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The problem was Scott was his brother and Stiles would do anything for him. Hell, they’d made a blood oath as kids – not, like, a real blood oath, they’d been eight and unaware of the reality of the supernatural and blood magic, but it’d been super serious! – and they’d sworn to always have the other’s back. And, yeah, Scott had been a little distracted recently with turning into a werewolf and dating Allison, but he would still be there for Stiles if he needed him. Probably. Assuming he wasn’t in the middle of sexy times with his girlfriend.
Stiles pressed his palms into his eyes, hands shaking and mouth dry, before climbing out of the jeep and approaching the front door of the big house.
The real problem was Stiles would never not be there for Scott, there was no line he would not cross if it meant keeping his people safe.
Chris Argent opened the door, as the bell echoed inside.
“Mr. Argent.”
“You came back.”
Stiles swallowed thickly. “I’m here to make this weeks payment.”
The man’s icy blue eyes trailed down his torso and his mouth thinned. “You better come in.”
He followed Chris into the house, through the living room, and then into the secret passage leading to the hunter’s base of operations. His knees grew weak on the staircase down into darkness, his fight or flight mode kicking into gear, but Stiles forced it down. He couldn’t beat Chris in a fight and if he ran the deal he’d made would be null and void. And Scott would be dead.
Chris flicked on the lights at the base of the stairs and jerked his head towards the utilitarian bathroom. “Shower, clothes are in there waiting for you.”
“I already showered before I-”
“Shower again,” the hunter said, smooth, implacable voice cutting him off.
Stiles gritted his teeth but nodded, turning on his heel to do as he was told. The man had a thing for him being squeaky clean for the payment. Stiles had no idea why but it was hardly the worst thing on the agenda for the night.
He showered quickly, shivering in the cold spray. Chris never let him use the warm water, said it would alert the family if the hot water tank was lower than usual. He was pretty sure that was BS but then he did not want to be the one Kateblamed for Chris’ extracurricular activities next time she was in town. And if Allison found out, well, it wasn’t exactly cheating because Victoria was dead and Stiles didn’t have much of a choice, but grieving people weren’t always reasonable. And Chris had assured him that his daughter would strip his skin from his body if she found out. His tone had been fond as he said it, knife gliding delicately over Stiles’ skin in a parody of the threat. Stiles had been terrified.
Climbing out of the shower he toweled off quickly and then opened the garment box sitting on the sink. For a long minute he stared, breath catching in his throat and tears stinging his eyes because how the fuck had this gotten worse?
There was a brisk knock on the bathroom door and Chris’ muffled voice ordered him to hurry up.
“Co-coming!” Stiles blurted, the panic of the boxes contents outweighed by the panic of upsetting Chris. He struggled into the clothes and fumbled with the ties. Fully dressed but for the piece that laced up the back where he couldn’t reach, Stiles crept out of the bathroom, eyes on the floor and face red.
“What took you so long?”
He glanced up to see Chris reassembling a gun, eyes focused on his work.
“I- Sorry, Sir. I couldn’t reach. The back.”
The hunter finally turned to look at him, eyes narrowing and lips tilting slightly upwards. Stiles quivered where he stood as the man set down the gun and walked slowly towards him.
“Well now, don’t you look pretty. Need a little help?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as Chris stepped behind him, rough hands catching on the lace of the waist corset.
“You look so pretty in pink, baby,” Chris murmured as he began to tighten the laces. “Like a princess.”
“Thank you, S-sir.”
He gasped sharply as the corset cinched around his waist. The hunter kept pulling, tightening the piece until Stiles thought he wouldn’t be able breathe.
“You like that, Princess?”
Stiles managed a breathless whimper and shake of his head.
“Too bad,” Chris said. “You’re gonna be my pretty little girl tonight and that means you gotta look the part.”
Chris’ hands smoothed down Stiles’ narrowed waist, over the delicate stockings on his legs, and then swept up between his thighs where his limp cock was nestled in a pair of matching panties. He hissed as the man squeezed him before sliding a finger under the lace.
“Look at that, smooth as the day you were born. Good girl.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Stiles said, voice cracking.
Chris scooped him up and laid him out on the long table where the man cleaned his guns. Stiles’ breath stuttered as he was pressed flat against the cold metal.
“You just lay there for me, Princess, I’m gonna make you feel good.”
Stiles tried, he really did, but there was no way to relax in a corset tied as tight as his. There was no bend in the steel boning, it forced his back straight and tense, every inhale a struggle. But Chris didn’t seem to mind, he ignored Stiles’ breathy gasps and fidgeting fingers, too busy grabbing a bottle from a cabinet and then pushing Stiles’ long legs apart.
Stiles stared at the ceiling when the hunter squirted the contents of the bottle into his hand. He jerked in surprise when the rough hands began to press against his chest, smoothing down over his shoulders and across his exposed nipples.
“Ssh, be a good girl,” Chris murmured, rubbing what must be lotion into Stiles’ skin. “I’ll take care of you.”
Stiles gasped shallowly as the man thumbed at his nipples, the nubs pebbling under the attention. Chris chuckled and leaned down to press a quick kiss on each one.
“Your pretty little tits are so perfect, Princess. Makes me want to suckle at them.”
“Don’t,” Stiles tried. “I’m not a-”
Chris shook his head, eyes glinting dangerously. “Tonight you’re whatever I want you to be, baby.” The man’s hands slid across the line of skin exposed between the corset and panties, pushing firmly at the flat muscles where stomach met pelvis. “Tonight you’re my little princess and I’m going to fuck your sweet cunt.”
Stiles shook his head and opened his mouth to argue. He could take a lot but he wasn’t a girl and the words set him on edge, but before he could make a rebuttal Chris was pushing his head back onto the table and shoving three fingers into his mouth.
“There, see. Good girls like to keep their mouths busy sucking cock, and you’re a good girl, aren’t you Princess?”
Stiles choked and tried to pull away but Chris just sighed and grabbed something out of his line of sight. He sucked in a desperate breath when the hunter withdrew his fingers but the freedom was short lived. Chris pried his mouth open and forced a cock gag inside, the lengthy silicone pressing tightly against the back of Stiles’ throat and making him cough. He struggled as the hunter fastened the clasp behind his head, locking the gag into place, and then he continued to struggle until Chris cuffed his hands to a ring in the table. He keened helplessly, arms locked above his head, rubber cock filling his mouth, and back arching off the table in the tight constraints of the corset.
“So beautiful,” Chris said, his hands going back to their work of rubbing lotion into every inch of skin they could reach.
Stiles shivered at the tender touch and focused on breathing, worried what would happen if he had a panic attack and passed out. Who knew what Chris would do to him if he caught him unconscious. Tears trickled down his temples.
Chris’ attention had shifted from rubbing lotion into Stiles’ thighs to sliding slick, teasing fingers under the edge of the panties. Two digits pressed at his hole and he tensed. Chris was a patient man, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurry the process along. The fingers continued their exploration, pushing at the ring of muscles but never all the way in.
“You’re cunt is so tight, Princess,” Chris said approvingly, mouthing at Stiles’ hipbone. “I bet you’re a sweet little virgin, aren’t you?”
Stiles didn’t respond other than to close his eyes.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you a real woman, how about that?”
Without warning Chris’ fingers pushed sharply into Stiles’ ass, making him arch and try to twist away but a strong hand on his belly held him in place. He whined and squirmed as the fingers thrust in and out, forcing his hole wider as they scissored. It hurt but Chris ignored his pained whimpers and added a third finger.
“That’s it. Good girl. Squeeze down on my fingers, Princess, show me you like it.”
Stiles writhed, trying to push the fingers out to no avail. Chris chuckled and leaned down to lick at his still limp cock, fingers hammering away. The hot mouth closed around his cock head through the fabric and sucked hard. Stiles saw stars, tears falling in earnest when – to his utter shame – he started to respond to the stimulation, hardening as the hunter nibbled and licked along his length.
“Your clit tastes so good, Princess,” Chris said with a smile. If he wasn’t cuffed to the table Stiles would have jackknifed up when the hunter wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it firmly. “But good girls don’t get to come until I say so.”
Stiles whined as the hand left his cock, hating himself and the man leaning over him.
Chris laughed at the sound and smoothed his knuckles down one red cheek. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you something.” He produced a cock ring from his pocket and slid it onto Stiles’ erection without pause. “Your clit is gonna be hard all night, Princess. Now I’ll take care of you cunt.”
Stiles tried to kick the man as he climbed onto the table but he missed and earned a hard swat on his thigh for the trouble. Chris opened his fly and pulled out his dick. Stiles was always amazed at the size of it and given his minimal prep he knew this session was going to be brutal. The cock gag bumped painfully against the back of his throat as the hunter lifted his legs, bending him in half as far as the corset would allow and pushed the panties to the side. Chris paused only long enough to unfasten the gag and let it fall free. “I want to hear you scream, baby,” he said before slamming his cock into Stiles’ ass in one hard thrust.
Stiles did scream, and then he cried. He begged and pleaded as the hunter pounded into him over and over, reaming his ass with a vengeance.
“Such a good girl,” Chris grunted between thrusts. “So tight, your cunt feels so good.”
“Plea-Please, Sir! St-stop! It hurts!”
Stiles keened as the men bent forward and bit harshly at his nipples.
“Gonna fuck a baby into you, Princess. Gonna make your tits big with milk and then drink them dry. You like that? Like being my good girl? Like taking my cock like a little slut?”
“No no no no no,” Stiles wailed
Chris pressed a hand against Stiles’ lower stomach, earning another cry of pain.
“Oh baby, feel that? I’m so deep inside you I can see it. Your cunt is so needy it’s sucking me in.”
“Please,” Stiles sobbed.
Chris hushed him, one hand wrapping almost gently around his throat. Stiles’ eyes widened as the hunter began to squeeze, choking him as his thrusts picked up speed.
“That’s it, baby,” Chris murmured hoarsely, staring into Stiles’ eyes. “You look so pretty like this.”
Terror seized Stiles’ heart as his vision started to go dark. The man was going to kill him, he was actually going to kill him.
Just as Stiles’ eyes began to roll back Chris slammed into him one finally time and came with a roar. Stiles gasped wetly as his neck was abruptly released. The hunter sagged and then pulled out. He knee-walked up the table until his cock was hanging over Stiles’ mouth, cum and other liquids dripping from it onto his chin.
“Open your mouth, baby girl,” Chris ordered.
Stiles choked down a sob and hesitantly opened his mouth. The hunter watched intently as Stiles sucked and licked at the softening length until it was clean, then he threaded a gentle hand through his hair and said, “Good girl.”
He climbed off the table and grabbed a plug from a small box on the floor. Stiles bit his tongue as the cold glass was shoved none too gently into his ass. Chris released the handcuffs and helped him sit up and slide off the table. Stiles started to strip out of the lace lingerie when Chris stopped him with a hand around his throat.
“Leave it on, Princess. You’re going to wear that home under your clothes. When you get there you’re gonna set up your phone and take a video of you making your sweet clit feel all better. Only then can you take off the clothes and the plug. Understand?”
Stiles balked at the words. They’d never, he’d never been sent home with extra instructions. “I don’t-”
Chris ran the finger of his free hand up the underside of Stiles’ still hard cock. “See how needy your clit is?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“You leave the ring on until you get home and then you make me a pretty little video of you rubbing your clit until you climax. Or I put down your friend.”
“This wasn’t part of the agreement,” Stiles said, voice shaking.”
Chris smiled at him coldly. “Agreements change, Princess. Now leave before I decide to bend you over the table and fuck that sweet cunt again.”
Stiles nodded, his face ashen and hurried to the bathroom to throw his jeans and t-shirt on over the lace. If he got home soon enough he wouldn’t have to worry about running into his dad and he could make the video without having to be super quiet. Chris didn’t like it when he was quiet.
The plug bounced against his prostate the entire drive home, the pleasure secondary to the sting of being overused and under prepped. He made the video while he sobbed and thanked his Sir until he came, the orgasm tightening his exhausted muscles until they hurt. Then he collapsed on his bed and reminded himself this was for Scott as he hit send.