FILLED, PART 3
anonymous
June 9 2011, 17:53:00 UTC
Worse, the mechanical hand was sliding down his chest, and was it supposed to be so hot? Literally, that is; no way he was going to get off on this. The next second, the prosthetic was inches from his face and - crack - the index finger had popped open and there was a lighter-grade flame fanning out. Goddammit--
The moment Zadornov moved that hand, Kaz caught himself gasping, and he actually cried out when the flame barely licked his nipple, only to be soon withdrawn again. The same procedure on the other side of his chest, and after that the hand flicked along his upper arm and back. The latter made Kaz yelp both in a strange sort of pleasure and the fear of lacking any means of control that would allow him to prevent a burn when he couldn't even see it. Fine, so he did sort of enjoy pain when it came to playing rough with Snake, but this was just...
Actually, it was the only thing that contributed to his rising state of arousal. Realizing that once he'd finally chanced a glimpse down, visual confirmation added to feeling it, Kaz had the sudden urge to crawl under a rock and not come out until the next century - not to mention the mere idea that Zadornov might have gauged his response ahead of time was enough to send him seething with quiet rage. He wasn't even uncomfortable anymore, never fucking mind what Zadornov was doing to him down there; rather all his senses were focused on the fleeting touches of dangerous heat. When the flame stayed a little too long on his hip, he felt the teasing heat turn into pain and threw his head back, for the first time unironically moaning.
Best of all, that sensation was disembodied. He could close his eyes and just as easily imagine Snake's hand wielding his malfunction-prone zippo.
It was a good thing in the end for all involved that Zadornov had had a head start on the excitement, because otherwise Kaz would've finished a long while before him thanks to the fiery stimulation. As things stood now, they were more or less synchronized, though he wasn't going to thank Zadornov for turning the flame off at the last minute and wrapping the still-heated hand around Kaz's cock to push him off the edge. In that moment, pain and bliss were exquisitely the same.
Stillness. Then, as soon as he could manage, Kaz shakily got up, looking pointedly to the side again. To his credit, Zadornov upheld his part of the bargain and let him go.
"Mind if I use your water," Kaz grunted, not waiting for an answer before he turned the makeshift faucet in the corner on, splashing it where he felt dirtiest. Repeatedly. He used the fresh towel he'd brought along with the coffee to wipe himself dry, too. Served Zadornov right to have to use it now.
Once he'd put his discarded clothes on again and smoothed his hair back, he could almost pretend none of this had ever happened. Whatever triumph that was, however, it proved ridiculously short-lived when heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs and towards the section of the brig that housed Zadornov's cell.
In a perfect contrast to the heat earlier, Kaz felt his blood run cold at the voice. "Kaz? Hurry it up over there, we're off!"
Snake.
And while Kaz scrambled out of the cell, too panicked right now to think about the wider consequences, Zadornov kept to simply observing him from where he was still slumped on the floor, looking even more smug than Kaz remembered. "Enjoy your mission," he remarked, while Kaz kicked the door shut and made sure to lock.
The problem with problems was that they couldn't stay in.
Worse, the mechanical hand was sliding down his chest, and was it supposed to be so hot? Literally, that is; no way he was going to get off on this. The next second, the prosthetic was inches from his face and - crack - the index finger had popped open and there was a lighter-grade flame fanning out. Goddammit--
The moment Zadornov moved that hand, Kaz caught himself gasping, and he actually cried out when the flame barely licked his nipple, only to be soon withdrawn again. The same procedure on the other side of his chest, and after that the hand flicked along his upper arm and back. The latter made Kaz yelp both in a strange sort of pleasure and the fear of lacking any means of control that would allow him to prevent a burn when he couldn't even see it. Fine, so he did sort of enjoy pain when it came to playing rough with Snake, but this was just...
Actually, it was the only thing that contributed to his rising state of arousal. Realizing that once he'd finally chanced a glimpse down, visual confirmation added to feeling it, Kaz had the sudden urge to crawl under a rock and not come out until the next century - not to mention the mere idea that Zadornov might have gauged his response ahead of time was enough to send him seething with quiet rage. He wasn't even uncomfortable anymore, never fucking mind what Zadornov was doing to him down there; rather all his senses were focused on the fleeting touches of dangerous heat. When the flame stayed a little too long on his hip, he felt the teasing heat turn into pain and threw his head back, for the first time unironically moaning.
Best of all, that sensation was disembodied. He could close his eyes and just as easily imagine Snake's hand wielding his malfunction-prone zippo.
It was a good thing in the end for all involved that Zadornov had had a head start on the excitement, because otherwise Kaz would've finished a long while before him thanks to the fiery stimulation. As things stood now, they were more or less synchronized, though he wasn't going to thank Zadornov for turning the flame off at the last minute and wrapping the still-heated hand around Kaz's cock to push him off the edge. In that moment, pain and bliss were exquisitely the same.
Stillness. Then, as soon as he could manage, Kaz shakily got up, looking pointedly to the side again. To his credit, Zadornov upheld his part of the bargain and let him go.
"Mind if I use your water," Kaz grunted, not waiting for an answer before he turned the makeshift faucet in the corner on, splashing it where he felt dirtiest. Repeatedly. He used the fresh towel he'd brought along with the coffee to wipe himself dry, too. Served Zadornov right to have to use it now.
Once he'd put his discarded clothes on again and smoothed his hair back, he could almost pretend none of this had ever happened. Whatever triumph that was, however, it proved ridiculously short-lived when heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs and towards the section of the brig that housed Zadornov's cell.
In a perfect contrast to the heat earlier, Kaz felt his blood run cold at the voice. "Kaz? Hurry it up over there, we're off!"
Snake.
And while Kaz scrambled out of the cell, too panicked right now to think about the wider consequences, Zadornov kept to simply observing him from where he was still slumped on the floor, looking even more smug than Kaz remembered. "Enjoy your mission," he remarked, while Kaz kicked the door shut and made sure to lock.
The problem with problems was that they couldn't stay in.
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