We all know Kaz likes to be the star of the show, and I want him to star in a gangbang. MSF/Kaz, any setup, non/dubcon, voyeurism, humiliation, powerplay? Bonuspoints if Big Boss orchestrates the whole thing.
The fluorescent lighting fixtures overhead were buzzing faintly, but to Kaz’s ears, they might as well have been roaring. It was times like these--stressful times where the tug of a headache or the splitting throng of a migraine always proceeded to gnaw at his temples right before he really got frustrated--that his ears blocked out all of the sounds in the world except for the most tiny ones, like the humming of a bulb that would go out completely in another week, give or take.
That was, in fact, one of many jumbled thoughts his mind was crazily processing along with a multitude of mental curses in both Japanese and English as Finch grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him face-first onto the tabletop, and then he had something new to focus on. Lucky for him he had expected as much from a group of traitors, each converging on him like a pack of vultures targeting specific parts of him--Finch and his shoulders, Lynx and his arms which were now being twisted behind his back, Marlin and his hips, and Jackal and his head--so it didn
( ... )
It was a nice effort and, to the men that hadn’t been expecting it but were prepared beforehand, gutsy enough to be cute. If it wasn’t, the image of him, a flushed mess, sweat beading at his forehead, eyes defiantly staring up at them, on his back outstretched on the hard linoleum floor would be. To a casual observer, the scene that was playing out resembled something right out of nature--a group of predators encircling smaller prey--with Kaz little more then a cornered animal, trapped and hopeless and all but snarling. And like an animal, he would have no qualms with chewing his leg out of the trap if it salvaged some shred of pride; no one in this room doubted that he was resourceful enough to put up a damn good fight before being taken, least of all Big Boss.
"If he tries anything stupid, make him regret it," he had said. "Don’t hold back."The men were enthusiastic to make their Boss proud, both of them. For all they knew, this was an elaborate test -- an extended training exercise. They wouldn’t slip up and made sure to take Big
( ... )
They saluted. Big Boss wordlessly stood up and unlocked the door, allowing them to pass before bolting it again and turning to take in Kaz’s huddled form on the floor. His face was streaked with white and his cheeks had a dull flush to him that made him look both exhausted and sick, and his eyes were still narrowed in that stubborn glare, though the fire had gone out. The strain had taken a toll on him, emotionally and physically, and he chuckled when Big Boss began to approach him
( ... )
And it could have been easy--so easy--if he could only move his hands down where he needed the most attention. The throbbing in his cock had ceased to be pleasant not long after he realized the ascot wouldn’t come off anytime soon, although he hadn’t expected Big Boss would be greedy enough to take advantage of him like this. Now it was just a consistent irritant, a figurative and literal itch that wouldn’t go away. His hips twitched and he rubbed his erection against the side of the table, pitifully. A whimper followed
( ... )
Rope burn from an ascot--his ascot--was the least embarrassing thing to come out of all of this. The winner of that little contest had to be the image of him, an even bigger mess than before, slumped on the floor leaning against the leg of the table--his table--and panting like a dog. He felt slimy and gross, like he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. Something told him he’d need several before the night was over
( ... )
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That was, in fact, one of many jumbled thoughts his mind was crazily processing along with a multitude of mental curses in both Japanese and English as Finch grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him face-first onto the tabletop, and then he had something new to focus on. Lucky for him he had expected as much from a group of traitors, each converging on him like a pack of vultures targeting specific parts of him--Finch and his shoulders, Lynx and his arms which were now being twisted behind his back, Marlin and his hips, and Jackal and his head--so it didn ( ... )
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"If he tries anything stupid, make him regret it," he had said. "Don’t hold back."The men were enthusiastic to make their Boss proud, both of them. For all they knew, this was an elaborate test -- an extended training exercise. They wouldn’t slip up and made sure to take Big ( ... )
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I'll be in my bunk.
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S for Sexy. This was friggin' perfect.
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