Bugger Lover
Peter/Ender
Rating: Adult.
Warnings: Noncon, incest, underage, light bondage.
A game of buggers and astronauts goes awry.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ender's Game or its characters. I do not endorse any illegal activities, including any portrayed in this work of fiction.
Alone.
Hiding was the only way Ender knew to avoid his brother’s wrath. True, he would have been safe enough with Valentine, but that made him weak. His safety could not depend on his older sister.
The door opened. The lights came on. Unfortunately, Ender reflected, there were only so many places to hide. And Peter knew them all.
Before Ender could even think of what to do, a shadow fell before him. Two legs appeared, and Ender was now trapped under the bed. To one side, the wall. To the other, his tormenter. No exit.
Maybe he doesn’t know I’m here.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”
Damn.
A probing foot on his solar plexus. For a moment it went towards his chest. Ender winced, knowing soon the breath would be crushed from him, as it had been so many times before.
But then there was a pause. The foot changed direction, finally settling there. Ender was horrified. What could Peter possibly want with that?
A step back, and then, “Come here.”
Conscious of his extreme vulnerability, Ender slid out from under the bed and started to pull himself up. Once again the foot on his chest, this time arresting his movement and pinning him back against the ground.
“I didn’t tell you to get up, you little bugger.”
The verbal abuse was typical, it no longer intimidated him for its own sake. Only the real malice behind it.
“Where’s Valentine?” Ender asked, trying to sound casual, unconcerned.
Peter stepped back, closed and locked the door. Ender felt his stomach turn sour. Not here, was the unmistakable message.
Ender suddenly felt very exposed. No one was coming to help him. This could not end well.
The familiar sharpness in Peter’s eyes told him he was in for it. What, he didn’t know. From long experience, he knew fighting back would only make it worse.
The eyes again. Ender hated, feared those eyes.
“Let’s play buggers and astronauts.” It was not a suggestion. The game never worked out well for Ender; this time would be worse.
From the drawer, Peter produced the bugger mask. Ender stood and did not flinch as Peter secured it around his face more tightly than was strictly necessary.
Peter drove his knee into Ender’s groin, doubling him over, placed his hands on his back, and pushed. Ender barely hit the ground before Peter was on top of him, restraining him.
“A successful capture!” Peter used the same exaggerated voice as the news vids. “The first in the history of the Wars. The bugger can expect no mercy.”
Now Ender did struggle, but his brother easily subdued him. Peter straddled Ender’s waist, and held both of his arms against the ground. Ender panicked, feeling suddenly claustrophic, but he could only kick the ground and fight against Peter’s iron grip on his arm. Within moments, he had given up.
Peter was easily bored with a compliant prisoner, and quickly gave Ender a reason to struggle again by placing his forearm against the back of Ender’s head and applying steady pressure. Only the mask kept Ender’s face from being crushed against the floor, but that merely meant that Ender’s face was crushed against the mask instead, and it made him equally unable to breathe. His arms now free, Ender flailed uselessly. He hit Peter with as much force as he could manage, which was not much at all. Peter scooted forward so his knee pressed Ender’s entire torso against the ground. Ender’s struggles became more frantic as he became more desperate for air.
They were very close now; Peter’s lips would have brushed Ender’s ear if it weren’t for the mask. “Stop fighting, bugger,” he whispered. “After we’re done learning everything we can from you, we’ll let you live... as a slave.”
Peter liked to win. Ender stopped struggling, and the pressure on his neck lessened, but he was still held down firmly.
“Now, for the examination,” Peter narrated; Ender could almost see the wicked grin implied by his voice. “Let’s see what sort of bugger we have here… obviously not a soldier.”
Ender gasped as Peter’s hands actually started reaching, exploring. “Peter, what are you doing?”
Slap. “I didn’t say you could talk, bugger slut.”
Peter’s own words suddenly inspired him to a new evil. Ender felt hands reaching around his obliques, abdomen… down…
What the hell?
“Peter--”
“Shut up bugger!” The hand closed, and Ender almost jumped out of his skin, but was in reality still held down by Peter’s other hand.
“Yes,” Peter whispered, licking his lips. “I see what kind of bugger you are.”
His pants were being pulled off. Ender was a different kind of scared now. His pulse pounded in his ears, his own breathing seemed impossibly fast. The mask made everything even more confusing and frightening.
“You’re a bugger whore. That’s what you are. The stories of your kind are legendary.” Hands, moving, grabbing, driving Ender mad. The words echoed in his mind. Whore. He knew what it meant. But it meant nothing. None of this made any sense.
In the intervening moments, Peter managed to strip the necessary clothes from himself and Ender. Ender still had his shirt on, but that only made him feel more naked, especially when his brother’s hands - his brother’s hands - reached under it to grope him.
Ender’s head spun. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Peter had always been cruel, bullying… but this.
Then pain and pleasure mixed, their combined strength so overwhelming Ender couldn’t separate them.
“Scream for me.”
And against his will, Ender did.
Rating: Adult.
Warnings: Noncon, incest, underage, light bondage.
A game of buggers and astronauts goes awry.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ender's Game or its characters. I do not endorse any illegal activities, including any portrayed in this work of fiction.
Alone.
Hiding was the only way Ender knew to avoid his brother’s wrath. True, he would have been safe enough with Valentine, but that made him weak. His safety could not depend on his older sister.
The door opened. The lights came on. Unfortunately, Ender reflected, there were only so many places to hide. And Peter knew them all.
Before Ender could even think of what to do, a shadow fell before him. Two legs appeared, and Ender was now trapped under the bed. To one side, the wall. To the other, his tormenter. No exit.
Maybe he doesn’t know I’m here.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”
Damn.
A probing foot on his solar plexus. For a moment it went towards his chest. Ender winced, knowing soon the breath would be crushed from him, as it had been so many times before.
But then there was a pause. The foot changed direction, finally settling there. Ender was horrified. What could Peter possibly want with that?
A step back, and then, “Come here.”
Conscious of his extreme vulnerability, Ender slid out from under the bed and started to pull himself up. Once again the foot on his chest, this time arresting his movement and pinning him back against the ground.
“I didn’t tell you to get up, you little bugger.”
The verbal abuse was typical, it no longer intimidated him for its own sake. Only the real malice behind it.
“Where’s Valentine?” Ender asked, trying to sound casual, unconcerned.
Peter stepped back, closed and locked the door. Ender felt his stomach turn sour. Not here, was the unmistakable message.
Ender suddenly felt very exposed. No one was coming to help him. This could not end well.
The familiar sharpness in Peter’s eyes told him he was in for it. What, he didn’t know. From long experience, he knew fighting back would only make it worse.
The eyes again. Ender hated, feared those eyes.
“Let’s play buggers and astronauts.” It was not a suggestion. The game never worked out well for Ender; this time would be worse.
From the drawer, Peter produced the bugger mask. Ender stood and did not flinch as Peter secured it around his face more tightly than was strictly necessary.
Peter drove his knee into Ender’s groin, doubling him over, placed his hands on his back, and pushed. Ender barely hit the ground before Peter was on top of him, restraining him.
“A successful capture!” Peter used the same exaggerated voice as the news vids. “The first in the history of the Wars. The bugger can expect no mercy.”
Now Ender did struggle, but his brother easily subdued him. Peter straddled Ender’s waist, and held both of his arms against the ground. Ender panicked, feeling suddenly claustrophic, but he could only kick the ground and fight against Peter’s iron grip on his arm. Within moments, he had given up.
Peter was easily bored with a compliant prisoner, and quickly gave Ender a reason to struggle again by placing his forearm against the back of Ender’s head and applying steady pressure. Only the mask kept Ender’s face from being crushed against the floor, but that merely meant that Ender’s face was crushed against the mask instead, and it made him equally unable to breathe. His arms now free, Ender flailed uselessly. He hit Peter with as much force as he could manage, which was not much at all. Peter scooted forward so his knee pressed Ender’s entire torso against the ground. Ender’s struggles became more frantic as he became more desperate for air.
They were very close now; Peter’s lips would have brushed Ender’s ear if it weren’t for the mask. “Stop fighting, bugger,” he whispered. “After we’re done learning everything we can from you, we’ll let you live... as a slave.”
Peter liked to win. Ender stopped struggling, and the pressure on his neck lessened, but he was still held down firmly.
“Now, for the examination,” Peter narrated; Ender could almost see the wicked grin implied by his voice. “Let’s see what sort of bugger we have here… obviously not a soldier.”
Ender gasped as Peter’s hands actually started reaching, exploring. “Peter, what are you doing?”
Slap. “I didn’t say you could talk, bugger slut.”
Peter’s own words suddenly inspired him to a new evil. Ender felt hands reaching around his obliques, abdomen… down…
What the hell?
“Peter--”
“Shut up bugger!” The hand closed, and Ender almost jumped out of his skin, but was in reality still held down by Peter’s other hand.
“Yes,” Peter whispered, licking his lips. “I see what kind of bugger you are.”
His pants were being pulled off. Ender was a different kind of scared now. His pulse pounded in his ears, his own breathing seemed impossibly fast. The mask made everything even more confusing and frightening.
“You’re a bugger whore. That’s what you are. The stories of your kind are legendary.” Hands, moving, grabbing, driving Ender mad. The words echoed in his mind. Whore. He knew what it meant. But it meant nothing. None of this made any sense.
In the intervening moments, Peter managed to strip the necessary clothes from himself and Ender. Ender still had his shirt on, but that only made him feel more naked, especially when his brother’s hands - his brother’s hands - reached under it to grope him.
Ender’s head spun. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Peter had always been cruel, bullying… but this.
Then pain and pleasure mixed, their combined strength so overwhelming Ender couldn’t separate them.
“Scream for me.”
And against his will, Ender did.