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Steb scans the abandoned warehouse, feeling slightly ridiculous. He and Scar have prepped for this scene for days: they scouted a discreet location, dusted off his old uniform, and packed a bag of goodies, but they forgot to come up with a plot beyond “Firelight fucks enforcer.” Maybe he should pretend to search the room.
At a cold draft, his scales flare beneath his eyes.
Scar comes out of nowhere, a dark streak on a hoverboard. He slams into Steb, running him against the ground, his hoverboard landing ten feet ahead. He presses his warm, muscular chest against Steb’s back and pins his wrists behind him.
Steb’s spinal fin flutters under Scar’s hot breath — the impact of the fall forward. Any concern for a plot dissolves under his weight and his mouth’s nearness to his neck. The concrete floor is cool against his cheek.
Scar slips a hand between Steb’s legs. He squeezes his pussy roughly through his pants. “Hi, little enforcer.”
Steb pants under him, trying to remember to fight. He tenses in preparation to yank his wrists out of Scar’s grip, arousal mounting through his core.
Scar cuffs his wrists behind his back. “Did you come to Zaun looking for cock? Need someone to fuck this slutty hole, huh?”
It’s been a week since Scar last touched him. They’ve both been busy with Greer and missions and everything else, so with Scar’s large hand cupping him deliciously, he’s already growing wet.
Scar yanks him up by his collar and drags him into his lap, facing him, so they’re both seated in the warehouse’s lone chair. Even masked, Scar is dizzyingly attractive: corded shoulders, squared jaw, and large ears.
Steb resists the urge to grind against Scar’s bulge. He can’t make things too easy.
Scar grasps Steb’s thighs and parts them over his leather-clad lap. His eyes burn down Steb’s body. “Has it been that long since someone last fucked you? Or do you do all your missions dripping wet?” He licks a hot stripe just below his collar and gropes his clothed pussy. “You smell fucking desperate.”
Heat rising through his cheeks, Steb feels the damp spot intensifying in his briefs.
Scar grinds the heel of his palm against his closed papilla.
Steb arches in his lap, moaning softly in shock.
Scar unclips the jaw of his Firelight mask. He kisses Steb’s jaw gills and scrapes his textured tongue across them.
Steb whines and shivers, his gills parting under Scar’s attention.
Scar nibbles along his gills. “If I knew they were hiding an enforcer this sweet, I would’ve snuck up topside and stolen you away sooner, pretty thing. You feel good?”
Steb humps Scar’s hardening cock. His heat seeps through his leather pants. The need to be filled up spikes through his empty cunt.
“Got nothing to say? You’re just going to rut against me like a bitch in heat.” Scar’s voice dips dangerously lower. “Your body is just begging to be fucked against the concrete.”
Steb gushes in his underwear. He tries to squirm away, remembering his role in their little fantasy scenario. An enforcer shouldn’t let a suspect fuck him senseless on the job. Memory reminds him that he did let Scar take him back when he still wore the uniform.
Without warning, Scar lifts Steb off his lap and throws him against the ground.
Steb grunts, landing on his back. His cunt throbs at the rough treatment, and his scales flutter. He’s pleased that Scar is genuinely manhandling him. Scar was hesitant when they first discussed the scene, but he did eventually confess to enjoying being bigger than Steb and able to hold him down, consensually, of course. It’s good. They both get something out of this.
Scar yanks down Steb’s pants and briefs, his thigh harnesses snapping open. “Don’t run. I know you’re dripping for it under this little uniform. I can smell you slicking up.”
Steb’s own weight crushes his hands beneath him. He can’t sign. He can’t even move. The helplessness wires through his groin like the headiest aphrodisiac.
Scar grips Steb’s jaw, digging his fingers roughly into his gills.
Steb cries out, his pussy aching.
Scar balls up Steb’s briefs and stuffs them into his open mouth.
Steb tastes his own slick from earlier. He feels lightheaded with need.
Scar grabs his thighs and forces them up and open, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh.
All his intimate parts are on display for Scar. Fluid dribbles onto the ground, his skin’s slime running down his neck and staining his uniform collar. The ends of his thigh harnesses hang unclipped around his legs. His anal fins are dark and swollen with need.
Scar clips the harnesses closed again around his thighs, the cold metal clips and the leather straps cutting into his flesh. He must look obscene — his tactical gear strapped closed around his naked thighs instead of over two layers of clothing, his dripping pussy exposed between them.
Scar unclips his baton from his belt and sets it against his inner thigh.
Steb pants, waiting.
Scar traces the baton up and down Steb’s thigh, the metal chilling his skin. He purrs, “Be good now, okay?”
Scar lifts the baton and brings it down on Steb’s vulnerable pussy.
The blow burns through his cunt like molten magma. He moans through the gag, leaking all across the warehouse floor, his anal fins fluttering open in invitation.
Scar asks, “Need me to hit your whore pussy again?”
Steb heaves in air, unable to respond.
Scar slides the baton’s length between his parted fins. He spins it through the slick there and scrapes it along his papilla.
Steb whimpers, his papilla pulsing beneath the baton’s weight. His thoughts spin into oblivion. The pain-pleasure combination feels divine.
Scar spanks his pussy with the baton again.
Steb arches off the warehouse floor, mewling. His hole clenches around nothing, heat blooming through his beaten pussy. He’s stripped down to just his jacket, shirt, and thigh harnesses, his naked cunt pulsing under his own baton.
“Your pussy is swelling up. All fucking pink and dripping.” Scar rubs the baton between his parted anal fins and sets the tip against his entrance.
Steb shudders under the metal tip. He shuts his eyes, his papilla flaring out.
Scar slides the baton’s tip up his papilla. He crushes it against his pubic bone.
Steb’s nub throbs. His lips part in pleasure.
The baton slides lower. It rests above his hole.
“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson,” Scar drawls. “Uppity pigs like you need to be taken down a few fucking pegs. You should think twice about dropping into the undercity and searching places that aren’t yours. Maybe this’ll make it stick.” He presses the baton against his cunt and fucks it into him.
Steb moans and squeezes around the cold metallic violation, the baton squelching lewdly through his internal canal.
“Guess I’ve found a better use for these damn batons. Watching your pussy clench is so fucking hot.” Scar thrusts the baton in and out of his cunt. He catches its blunt edges along his canal’s internal ribbing, eased by copious amounts of slick. “You like being fucked by your own weapon?”
His hole drools slick, radiating heat from its beating. The hot shame of getting off on being pussy-spanked and fucked by his own baton rolls through Steb in waves. He moans softly, his hands losing feeling under his back.
Scar rolls him gently onto his side, recognizing the nonverbal cue. He folds Steb’s knee up against his chest. The filthy position grants him fuller access to his pussy.
Steb clenches around the baton. It slides wetly halfway out of him.
Scar rams it back inside him, hard enough that it hits the entrance to his egg sac.
Steb shouts, his walls spasming around the unforgiving baton. The metal has no give unlike a real cock, and it stretches him mercilessly open. He slicks across the concrete, his sac’s entrance smarting after the brutal thrust.
Scar circles Steb’s hip in silent reassurance, somewhat unnecessarily. Steb trusts Scar not to hurt him in any real way.
Scar takes the baton by its grip. He begins pounding Steb’s pussy at a steady pace.
Steb moans, his back curving out.
Scar splays his hand against Steb’s flat stomach. He pushes down on the baton moving inside him. Each thrust nearly penetrates his sac.
His ribbing swells around the thick metal, his eyes rolling back.
“Are you going to come, fucked on your baton?” Scar says. “Gonna squirt for me?”
Steb’s cunt flutters around it, pathetic little moans spilling off his lips.
“Cute little thing, aren’t you?” Scar smirks. “Come on. Come for me.”
Obediently, Steb comes hard around the baton. He curls in on himself.
Scar keeps his leg forced up. He traces his finger around Steb’s hole stretched around its metal girth. “I should leave you here like this.” He lifts his finger, soaked in Steb’s slick, and sucks it clean with a wet pop. “I know some other bastard will want a go with your greedy pussy now that it’s stretched and drooling, plugged up with this fucking baton.”
Steb whines past the gag and clenches at Scar’s suggestion. His cunt feels wonderfully tender around the intrusion.
Scar admires the baton inside him. He pushes it slowly up with his palm.
Steb pants as Scar fucks the baton in further. His sac entrance starts to give. His breathing quickens.
The baton’s tip pops inside his sac.
Steb moans, shaking against the ground. His whole sac and ribbing throbs around the baton in tandem. He slicks up again.
Scar strokes his hand down his back, perhaps, too kind for the role he’s playing, but Steb doesn’t mind it. “Gotta stretch your womb, too, for whoever finds you, dripping like a slut around your weapon, next.”
Steb’s egg sac feels so stuffed and tender. Whimpering, he presses his thighs together around the baton’s other end.
The tiny movement jostles it where its tip is fucked inside his egg sac.
He gasps, making a broken little noise.
Scar gives the baton a final twist. “Have fun.”
Steb breathes hard against the floor, half-naked and slick, his baton filling him up in ways he hasn’t experienced before. He can feel slick leaking out of him around it.
Scar fits his mask’s jaw back on. He stands and leaves.
The door clicks shut behind him, and the scene is over.
Scar gives him no time to contemplate anything. Barely two seconds later, he wrenches the door back open and sprints across the concrete floor. He rips off his mask and kneels beside Steb, carefully uncuffing his wrists and removing the gag.
He strokes Steb’s face beneath his thumbs, asking, “How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”
Steb crawls towards Scar’s lap, moaning weakly as the baton shifts inside him. He feels hazy and warm and sore.
Scar draws him forward and cradles his head in his lap. He works the baton out of Steb’s cunt and sets it aside, petting his back. He murmurs, “There you go. All better.”
Steb shudders, nuzzling his face in Scar’s lap. He feels good.
Scar scoops Steb up and cradles him against his chest. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.”
Steb tucks his arms against Scar, not missing Scar’s larger-than-usual bulge under his ass. He signs, I can tell you’re still hard.
“Mm, when you whimper and wiggle your hips like you were for the last twenty minutes, it’s a little hard not to be. But how do you feel?” Scar brushes his closed anal fins. “Nothing’s broken? I tried not to hit you too hard.”
Steb touches Scar’s cheek, his smile indulgent. I feel good. Thank you.
Scar cups Steb’s hand. He turns and kisses his palm. “Let’s get you dressed into something decent.” His eyes skate down to Steb’s bare leather-strapped thighs.
Steb parts his legs teasingly, running his fingers down the harness.
Scar growls, kneading Steb’s thigh in hand. “Baby, don’t tease me.”
Is this like lingerie to you? Steb lets Scar massage his legs. You could fuck me, Scar. I’m still wet enough.
“Aren’t you sore? I just hit you with a metal baton,” Scar says, his eyes fixed on Steb’s bruised, dripping cunt.
It’ll just make it better, Steb says. And we can take a long, hot bath after this.
Scar kisses Steb hard, already undoing his own pants.
Moaning, Steb kisses him back. He shifts on Scar’s lap and lifts himself up as Scar lines his cock up with his cunt.
Scar pulls Steb down on his cock.
Steb hisses at his pussy’s tenderness, the warm press out of his walls. Scar’s thick, warm cock feels indescribably good. He clings to Scar’s neck as his massive, heart-shaped tip opens his pussy’s ribbing up again.
Scar fucks up into him hard.
Steb squeezes around Scar’s cock, his thoughts wiping blissfully out.
Scar thrusts into his cunt until they both come with bitten-off moans, pent-up from the earlier play.
Scar stays locked inside him. He pets his ear fin between his fingers, asking, “I came inside you. Should we clean you out before we go? You’ll make a mess of your pants otherwise.”
Steb pats Scar’s pockets, searching for the plug. Where is it? The plug?
Scar bites at his nape possessively, producing the thick purple plug. He asks, “Is that a good idea? After I spanked you?”
Steb wriggles his hips on Scar’s cock and nods. The thought of being sore and plugged up sounds unfairly appealing.
“You make such a cute slut, baby.” Scar tugs Steb off his cock and holds him up, pulling his legs back open.
Steb spreads his legs submissively, offering his ruined pussy for the plug.
Scar presses the tapered tip against Steb’s hole. He swirls the tip against him, teasing his battered entrance, his arm barred across Steb’s waist.
Steb squirms and whimpers.
“Alright, alright, I’ll give it to you. Hush.” Scar pushes the plug into his cunt. The soft ends curl inwards, stretching Steb’s swollen hole upon entry and unfurling inside him.
Steb pants at the new pressure inside his cunt and the tenderness from the earlier beating. He takes it silently.
The plug locks Scar’s load inside him.
He slumps back against Scar.
Scar rests him back on his lap, petting his belly. “You’re so fucking hot, baby. You look so sexy in just your little thigh straps and that pussy plug.”
Steb breathes hard against him. He signs, I can feel you inside me.
“Fuck,” Scar growls against his shoulder. He grips the base of the plug and twists it, working it in and out but not far enough to let anything escape. “I went through a lot of work filling you up and plugging your greedy pussy. You better keep it all inside now.”
Steb mewls, arousal flaring through his groin.
Scar strokes his papilla harshly.
It lifts out. Steb arches in his lap, his legs splayed out over Scar’s thick thighs.
Scar flicks his nub and presses it against his pubic bone.
Steb grinds his hips down. The plug jostles his tender insides.
Scar’s fingers on his papilla are relentless. Pleasure sparking up his cunt, he curls over his middle.
“So needy,” Scar purrs, toying with his papilla. “Gonna come again? You like being plugged up with my cum this much, huh, baby?”
Steb whimpers softly. Heat washes through his core. He clenches around the plug, a sharp need condensing behind his papilla until his thighs tremble over Scar’s lap.
“You can do it, baby. Come again for me.” Scar pinches his papilla hard.
Mewling, he comes on Scar’s lap.
Scar strokes him through his orgasm.
His pussy still pulsing under Scar’s fingers, he leans back against him.
“So good for me.” Scar pats his cunt gently, and it moves the plug inside him. “That’s it. Just relax now. I’ll get you back into your pants.”
Run a bath when we’re home? Steb asks.
“Anything for you, baby.” Scar reaches for the bag with his spare set of clothes. He pulls the pants past Steb’s feet and dresses him again. “I can’t let you walk around with warehouse grime on your ass.”
Thank you. Steb strips out of his uniform top. He tugs on his spare shirt instead.
Scar stands and pockets Steb’s briefs that were in his mouth.
Steb raises his brows. Keeping that for later?
“I know where the real you is, baby,” Scar says. “I don’t need your underwear.”
Right, Steb says.
Scar flushes tellingly. “Alright, that was one fucking time.”
A few months ago, Steb found Scar with Steb’s underwear against his nose and his hand down his pants.
I’m not complaining. Steb’s smile betrays his amusement. That was a very memorable night. Do what you want with it.
Scar shakes his head, grinning. He doesn’t put Steb’s briefs back in their main bag.
Steb walks over to his hoverboard.
Scar steps on his own board and kicks it up into his hand.
An idea manifesting, Steb tucks his board under his armpit. He taps Scar’s shoulder from behind him.
Scar turns around, his brows drawn low in confusion.
Steb pecks Scar on the lips. He signs, Let’s race back. He jumps on the hoverboard and zips through the hole in the warehouse’s ceiling, not waiting another beat.
For a moment, Scar blinks, recalibrating after the surprise kiss. Like an automaton rebooting, he whirs back to life. He snatches up their bag and shouts, “Steb, dammit, that wasn’t fucking fair! Get back here—”
Steb spins around, signing, I think it’s fair. Winner chooses their prize.
Scar leaps onto his board. His engines rev behind him. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I guess I know these streets better than you.”
So prove it . Steb turns back around and hurtles towards home, smiling to himself.
They have a few more hours before Greer gets back home from school. They might as well take advantage of a rare day off.