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Reinhardt sat down in his new office, messing around with the desk, still trying to get used to it in the first place. It was such an odd situation, he felt like he still hadn't woken up yet. For a month he has been living with the parasite in his body, taunting him, teasing him to no end. He couldn't take anymore and... sexually assaulted a fellow Overwatch member.
It would have made sense to have him discharged. But given it was a very unique situation with the parasite they had to find a way to contain him. A founding member of Overwatch loose on the streets with a parasite making him a rapist wouldn't really be good publicity, besides, he was still an incredibly powerful asset to Overwatch, and still one of their strongest agents.
And so he had been given a different role, and a special made office to go with it. As the "Disciplinary Officer" he tried to get comfortable with it, but he felt out of place. It seemed ordinary at first glance, but it was highly bullet proof and sound proof, down to the windows letting the bright daylight in, the reason why was simple.
To give him freedom to do as he pleased with disobedient agents.
"Two birds one stone..." He muttered to himself, trying to remind himself of it over and over again. The whole thing was Jack Morrisons idea. Reinhardt gets to let out any of his frustration while they worked on removing the parasite or making medicine so he could live with it without hurting others. And at the same time, he could punish misbehaving agents.
It was even more wild to him that this whole idea was suggested by Morrison, especially after Reinhardt had... well. He couldn't bring himself to say to the word in his head, but after he had... forced, himself onto Jack. Reinhardt supposed it was probably the fact it was such an old friend and how much of a mess he was afterwards that showed how much control the parasite had over him.
"Trust me. we're gonna love this."
He let out an exhausted sigh, as he felt the gentle kiss on his neck, hands stroking his suited chest and inner thigh.
None of this was actually happening, of course. But the parasite had control over Reinhardt's body down to the signals in his brain, making him hallucinate the parasite a physical form, nearly identical to himself, aside from it's blood red iris.
He hated that he, no, that *thing* was so right. The parasite hadn't let Reinhardt cum since the last time with Jack, teasing him with ruined orgasms from time to time when he jacked off, if he was allowed even that. But it had been keeping his libido up at almost all times, making him as desperate and needy as possible. But when he did orgasm, good lord.
It was heaven. It managed to change the scenery, to a nice house party at his home, hidden away from the unsuspecting party members but not enough that there wasn't the danger of being caught. But the two were so needy, so desperate for each other they didn't care. Of course, it was all just a hallucination to distract Reinhardt from what he was really doing to Jack in the dark alleyway. But it was a wet dream come true.
He ignored the parasite, refusing to give it any satisfaction with a verbal response, knowing that damned thing was reading his mind and emotions.
A knock came at the door. A few minutes late from the scheduled appointment, their first client.
"First client? With what we're doing to him, first victim seems more accurate, isn't it?" The parasite chuckled
"Come in." Reinhardt said loudly, interrupting the parasite. He just wanted to get this done and over with.
McCree walked in, closing the door behind him. God, he knew it was the parasite, but it felt like he was wearing tighter clothes. It was hard to take his eyes off of, the tiny bit of chest showing from the top of his shirt, the way the button up wrapped his body so well. And the way his pants wrapped around his ass so tight. ...It's almost like he's asking for it. There's no way he didn't wear those revealing clothes just casually, right?
Gritting his hand so hard, he snapped the pencil in his hand, bringing him back to reality. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself down, hiding the fact he had snapped the pencil to not alert McCree.
"Sit down." Reinhardt said, trying to recollect himself. It was just the parasite, and it's just his regular clothes. He isn't asking for it, and there's no need to make this worse for both of them. Just, do your job. Reinhardt thought to himself.
McCree sat down, leaning back and putting his feet on Reinhardt's desk. It was clear as day why exactly he had been sent in for disciplinary action, but Reinhardt had put on his reading glasses, and began looking at the reports. It was unprofessional of him to have not read this prior in the first place, but it helped make the atmosphere heavier to sit in silence reading them.
"So, I assume you're aware why you've been called in here?" Reinhardt asked
"Because of my impressive skills and good behavior, clearly." McCree retorted, scoffing.
It was a surprisingly large stack of reports, from several different members. Several reports of Jesse McCree ignoring protocol during missions and putting him and his team mates in danger, other notes of sexual harassments to other members of Overwatch.
His skills were no doubt impressive, on paper he's been able to hit impressive quick fire shots, and been able to hit targets that would nearly require a sniper rifle with just a pistol. But it was his arrogance that was weighing him down. Having intentionally charged ahead of everyone or split off from the group entirely, and nearly getting them all killed or failing the mission due to his over confidence.
Unfortunately, Reinhardt empathized with him. He had been there before when he was younger. He was skilled, and handsome, but it took him the hard way out to find that there's more than just that required on a battle field. He was determined to do his job now, he didn't want McCree to have to lose someone to realize the error of his ways.
"It's more... Arrogan-"
"Confidence, in my skills." McCree interrupted
"...Arrogance, and constant disrespect to your superiors" Reinhardt continued from where he was interrupted
McCree scoffed, ignoring him
He inhaled sharply. "And how do you explain the sexual harassment?"
"Hey that never happened! Just teasing, you know?"
"You have told people in explicit detail the things you would do to them, without their permission to do so first, and groped several members."
"It was just joking around! Not my fault they couldn't take a joke."
Reinhardt set his glasses down on the table in front of him, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard getting through to McCree, especially since he was so confident he was in the right, despite having a stack of papers explaining to him how he really isn't. It was a shame, honestly. There were so many new recruits who had shown promise but lacked confidence that they had started to build.
McCree on the other hand, showed an astonishing amount of skill, but an impressive arrogance that just make him a liability on the battle field, rather than putting his skills to proper use.
"Really getting into the roleplay now, aren't you?" He heard an all too familiar voice sneer into his ear.
"If they expected people to be able to get through to him with just words, don't you think they would have done that by now? He's here for more *severe* punishment." The parasite whispered into his ear, the warm breath heating up his ear as it talked
It was right. It was unfortunate, but yet again, it was right.
He let out a heavy sigh, sitting up from his desk and standing over to where McCree was. He knew what he had to do. He gave McCree's shoulder a rub with his firm hands, squeezing his own bulge through the suited pants.
"Maybe... There's another way you can gain my approval?" Implied Reinhardt, his bulge growing slowly.
"What the fuck? Hell no!" McCree stood up from the chair, shoving his hand off of his shoulder. Within seconds McCree was up and out of his chair, storming off to the door. He reached for the handle, locked in place with a click of a button from Reinhardt. He slammed his body weight against it, determined to break the door down instead. All he was met with was a loud metal sound and a sore shoulder. It was build that way. A regular seeming door, changing into a firm vault door with a click of a button. The vents were the weakest point in the room, but hell, they were designed to make sure whoever tried to go into them would get stuck with their lower half vulnerable.
"Don't be like that McCree! I'm just joking."
Reinhardt pinned McCree against the wall, holding his arms and place and began dry humping the cow boy, fucking him against the door he was so desperately trying to escape through.
"Get off of me! You're so fucked once I tell the Commander!" McCree threatened, trying to wrestle free of Reinhardt's grip
"It's no use. Besides, what do you think is going to happen realistically? I get reported, I go see the "Disciplinary Officer" by, well, standing in place. And then, I slap myself on my wrist."
The two were quiet for a moment, just the sounds of their struggling filling the room. It was clear McCree couldn't answer it, hell, he didn't want to think about it. But Reinhardt wanted him to.
"Do you think he doesn't know? You do realize you got a "medical examination" yesterday for this, didn't you?"
Hearing those words, he went limp, stopping trying to struggle all together. It couldn't have been from him wearing himself out, having trained much more. It was the realization that the enema, the anus dilator and the rectal medication was all for this. Hell, the fasting for the day was probably for it as well.
"You don't really have a choice. Ah... Actually, you do. Would you still prefer we do it in the hallway? Not much of an exhibitionist myself, but I do suppose it would be good to have your peers watch... Or, you could sit down."
Reinhardt eased up his grip, letting McCree go to sit down in the chair. He sat down with an aggressive pout, like a child told he has to come in for recess after finding a really cool bug.
"Good job. You can do anything you want to him now." The parasite spoke, grinning at Reinhardt.
It wasn't a good feeling to get a nod of agreement from it, but he did have a certain bit of pride in getting McCree to behave a bit. Not to mention, the annoyed and humiliated look was much more pleasing to look at on McCrees face than a smug grin.
"Aha! What's wrong? Can't take a joke?" Reinhardt mocked, shoving his words back in his face.
He could tell McCree hadn't learned his lesson just yet. No, in fact, his discipline had barely begun.