The Life on Mars Anonymous Pornfest
Please Note: I've declared the Pornfest over (as I can't be bothered to keep the prompt list up-to-date!) So any new prompts posted will be deleted. However, I do encourage you to post any anon fic in response to the existing prompts and comment on the lovely responses that we've already got
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Gene swirled the whisky in his glass before downing it in one. Sam had been easy. Too easy, in fact, and it was a simple process slipping him some gear CID had took off a local druggy a day earlier. Sam had been trying to match him in chasers and pints all evening and was doing quite well, to Gene’s surprise, until Gene had used his newly acquired magic potion and Sam was a floppy, soppy mess. Ray found this hilarious, naturally, thinking the alcohol had finally defeated his poncy superior officer. Gene rolled his eyes and made a big fuss of taking his “nancy boy DI, daft ponce, can’t take on the Gene Genie” to applause and belly laughs.
He had chucked Sam in the back of the car.
“Oh, we’re going to have fun, Sammy. Believe me” Gene said to Sam despite his unconsciousness. Gene drove them back home. He had planned this carefully. Get Sam fairly drunk, drugged, and somewhere quiet.
Gene’s house had thick walls.
So here they were. Sam was sprawled on the floor, where he would stay for the evening. Gene considered refilling his glass but knew he needed to keep a clear mind. It would be no good to be half-pissed. He needed to keep control of the situation and most importantly keep control of Tyler. Gene felt the stirrings of an erection just thinking about it. Sam would be an awkward little bastard, like he always was, but there was something different about this cocky sod. The difference was that he was the cutest thing Gene had ever had the pleasure to work with, a beautiful rounded tight arse that Gene was almost salivating at the thought of having, a pretty face that was begging to be covered in cum, and Gene couldn’t wait to hear Sam mewl, cry and whimper as Gene took whatever he pleased.
There was no doubting that Sam Tyler needed bringing down a peg or two.
Sam stirred, moving uncomfortably, and Gene waited patiently for him to realize he wasn’t in his flat.
“I … Gene… ?”
“Good evening, sleeping beauty.”
“Bloody hell.”
Gene smiled.
Sam groaned in pain and propped himself up by the bed, still feeling light-headed and weak. Gene let him recover as he was in no rush himself. He had all the time in the world.
Sam smiled at Gene, grateful for his apparent help.
“Thanks, Guv. I guess I’ll be off now.”
Sam rose unsteadily, brushing himself down as he did so.
“I don’t think so, Sammy boy. You’re not going anywhere” Gene replied, his eyes dark, his voice thick and heavy with lust and something slightly more dangerous.
Sam looked at him confused. Gene decided there was no more time to waste, and the effects of the drug had worn off Sam by now, so while his DI was wondering what the hell was going on, Gene was able to punch him in the stomach causing him to double over and to turn him around, ripping off Sam’s shirt.
“GENE! GENE!” Sam shouted in protest, confused and scared as he felt cool metal against his wrists and the tight shutting of handcuffs.
“That’s it, boy. You can shout but no one can hear you. So go ahead” Gene told him, before stripping off his belt and trousers. Sam kicked out viciously and once Gene had disposed of his underpants, Sam found his ankles being tightly tied together with a shirt. Gene grabbed his hair and pulled Sam so he was kneeling on the floor in front of him. He shoved a screwed up vest into Sam’s mouth, and Sam choked slightly as Gene thrust the material into the back of his throat to make sure Sam couldn’t spit it out.
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