough on ye... snap out of it!†Sniper moaned unconsciously, but didn't stir until a few moments later, when the Scotsman carried him outside and dumped him in a shallow pond. The shock brought Sniper back around, and he gave a hoarse yelp of surprise. “Augh, fuck!†He clawed at the edge of the pool and started to get out, looking more amphibian than man. Demoman laughed until there were tears in his eyes. “Ah knew that'd get ye back on your feet,†he said, still giggling as pulled the glaring marksman from the water. Demoman suddenly shuffled his flak jacket off, and helped Sniper into it. “Here, you're lookin' a wee bit cold... I don't know what you lads on the BLU side've been drinkin', but maybe ye'd best be headin' back now. Cheers, mate!†As the RED demoman walked off into the night, Sniper staggered over to the nearest vertical object he could see and grabbed it for support. Finding something he could use to kill himself would make for a shorter trip back, and less awkward questions. As Sniper recovered his balance, though, he was feeling more and more determined to return under his own strength. He took a deep breath, then started towards the BLU camp. “Next time I find that RED spook,†he muttered ruefully, “I'm gonna' throw a jar of acid on him.â€
Hooray for sick fucks like us! This has certain, kinks, that interest me. However, certain parts are slightly... not right. I will go into detail much later. When I can read it again. *waggles eyebrows*
Well, I'll be. Haven't gone from chuckling to wincing to squirming and wanting more in a... well, never. I agree with Maelgwyn, there is something.. off about some parts. But for me it was more of the fact Sniper's pain from a gut wound like that seemed a bit distant at times. I know it was meant to be there, amongst his feelings of pleasure, but.. I guess it just seemed like he could cast it aside at some parts. Still, it was bloody (oh, the irony) awesome, so do keep it up!
Lets pull this apart just a bit and see what I get to. I love the idea of power play. This, in essence, is a bit of Power PWP. And as such, I like it. This power however, is not quite right. In a true (between trusting adults with boundaries) power play, you will have one usually relinquishing their power to another willingly. Think of a fairly stereotypical light to heavy bondage scene. You sort of do this. In a non-con sense, you have the aggressor rip that power from the person. Its shameless and incredibly feral. This doesn't have that feel. I almost expect the spy to come back and cuddle and crap, which would have ruined it. The Spy could humiliate the Sniper for degrading the Spy by such a disgusting act. He would be calling him things to erode his sense of right and wrong - such as telling him how disgusting he is, how much he loves it, yada yada yada. You also have a wound, I would expect a character like the spy or the medic to capitalise on it. They're currently feeding off of the emotions of the hostage, you need to make that more apparent or at least defined. The Spy is not just doing this 'to teach him a lesson'. (Note - Ive done all of these premises before and failed horribly - so don't think I am throwing the stones in a glass house, cause in the end, you write exquisitely and it has that glimmer in the back there) The RED spy laughed harshly. “I want you to remember, because if you ever do zis thing to me again, I will inflict punishments twice as 'orrible as ze one you are recieving now. ...and I would hate to do zat.†That line there is a good example of the almost got it but not quite. The Spy would be mocking, that is true, but I read that almost apologetically as well. Theres a certain disconnection of the power flow here. You need the Sniper to always feel as if he has been beaten, and thats hard to do - unless you're like me and can sort of occupy the head space of the aggressor. It would be easier to write this more as the victim. Also, a rape without some kind of lubricant would be incredibly painful for both people. Mind ruining, surgery necessary painful. Most of the people who do that kind of thing have got a strange pain tolerance. If its intentional - exploit that. Have Spy bite, scratch, slap, cut, tease his open wound. Make him force the Sniper to do what he wants. Because *he* has the power. That would be more in line with what you wanted to achieve for me (had an ex that loved being bitten when in play mode - and I mean bitten till he bled. It was certainly different). Otherwise, the Spy would be more likely to make the other person want it, to perverse their viewpoint to his way. The golden shower was pretty tame. I would expect the Spy to be marking his territory more than convenient toilet. The former is to break a person, the latter is to a broken person. And the Sniper would not break quite that easily, methinks. The Demoman part feels very under appreciated, and kind of tacked on. He is giving the Sniper something he wants (heat) but is also taking advantage of someone who has been rather brutally raped. Those kinds of injuries would be rather overwhelming. Unless our Sniper is a very kinky man with a very high tolerance to pain, and has been in this sort of situation before. Plus, he would be craving dignity and the feeling of safety. He's not dignified, and would not be feeling safe. Therefore, he would still be on edge, which I would use good ole fashioned voices in the head to further degrade the Sniper's psyche. His eventual release, so to speak, would be terrifying for him, as well as feel dirty that his body would ever like that kind of thing. Overall, I'm going to say that I like it. It has potential to be so much more devious, so much more primal and vicious. And that little part in my head absolutely loves it for that. It just falls short, for me, to that level of humiliation that I would expect from that kind of circumstance. But in saying that, some good ole fashioned smut in a vein I quite honestly adore. So kudos for the guts to do it, don't let me be the one to stop you, but some of that is from a personal viewpoint that not many people would be exposed to. Meanwhile, maybe I should write more S/M... yeah why not...
I agree with a lot of the psychological aspects >>4 pointed out, but I would like to add that i LOVE that the RED spy was a vicious asshole (though he could have been more nasty) and RED demoman was more mild. I almost forgot while reading the ending that demoman was raping sniper. I don't know if that was what you intended, but the 180 was jarring in a fun way for me.
Aaah, you took the time to write all that?! Now I feel embarrassed. The story was (in essence) PWP cheap thrills material; not showing much of a window into the victim's thoughts was an intentional choice I made, mostly because I wanted to keep this something quick'n'dirty, as opposed to approaching it in a way that would emphasize the psychological trauma someone would suffer. (If I wanted to do justice to that kind of a story, I don't think I could pull it off in a quick one-shot... as soon as I get into detail about people's thoughts and feelings, I seem to stretch things way out). That said, I do appreciate the constructive criticism! If I ever decide to write a more dramatic, hurt/comfort rape scenario, I'll definitely look back what you wrote. ...now I'm wondering if I didn't write the second dirty bit clearly enough. There wasn't supposed to be penetration taking place, just the old-fashioned princeton rub.
Heh dont apologise! I loved writing it! And then I get more ideas. *sigh* “Didn't expect you'd be wantin' te take all of me at once,†Demoman purred, pressing up against Sniper's trembling form and reaching down to grope his flat chest. A little sob of pleasure escaped his throat; he could feel Demoman's prick rubbing against his own awakening genitals, and the Scotsman's fingertips were abusing his nipples, setting off warm shocks with each pinch and twist. Soon they were writhing together, Sniper's pain temporarily forgotten, as lifted his ass like an animal in heat and let Demoman rut him wildly. A hand began to pet his erection in rough, approving strokes, pausing now and then to tease the frenulum as though tickling it on the chin. Thats the bit that I misinterpreted. Frottage is something so hard to write - so when I read it again, I completely got it *laughs*. And I know, you be good for more in this vein - get rid of consenting adults - I will totally just egg you on for more!
I don't have much to say about this one, I just find rape overused and boring. However I feel the need to ask this question. Do you know how hard it is fucking someone in the ass, especially someone who hasn't been before, without any form of lube. A asshole is pretty tight, not loose enough to just slam a dick into it at lest. In real life you would either need fingering a lot or lube of some sort, otherwise you would just end up dryhumping.