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File 126129116045.jpg - (148.72KB , 743x800 , 126056939492.jpg )
8269 No. 8269
Just a little something I cooked up over the course of a few nights this past week. An explanation of Humon's BEAUTIFUL art piece, of Medic and Heavy, and a very sated, shivery Sniper. (pic related, obviously)

Please don't expect too much in the way of fiction magic. I've been overworked, overstressed and undersexed lately. I blame my girlfriend. -insert guffaws here-



-------------------
He wasn't sure how it happened, or even how he managed to let it happen, but Sniper scowled at himself, embarrassed for his normally decent sensibilities and angry at himself for falling into their trap.

'It is just a zimple experiment, Herr Sniper. Ve need a volunteer und you vere zer only one zat ve sought vould agree to it.'

Days after being confronted by the psychotic German, Sniper had agreed to it and was given the time and date, plus some restrictions on what he was able to eat the day before the experiment. The usual details given to a patient who was to undergo blood tests, or so Sniper thought.

Tied down immediately after he entered for the appointment and held against his will; fed drugs through a rather large syringe that Medic had sworn were only antibacterial agents. How gullible could a man be? Once the drugs had taken their toll on Sniper's senses, his bonds were released and another presence stepped into the infirmary, the deep chuckle of the team's Heavy filling the air.

“Leetle gunman vill help, Doktor?”

“Ja. Now, hold him as ve discussed.”

After being undressed from the waist down and left in only his white undershirt and coloured polo, Sniper was made to sit up as if in a chair and Heavy scooped an arm around his body, allowing him to curl over his arm if need be. The other hand was curled up and under Sniper's left leg, both to keep his legs apart for the experiment and to help restrain him, so that he could not lash out at Medic with his legs, if the drugs wore off unexpectedly.

“Perfect. Hold him firmly but carefully, ja? Ve don't need him being sqveezed do death, do ve?”

Heavy shook his massive head and moved his legs to stand more comfortably, aware that he would be in the same position for quite some time, while Medic performed his odd little tests. The gargantuan Russian was in on the surprise, however, and he grinned with sickly delight as Medic fetched a large syringe made for filling jars and bottles with thick liquids, its open tip already dribbling the opaque goo that the doctor used as a surgical lubricant.

He stepped up to the front of the table where he could face Sniper and carefully parted his buttocks, pressing the tip of the wide syringe inside and with a swift press of the plunger, filled him with the entire contents and then removed it to be set aside. The relaxed nature of Sniper's body caused some to leak from the ring of lax muscle and Heavy returned Medic's grin, when the German turned away to the stand behind him and then back again, a small uncapped bottle in one hand and a pair of much thinner latex gloves covering his hands.

While not entirely unconscious, Sniper groaned when Medic first pressed his finger into the tight hole, his fangs showing as his lips curled back and he hissed softly. It could not have been from pain, as his muscles were sufficiently relaxed and Medic licked his lips excitedly, eager to see the outcome of his perverted little test.

He had first discussed it with Heavy earlier that week, when the larger man was asking about the sharpshooter. He knew the Aussie was a dangerous man without many ties to the outside world other than his parents, but he was also personable and friendly to talk to, so he was suggested as the best man for the job Medic had mentioned.

'I vould like to see how far I can get vis him, arousal-vise. If I can get him to release, zat vould be perfect. I have not collected a zample of his fluids yet und I zink zis vould be an appropriate vay of doing it.'

Heavy had only nodded and as Medic's lover of choice, the burly Russian went along with the job he had been given, gently cuddling the Aussie against his chest as he held him in the oddly comfortable position, keeping him close enough to the far edge of the table, that Medic would not have to struggle to touch him.

Sniper let his eyes fall closed when he felt the twinge of something far from pain register from below, two of Medic's fingers buried deep inside of him, while the doctor's other hand had gently taken up the Aussie's cock and was stroking it with medical precision, the thin latex smooth against him. It pulled occasionally at the hair that covered his groin and balls but he ignored it in favour of the comforting, hazy feeling the drugs had created.

“He is happy, Doktor,” Heavy grunted out, the beefiness of his arm giving the smaller man something to rest against, while his hand was still free to rub soothingly over the Aussie's chest. “He purrs like big cat.”

Medic could hear it too, the gentle murring sound that came from the normally stoic sharpshooter. With the addition of a third finger, he was certain that it would be inevitable that the slimmer man would ejaculate and he anticipated it by moving the small bottle closer to his work space, again taking hold of Sniper's cock and stroking him with more intensity.

The once-tight ring bore down with vicious strength and Medic whispered something in German, no doubt a curse of some sort, finding the tightness rather interesting and wishing it had not been his fingers receiving the delightful squeeze. He continued to stroke the gunman and removed his fingers from the man's ass quickly, the slick hole oozing lubricant onto the stainless steel tabletop while he snatched up the bottle and slipped it over the man's cock, just in time to catch the first tiny dribble and the other, more intense spurts.

There were barely two tablespoons' worth inside the little glass bottle and after Medic removed it to be set aside someplace safe, he scowled at the amount. Surely a man who did not engage in sexual activities with any of the other team members would spend his seed in private, masturbating to some distant memory or a fantasy of a teammate he would rather not touch in real life, but for the amount Sniper gave, he must do it daily, if not multiple times per day.

“Is leetle amount. I think Sniper has boyfriend, Doktor.”

“Nein,” the German answered, turning away and leaving the pair to gather more items he would need.

He returned and once again took his place across the table, his clean hand reaching out to gently caress Sniper's cheek, wiping away the tiny bit of sweat that had appeared over the drugged gunman's brow. Heavy noticed the loving gesture and frowned a little bit, earning a loving smile from the dangerous doctor. They shared a love deeper than a physical one and while Heavy had nothing to fear, he was still a brutish and jealous creature.

The case the German had brought over was flipped open and Heavy stared at its contents over the gunman's shoulder, a knowing smile widening on his already broad face.

“Sniper vill like dis,” he said softly, as if reassuring the drugged Aussie, the beefy hand holding the Sniper across the chest rubbing in a soothing motion.

“Of course he vill like it,” Medic sneered, picking up the first part of his contraption and coating it with surgical lubricant, the slithery goo dripping from the glistening steel to the table top.

Sniper's eyes fluttered a little bit and his mouth dropped open as Medic leaned over to press the bulb-shaped item into the gunman's hole, pushing with a good bit of effort since the lubricant was so unnecessarily slippery. Once the widest part had passed the nearly tearing ring of muscle, the slim body took the rest in greedily, the flanged end nudging comfortably against the opening.

Heavy lifted Sniper's leg a bit more, so the area between his legs could be exposed with less bother to the man's backside, the stainless steel surface already warmed through from his body heat and he hissed when his left cheek touched a cold spot, earning himself a cluck of the tongue from Medic and a slap against the steel flange.

Sniper cringed and moaned unknowingly, his body still filled to the brim with narcotics Medic had injected into him. Even Heavy had expressed concern when they had discussed it days before, but the German had assured him that the dosage was appropriate for a man Sniper's size.

“Zere, zat vas not so bad, vas it?”

Sniper's head lolled back against Heavy's chest and the wide Russian shifted his position so the other man would be comfortable above his waist as well, the back of Sniper's shirt still down over his back so he would not be chafed by Heavy's rough clothing.

Medic picked up a small device with two sets of clip-on prongs; one red and one orange, as if the colours actually meant something. He clipped the red to the flanged end of the steel dildo and clipped the other to the small rod protruding from the device, carefully flicking the green switch and then ramping up the dial below it, starting with a low current to see what the effects would be.

The Aussie immediately moaned out loud, the sound echoing in the enclosed infirmary. Heavy looked surprised, as if he had hurt the man somehow, but the gentle writhing of Sniper's hips was enough of an explanation.

The lower the dose, the less arousal and more frustration the gunman would feel. As Medic ramped the dial up to a higher level, Sniper's body twitched with excitement, the gently arcing steel bulb pressed firmly against his prostate and bumping it with each shift of his hips.

“Look, mein Liebeling,” Medic called the Heavy's attention with a loving appellation, pointing to Sniper's loins. “Zis is vorking vonders, ja?”

Heavy grinned and licked his enormous lips, slightly envious of the skinny Aussie, knowing full-well what the sensations would be. He had enjoyed the German's electro-ejaculation device before and while it left some seriously draining after-effects, it felt incredible while being used upon the body.

“Da, Doktor. Maybe turn it up. It it not enough yet.”

Greedy, Medic bent down towards Sniper's groin and licked up the small bead of ejaculate that had appeared, smacking his lips and giving the very tip a light kiss. Heavy rumbled his disapproval of the loving gestures and frowned, aware that Medic loved only him and was a sucker for the taste of the seed from other men, but he was almost angry at himself for agreeing to the doctor's request for help.

Sniper groaned something that may have been words, but his mouth was dry and his head was muddled from the drugs, leading him to only slur unintelligible vocalizations that could hardly be considered a language of any sort. It became especially apparent as Medic amped up the juice a little more, jerking the dial higher and then backing up with it, repeating the process to create a pulsing formation, teasing and bringing the slimmer man off.

The Aussie's hips jerked as his cock began to dribble the precious fluid a second time, this time in weak little bursts that did not shoot out onto the table, but rather coasted down the underside of his member, gathering for a mere second on his sac, where the first drop fell into the container Medic placed there.

Like a low dish, the container would catch much more than the bottle and he could transfer it over to the bottle afterwards. The more he teased at Sniper's inside, the more semen oozed from him; slow and sluggish, his cock drooled the viscous liquid, the base of it pulsing as if forcing it out with half of the effort it normally required.

Milking, as Medic called it, was a form of both scientific and medical collection of semen samples, and a form of fetish-based torture, usually used by someone on his or her less-than-willing slave. As a close comrade in team-name only, Sniper had been elusive about his medical check-ups and providing samples to Medic for his research, so with a sample the size he could collect this way, Medic would never have to bother the gruff gunman again.

“It is stopping, Doktor,” Heavy groaned out, the small gyrations of his own hips moving the smaller man's form, the movements an obvious indication that he was as aroused by the situation as Medic seemed to be.

The front of the doctor's pants had bulged over the last few minutes and Heavy eyed it hungrily, then looked the German in the eye, silently promising some fun of their own later in the evening.

“Ve vill stop, zen.”

The moment the juice was turned off completely, Sniper growled behind clenched teeth, his fangs glinting from his blush-pink gums. Medic held his breath as the slim Aussie shifted his upper half to the side, draping his left arm over Heavy's forearm, feeling incredibly drained and unsure of why. The drugs had not simply worn off, but with completion, the body's hormonal levels seemed to either dip or rise, causing the fluctuation in mental state.

He blinked and Medic carefully unclipped the device and set it away in its protective case, gently removing the bulb from the spent body as well, but turning away to set it in the sink to be washed before being put away. Heavy still held the shivering Aussie, smiling down at the back of the man's head, feeling an almost caring nature towards the man, as Sniper clung to his arm as if afraid.

The fatigued form sighed quietly, his mind foggy but his body still twitching with release, the smallest of dribbles puddling on the steel table, now that his cock lay limp against his sac. The slippery mess of both semen and lubricant would be cleaned up in time but Medic busied himself with pouring the contents of the dish into the small bottle, so that it could be properly sealed between tests.

Medic walked over to the pair and held the bottle out for Sniper to see, albeit wearily, his tired eyes noticing it but not understanding anything at first. Heavy chuckled softly, feeling the encroaching of Medic's hand as the smaller male slithered it up onto his shoulder.

“Vould you look at zat. It took some time, but you filled it up! Vell done!”

“Leetle Sniper did vell.”

Sniper swallowed audibly, his throat as dry as his mouth, the air in the infirmary cooler than it had been only minutes before and goosebumps had begun to rise on his arms and legs. He longed for his bed but he was so comfortable where he was, his body satisfied, even though it had been treated in such a strange way.

“Bloody Hell...”
Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 8270
Oh wow. I'm impressed. But I can't really picture medic with fangs.
>> No. 8271
>>8270
i believe by fangs they meant canine teeth. or teeth in general.

great fic, though!
>> No. 8273
>>8271

That's what I imagined, canines.

>>8270

>Sniper groaned when Medic first pressed his finger into the tight hole, his fangs showing as his lips curled back and he hissed softly. It could not have been from pain, as his muscles were sufficiently relaxed

I think they were the Sniper's fangs/canines...but maybe I misread it?

I will third the wonderfullness of this fic. Please to be finding time to write moar.
>> No. 8274
UNF UNF UNF OH LAWD THIS MADE ME A VERY HAPPY LADY.
>> No. 8275
Oh yes, you did VERY well and the feeling in my crotch is confirmation of it.
Maybe get this beta'd though?
>> No. 8276
Uuuuh, I don't claim to be any sort of expert when it comes to semen production and dispensing, but according to various sources, two tablespoons is definitely not a 'leetle amount' .
>> No. 8287
YES. Oh yes. I was waiting for a fic for that pic to show up and now I am happy soul.

Nicely done, though the fangs could probably be changed to just canines because it is a tad odd when you read that.
>> No. 8290
My, my. Humon's been getting a lot of love recently. And so far, all of it is quite good. I do hope there's more.

As for the subject of fangs, yes, Sniper does have them. I can't recall what thread was talking about teeth--or if it still exists--but just open Gmod and look in his mouth. He's got some beauts.
>> No. 8291
UNF. I had the opportunity to listen to the Sniper's voice commands on Mantrain. His "charge me, Doc" sounds absolutely obscene. Now I know why!
>> No. 8292
Thanks for all of the love and constructive suggestions, everyone. I will take them all into consideration, no worries.

>>8274 I'M SO HAPPY YOU APPROVE.

>>8276 Without giving too much away about my personal life, I've dealt with enough cocks to have kept record of this sort of thing, but in the fic, it was more or less Heavy trying to sound hurt and disappointed that a man like Sniper couldn't produce more.

>>8291 I'd offer you hearts dotchan, but who knows what the system does to the adorable little emotes! Those are sexy commands, eh? I kinda had a moment after writing this, where I imagined that command with a more perverse reasoning behind it. I think once Sniper works the drugs out of his system, he may be back for a return check up.
>> No. 8295
This made me happy in my pants. Nice job!
>> No. 8297
I guess this thread should have been called 'Ginyanote's attempt at writing stories for each of Humon's beautiful art pieces', or something similar. I'm challenging myself to write something for each of Humon's pictures that I can find posted to The Chan. Bear with me, everyone.

Pic should be Humon's gorgeous rendering of Medic and Heavy, with a tied up Demoman and Soldier, but duplicate files error...blahblahblah. Enjoy.

------------------------

It had started with gentle threats from Medic; a syringe on one hand, its glistening tip clutching at a single drop of green liquid and a scalpel in the other, its blade no doubt honed to a deadly level of sharp. Heavy was in on it too; his broad face sporting a frown that could crack glass and the fists at his sides surely aching to smash something to pieces.

Demoman had given in first. His state of inebriation was high but he was still lucid enough to know what was happening, stumbling over his words but following orders like the good little 'lesser-race' that he was. Soldier scowled and refused to move, until Medic threatened him with the syringe, stabbing in his direction and chuckling deep in his throat as Heavy stood like a wall behind the short American, blocking his getaway.

“I zink not, Herr Soldier. Zis vill be an experience you von't vant to write home to your Mozzer about, but you vill remember it all zhe zame.”

They were ordered to undress and stand facing each other, the lengths of rope that had been occupying the examination table were taken up by the enormous Russian and looped over his hands as he stalked back towards the pair. They were about the same height with their boots on and as Medic watched from the sidelines, his outer jacket removed and his sleeves rolled up over the elbows, Heavy bound the men together.

Demoman had almost automatically lifted his arms to wind around Soldier's neck, while Soldier refused to clutch the Scotsman to himself, his face flushed from what could only be disgust, but Medic and Heavy knew the pair were old friends and had certainly seen each other naked, if not indulged in each other's services during drunken nights or lonely ones in the barracks.

“Play nice now, Herr Soldier. Zis vill be over sooner if you co-operate.”

The American scowled but moved sluggishly in the direction that was the most comfortable, curling his arms around Demonman's waist. His hands stuck out straight and he clenched them into tight fists as Heavy secured them with the rope, then did the same to the Scotsman's, leaving them the ability to part if they worked together, but then terminating said ability once he tied their upper arms together as well, tugging the knots to make sure they were tight.

There was no space between their bodies and now that they were secure, Medic moved back from his vantage point, lovingly curling a hand under Heavy's chin and pressing a light kiss to his lips, earning a pleased sigh from the large man. The German placed something in the Russian's hand and then he moved behind Demoman nodding to Heavy over the black man's shoulder, indicating that he was free to do what he wished with the stiff American now that they had been properly restrained.

Heavy nodded back and slicked the first two fingers of his left hand with the lubricant Medic had handed him. He handed the tube to the German and carefully slid the digits between Soldier's ass cheeks, receiving a rather unwelcome squeezing of the man's glutes as the cool slickness touched him. Heavy's clean hand moved to rest on the American's back, rubbing small open-palmed circles into the warm skin.

He had been instructed bu Medic beforehand, that they could not penetrate either of them unless Medic's demands had been met. Heavy was fine with that, as long as he could touch the gruff American's hole, even teasing it a little bit with his large fingers, giving small nudges with the pads of them as if he were about to slide inside. He stopped himself each time, knowing that what Medic had said was true; that Soldier would eventually give in but it would take a lot of teasing and even more mental persuasion.

Medic was similarly occupied, with a hand curling over the back of Demoman's neck, soothingly pressing at the muscles in an attempt to coax the Scotsman into doing his bidding. The muscled body arched back at the waist as Medic's hand delved down between his cheeks, aroused by the closeness of Soldier's body and the alcohol in his system warming him through, moaning sadly as the hand moved.

The German had no qualms about smearing the thick lube across Demoman's ass and his lower back, massaging it in as if he were using scented oils and not simply the slippery, stringy surgical lubricant he so cherished.

“Zhe game is qvite zimple, Herr Soldier,” Medic started quietly, pausing as he let the American clear his throat, the pink across his face immediately giving away his state of arousal. “Zhere vill be no release or zatisfaction for either of you, unless ve zee zome sloppy kissing.”

Demoman moaned loudly, or as loudly as it could have seemed, when the infirmary was deathly silent as it was. Soldier turned his head away as the Scotsman licked at his cheek, ready for anything now that he was beyond his arousal limits, what with Medic's hand again between his glutes sliding slippery fingers against his hole. The barest hint of a tip slipped past his first line of defense and Demoman opened his mouth a little wider, mouthing dry lips over Soldier's cheek in perverse mimicry of a kiss.

Soldier was glad for the helmet still covering his head, as his cheeks coloured even more. Embarrassing, that's what it was! Men didn't fraternize with other men! Heavy prodded at Soldier's backside hard enough that he, too slipped inside for a brief second, earning a shy sort of yelp from the American and a good bit of thrust from his lower half, as his ass pressed out towards the Russian and his belly rubbed Demoman's trapped cock.

Heavy grinned and let a deep chuckle go free, only vaguely aware of how the pair seemed to be moving their hips towards each other. They could easily stroke each other off between them but neither Medic nor Heavy thought it would come to that just yet.

“Game not hard for old friends,” said Heavy, a small drop of sweat trickling from the side of his forehead.

It could have been through telepathy or Soldier's desire to be rid of the entire situation, but he finally turned his head to face Demoman and pressed his lips against those of the drunken Scotsman, moaning ashamedly as it was returned with equal force. His clenched hands were released and hesitantly, Soldier clutched at Demoman's back, the Scotsman's enthusiastic kisses tilting the American's helmet off, revealing the well-groomed crew cut and a rather flushed looking face. Soldier had closed his eyes and kept them that way throughout the ordeal, his eyebrows moving each time Demoman made a particularly loud smacking noise, their tongues sliding together and small moans exchanged between them.

“Sehr gut, ja, Herr Heavy?”

“Da, Doktor.”

Medic nodded to his partner and quickly slid two fingers inside of Demoman's tight hole, curling them hard against the soft tissues, savouring the keening wail the broad Scotsman gave in return. Soldier grunted sharply as Heavy did the same, the Russian's fingers so massively large that one was enough to fill the hot orifice to capacity, a second simply nudging at the entrance but unable to slide inside. Heavy frowned and then upped his actions, tearing the Soldier's hole slightly as he forced the second digit inside.

Soldier gasped in a way that was considerably un-manly, though it did something for Demoman, who licked at his lips and grimaced, his visible eye clenched shut as he thrust forward, rubbing himself on Soldier's jutting belly. He mumbled under his breath as Medic finger fucked him, forcing himself back onto the slick digits and rubbing himself from the front.

The American needed no stimulation from the front, as the feeling of being filled so severely and the ache of torn flesh was enough. He released suddenly, violently, spilling between himself and his best friend, most of it dripping onto their boots. Heavy removed his fingers and single-handedly unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor while he stroked his cock with the soiled fingers, bringing himself off quickly and spattering Soldier's back with his seed.

Medic let Demoman fuck himself on the German's fingers while the Scotsman held Soldier tightly, his fingernails digging deep marks into the American's neck and shoulders while he released, his gutteral grunts loud in the echoing infirmary. The pair seemed weak in the knees as they swayed slightly, held up only by Heavy's hand on Soldier's back, as Demoman leaned heavily against the American and breathed against his shoulder.

Heavy eyed the German, who had stepped back a bit, both of his hands working to undo his slacks, staining the dark fabric with lubricant. He lifted his left hand to steady himself against Demoman's back, his head down as he stroked himself in the open, grimacing at the deliciousness of it. He stared at the tiny droplets of semen that dotted the mens' boots and his once-spotless floor, desiring nothing more than to lick it up. The second he imagined the salty tang of the precious fluid, he released against Demoman's back, aiming himself just above the crack of the Scotsman's ass, so his seed ran down between the man's cheeks, a self-satisfied little laugh issuing forth.

He calmed himself as he stepped back, waving a hand at Heavy so that he could untie the pair and let them go.

“Zhey can go now, mein Liebeling. I am finished vis zem.”

Heavy nodded confirmation and bent down to fetch his pants, buckling himself back up and untying the knots with clumsy fingers still slick with various fluids. Heavy growled as he simply tore the rope instead, pointing to the piles of clothes and jabbing a thick finger towards the swinging double doors, now irritated as well as satisfied.

“Doktor says get lost.”

It was simple enough of a command and though Demoman was unsteady on his feet as always and Soldier scrambled to get out like a cat caught on a slippery floor, they curtailed their shyness and ran out without dressing first, their privates covered by armfuls of discarded clothing. Heavy turned back to Medic, who had pulled his slacks closed and buckled his belt, a dangerous little smile on his long face.

“Who better to teach zhe lesser races to 'make love not var', zan us?”

He lifted a hand to curl around the back of Heavy's neck as the giant Russian bent down to wind his beefy arms around the other's smaller frame, kissing him hard. Their plans were in motion and quickly gathering speed as they hurled downhill. There were so many combinations they could create with the remaining seven members of the team, not to mention those who visited on occasion.
>> No. 8298
>>8297
Unf. You make me envious. Also, you can blame me for that duplicate file, as I used it for my own adaptation of Humon's wonderful art, http://www.tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/8177.html

But I digress. You have a way with words.
>> No. 8299
>>8298
Ah, no worries about the duplicate file thing. It really doesn't matter in the long run and your adaptation of it was UNF UNF worthy as well. Thank you though, for the kind words. These are my first forays into writing TF2 porn and the more pleased reviews I receive, the faster the muses seem to want out!
>> No. 8307
>>8297
I don't care what you call the thread. Just keep writing this stuff!
>> No. 8310
>>8297

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. The war has made me a fan of the pairing, and it was great to see how your interpretation matched up with the same illustration while still deviating from the fic Sonnemelzen wrote.

Moar?


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