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It has finally arrived!
Soap eagerly opens the package with shaking hands, hoping it was as good as the insanely expensive price tag has promised it would be.
The machine inside the non-descript box certainly looked heavy duty enough.
It takes Soap no time at all to assemble it, it being nothing compared to a ticking bomb, of course, and then he just sits back and admires it for a bit.
His very own fuck machine.
Soap would feel shame if he hadn’t given up on that emotion some time ago.
Shame is only useful if it turns you on.
Being career military, and being gay, Soap had realized a long time ago if he wanted to progress through the ranks – and he really did – he was going to have to take care of his own needs or risk being found out one day and losing the only place he ever felt normal.
He was never giving up the military, so being gay had to be sacrificed.
And he tried. He tried dating lasses as much as he could, but it never really worked out for him. It didn’t satisfy the need he had, the itch that gnawed at him when he went to long ignoring it.
So, after a few years, he gave up on dating entirely and tried the anonymous bathroom fucks.
But that still didn’t scratch that itch he had.
Soap loved getting fucked. Namely, he liked feeling helpless and being fucked to within an inch of his life by a very large cock. Feeling completely wrecked afterwards.
He loved when his hole is so fucked out it can’t close for at least 20 minutes.
That made it rather challenging when bathroom hookups lasted all of 15 minutes.
So, he turned to self-pleasuring, toys, and BDSM clubs when he was in any big city. Big enough to be completely anonymous, of course.
He doesn’t have the luxury of that often, but some five months ago, he was stuck in Colorado for three weeks by himself on an operation. There, the BDSM club he went to had a Dominant that had strapped him to a kneeling table, put a fuck-machine up his arse, and left it on for an hour.
By the time Soap had been released, he was flying so high he didn’t come down for a solid day.
The Dom in question has been too into degradation for Soap’s taste – calling him all manner of filthy name in a cold and, frankly, nasty tone – but the machine… the table… those he had loved.
He had been thinking about nothing else but how to get his hands on one of them.
Now it was finally here and Soap couldn’t wait to try it out!
He assembles it carefully, and puts a medium sized dildo on it, then lubes it up well.
Soap inserts three fingers into his own hole, just to make sure his previous stretching is still good for the job, and inserts a little more lube in there just to be on the safe side. Then he positions himself on a towel, on his bed, with a large, firm pillow under his hips, and using the remote, turns it on.
The machine starts to slowly fuck in and out of him, completely impersonal and lovely.
Soap moans softly into the pillow under his head and just lets himself feel the sensation of that slow but relentless fucking.
It feels so good, and his cock is already hard and leaking precome.
After a while, he increases the speed to medium, wanting to feel what the machine can do, and right away, the cock that is driving into him starts thrusting even faster.
Like a metronome, there is no break, no pause like how a real man would need, just relentless and undeniable sensation, and Soap groans deep in his chest.
This is the best buy ever!
Almost mindless with pleasure, he presses the button for the highest setting.
And shouts – nearly screams – at how fast the thing fucks him suddenly! It hits his prostate over and over and over and he comes without so much as thinking of touching himself!
Crying out, he shoots rope after rope of come –
Then nearly sobs because the thing doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even pause, just keeps fucking him, and Soap feels the first sensations of flying tickle his senses.
Overstimulated and nearly crying from how goodgoodgoodtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch it feels all at once.
Within moments, he is coming again – even harder than the first time, orgasm forced out of him by the machine so fast and hard he is left gasping, eyes completely unseeing for long moments.
His shaking hands nearly can’t adjust the setting to the lowest one, so that he is still getting fucked but not so brutally as before. Finally, he manages. Then he spends the next hour letting the thing fuck the living daylights out of him, coming once more.
By the time he is done, he can hardly move enough to turn it off and dislodge it from his used hole.
He doesn’t even have the energy to move himself off the now-wet towel, falling asleep so deeply that he doesn’t even dream.
---
Soap feels that subspace high for half the morning after he wakes up, content, sore and so relaxed he feels like he is actually floating.
A part of him would have liked to have a Dom there to help him while he’s in subspace, but he is home, and safe, and if it feels a little lonely, that’s alright, since some sacrifices have to be made.
It is still the most content he has felt for ages. The only thing that feels anywhere near as good is when he is with his team, all of them working seamlessly with each other to achieve their objectives, or just hanging out. Being a team, a family.
Overall, it is the best money he spent on himself in forever.
---
Sadly, his leave isn’t that long and the following day he has to pack the machine away into his bedroom closet, and head back.
Gaz comments that he looks well-rested and happy, and asks if he had a particularly good hookup with someone.
Soap just smiles lazily at him, and asks Gaz if he is jealous, but he does notice Ghost eyeing him also, so he tries to keep his wide grin to a minimum even though he is still feeling the edges of subspace tickling him.
The next time he is on leave – and honestly, one of the best things Price has done for them, is find them all housing an hour drive from the base in the same city, so that the commute doesn’t involve dealing with civilian air-flights – he unpacks his kneeling bench.
He loves the sensation of being tied down, and he’s been thinking about how it would feel to be completely at the mercy of the machine when he can’t get away from it.
Soap isn’t stupid, he knows he has to be careful, since he is alone, and it isn’t like he can safeword out or tell a Dom to make it all stop.
He opts to only ties his legs up, and leaves his hands free, fingers clutching the remote, and a side table nearby with a bottle of lube and water.
He dragged the fuck machine as close to the bench as he can, making sure it would be able to really fuck all the way into him, and after some consideration, he decides to keep the medium dildo on instead of a bigger one since it worked so well last time.
After everything is set up, and his legs are securely tied up with cuffs, he turns it on.
He let the machine massage his insides for a good 20 minutes, moaning softly and letting his head hang down, and his cock bounce impotently between the leather – the bench being the kind with a hole for a dick, not giving him any stimulation but just letting everything swing – and finally feels himself relaxing.
It feels so fucking good, as good as last time if not better, to have something take him over and over like that when he can’t stop it.
Well. He can. But he can pretend.
Soap allows himself to exist there, just being fucked by the relentless thrusting of the thing and lets himself float.
After a while, he increases the speed to the medium setting, and just lets himself be fucked into orgasm after overstimulated orgasm, while his legs clench and tug helplessly against the cuffs holding him. Every time he can’t get away, he feels himself fall a little deeper. It. Is. Amazing.
It is the best high he’s ever experienced, and he knows he is hooked.
It soon becomes a bit of an obsession, and he finds himself using the thing twice a day, not wanting to leave the apartment because he just wants to get fucked and float.
That’s alright though; it’s a longer leave for once, so he can afford it.
He orders take out more often than not, and just let himself enjoy it.
But, after a few days, the sensation of just his legs being tied becomes… not enough.
He wants the full body experience. The thing he felt the first time he was strapped to the bench, back in Colorado, and left to be used for an hour.
Soap knows it’s a bit risky, but he figures, he should be able to manage, if he holds the keys of the cuffs in one hand, and the remote in the other… he is rather used to the machine by now, it not being so overwhelming like that first time, so why not?
He also – maybe foolishly – decides to try a bigger dildo.
This time, he opts for the Bad-Dragon model – a pale white dildo almost the size of his fist. He’s used it a few times before, though never on the fuck machine, and it always felt amazing. His hole gaped afterwards deliciously.
It isn’t quite so big as a fist, of course – Soap isn’t quite brave enough to try that yet, and you’d need a partner for it anyway – but it does make him want something… wider. Girthier.
A thought of Ghost briefly filters through his mind. He knows his Lieutenant is hung like a horse. Not so much long, even though he is, but his dick is seriously fat, wide and just… substantial, if you will, and he has a mushroom head that Soap as an artist drools over.
…okay, maybe not just because he is an artist.
Sue him. His Lt. is one of the most beautiful men Soap has ever met, and if the man isn’t so painfully heterosexual, or well, maybe just uninterested in anyone, Soap might have tried something past their regular flirting.
But his Lt. never gave any indication that he was truly interested, and Soap doesn’t want to fuck up a good thing.
Contrary to popular belief, Soap knows when to not push his luck… when it came to people anyway.
Ghost is his commanding officer, but he is also Soap’s best friend – though Soap isn’t always sure Ghost knows that – and he would rather cut off his own balls than risk screwing that up.
Still, he could fantasize.
Soap is a champion at fantasizing.
So, he straps the large dildo he calls Simon in his head – he is the only one who knows, so what’s the harm? – to the fuck machine.
Then straps his legs in like he does every time, positions himself properly, then chewing his lips in a little bit of indecision, he straps his left hand in, puts the keys of the cuffs into the strapped left hand, and after some more indecision, decides he can’t really strap his right hand in, since he needs at least one hand to unlock himself with.
Sighing a little in disappointment, he reaches back to check that his hole is stretched enough – and realizes he almost can’t reach. He can only really put the tips of his fingers into his hole without dislocating his shoulder. But he should be alright.
Clutching the keys in his left hand tightly, he takes a deep breath and turns on the machine with the remote in his right.
Oh, holy fucking – Mary Jesus and Joseph!
Simon feels huge! Maybe it’s the angle – he never tried fucking himself with Simon from behind like this, but fuck, it feels like it’s splitting him in two!
He always went slow with Simon, but this time, he can’t. The machine simply fucks him in that consistent, relentless rhythm, never letting him catch his breath.
He feels deliciously forced open, and it makes him moan so loudly. Simon is also long – the same length as Ghost, Soap thinks, so it immediately reaches his prostate, even at the lowest setting, grazing against it tantalizingly.
Soap feels slow, tiny, bursts of light go off behind his eyelids at how good it feels. Sucking in a breath, he hangs his head, feeling his cock throb at how achingly hard it already was.
Simon splits him wide, and keeps him open the entire time, never pulling out, and Soap loses himself imagining Ghost would be the same. Relentless force and dominance, taking Soap like he is entitled to him.
It feels so fucking good.
He feels his first orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, and he tugs at his legs and left hand, just to feel the cuffs hold him tight, and aye, he isn’t going anywhere. The only thing better would be to feel Ghost’s fingers digging into his hips, but he can picture Ghost tying him up to use him.
It isn’t even much of a stretch with how mean a bastard Ghost usually is.
Soap moans at the image, picturing Ghost behind him, thrusting relentlessly into him, stretching him wide open, and maybe saying things like, “You slag, you love it, look how wide your hole is. Soon it won’t even be able to grip me.”
Soap feels dizzy from how good it feels, and that’s when he makes his first mistake.
Wanting to come, he presses the button to increase the speed of the machine. But because his hands are shaking so much, he presses the button twice.
Immediately, Simon THUSTS into him with such force and speed, Soap chokes from the sudden pleasure of Simon hitting his prostate straight on.
His feet and hands open wide in startled shock, and it only takes a second for Soap to realize his hand is open and the keys are falling. Without thinking, his right hand shoots forward to try and catch the falling keys.
That is his second mistake.
The remote in his right hand goes flying from the force of his shooting hand try and catch the falling keys, and clatters into the wall, 5 meters away from him. The keys of the cuffs drop just below him but to the left and Soap knows he can’t reach them no matter how much he contorts or stretches.
He has only a moment to think, oh Fuck. Before the THRUST THRUST THRUST registers against his prostate and he is screaming and coming so hard he whites out for a moment.
His hole clenches as hard as it can against Simon, trying to milk it, but being that the machine is still set on the highest setting possible, it doesn’t so much as make a lick of difference in slowing it down.
Simon thrusts into Soap, over and over and over again, and Soap is honestly screaming in pleasured pain now, so overstimulated after coming like that, and the damned thing still. Kept. Hitting. His. Prostate!
Soap sobs, partly in panic and partly in pleasure, because his cock is trying to come again and he can’t – he can’t !
But evidently, he can, because his cock gives a pathetic twitch and comes again, the sensation so intense Soap feels his toes curling.
He doesn’t get a break, of course, Simon is still pistoning into his hole at that inhuman speed, and Soap is starting to be mindless with the sensation.
It is more pain than pleasure now, and that has him frantically reaching for the cuff holding his left hand down, but it’s no use. He can’t pick a lock with no tools, and he can’t concentrate while his prostate is being raped by the machine to such a degree that he literally doesn’t have two braincells left to rub together.
He feels his spine arch as he tries to come again, screaming and thrashing but it’s no use.
He can’t get away!
Soap is starting to panic because it’s starting to hurt again –
What the fuck is he going to do?
He tries reaching back, to push himself away from the machine, but the kneeling bench is too heavy, and he is tied too securely down.
He sobs, feeling the machine force him closer and closer into another painful orgasm, and he feels light-headed from both the pleasure, the pain and the panic.
Think Johnny! What can he do?
Then his eyes land on the phone on the side table –
Oh fuck.
He could call…
Gaz is visiting his mum in London. Price is an hour away on base.
That leaves… oh fucking hell, he is going to have to –
Wanting to die of mortification but choosing not to die from getting fucked to death since the machine is plugged into the wall socket and won’t run out of power before Soap runs out of – everything, he shakily tries to reach the phone with his untied right hand but it’s trembling so much he knows he’ll just drop that too.
So instead, he says, “Siri!” but then he had to let out a sobbing moan because oh Jesus he’s – he’s –
He coming again! Cock twitching so painfully he feels tears slide down his cheeks, and when he can hear again –
“ – please repeat that, I did not understand.”
“Siri, call Ghost!” and if that’s a bit shouted, at least Siri understands this time, and says, “Acknowledged, Calling Ghost.”
Waiting for Ghost to pick up is the longest six rings of Soap’s life.
“’lo?”
Gritting his teeth, Soap sobs out, “Ghost! Help!”
Ghost is thankfully immediately alert, “Johnny? Where are you?”
But just then Soap screams again as another orgasm rips through him, and he’s panting so hard he’s sure Ghost can hear him.
“Johnny! Where are you?!”
“H-home! I’m – I’m home! Please hurry!” He chokes out, and he must sound bad, because he can hear Ghost running, “I’m coming. Hold on Johnny.”
But Soap is already hanging his head down and sobbing in sensation, breath hitching. He must sound like he’s being tortured, because Ghost yells into the phone, “How many hostiles Johnny?”
“N-n-n-none! Just me! Hel-l-l-p me Ghost, please oh god please, please it hurts so much!” Soap is feeling delirious from the sensation, and he knows he won’t last till Ghost makes it to him before he passes out if he doesn’t find a way to remove Simon from his prostate somehow!
“Fuck, I’m coming Johnny, just – just hold on, alright?” Soap can hear the car door slamming and the engine turning on, then a screech of tires as Ghost pulls out at speed –
He can’t – he can’t keep talking to Ghost or he is going to blab everything out – he’s already so high from the pleasure-pain, so he yells, “Siri, hang up!”
He hears Ghost say, “Wait, J—” but the line goes dead thankfully, because Soap groans pitifully again as another wave of pleasure rocks through him, so intense it leaves him breathless and panting for long minutes.
He reaches his shaky hand behind himself, and with all the energy he has left, manages to grab Simon, and using the in-out of the machine, he pushes himself, just a fraction forward.
It’s only a few centimeters, but it stops Simon from slamming into his prostate finally, and Soap lets out a relieved breath.
It’s still grazing his prostate relentlessly, but at least it isn’t battering it mercilessly anymore and Soap can finally suck in a breath.
He tries one more time to push himself forward in the same way, but his strength fails him, and he just hangs limply in the bindings, letting Simon fuck him. It’s starting to feel pleasurable more than painful again, and Soap dreads Ghost finding him like this, but he has no choice.
Glancing between his legs, he feels his cheeks sting in embarrassment from how big a puddle of come is on his floor. Clear evidence of how much he loves it, despite… despite…
He must have come five or six times by now.
…and he’s going to come again. He didn’t even know men could come so many times, but…
Oh fuck, Simon keeps grazing that spot inside him that makes him see stars, and Soap clenches his teeth, his left hand and both legs tense in the bindings, his right hand grips the leather so hard he thinks he’s going to break it, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph’s illegitimate child, he has never felt like this in his life!
It’s so fucking intense, and if he could, he would have safeworded out four orgasms ago, but he can’t.
He can only lie there, and let Simon fuck him and fuck him and fuck him on that huge silicone and – he doesn’t even dare picture his hole right now.
He wonders if it looks like a rose.
Soap hysterically remembers that he saw that once on a porno, when another man was being fisted so deep, his asshole came out, making a strangely attractive anal rose. The man fisting him had moaned, and sucked the entire thing into his mouth, and Soap had gripped his cock so hard he left bruises on it from how hard he came watching that.
Maybe his arsehole will look like that now.
His delirious mind has a stray thought wondering if Ghost will find it beautiful, till he remembers Ghost isn’t into blokes.
He doesn’t know how long he lies there getting fucked. He loses all sense of time after he hung up with Ghost.
He doesn’t even know how many more times he comes until he hears rattling from the door, and then Ghost’s very firm foot breaking his front door down, shouting, “Johnny!”
Soap whimpers, because Ghost is finally here.
Ghost is safe, and everything will be okay now.
Ghost clearly hears him, because he comes running into Soap’s bedroom, gun raised and – stops so suddenly that Soap wonders if he slammed into an invisible wall.
Soap barely has the energy to lift his head, but thankfully the kneeling bench is facing the door so Ghost sees his face first –
And Soap’s treacherous, fucked out brain, lets out a frankly lewd moan upon seeing him, because Ghost isn’t wearing his mask.
Ghost ran out of his house, without his mask, because he was in such a hurry to save Soap.
The look on Ghost’s face is… stunned. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is open in a perfect O and it would be fucking funny if Soap isn’t about to come again !
He sobs, and arches, and moans and thrashes in his bindings and comes again, and fuck it hurts – how can he still come?!
And that’s what finally snaps Ghost out of his stupor.
He walks quickly over to the back, to see the machine fucking Soap –
“Fuckin’ hell!”
Soap hears him breathe, as if he is honestly in shock, and Soap has to moan, because… because maybe he always wanted to see how he would affect Ghost with his sexuality, but maybe not like this.
A few long breaths go past with nothing happening, and Soap has to let out another moan from between clenched teeth because it’s so intense and it still isn’t stopping –
And then it does.
It finally stops.
Ghost must have pulled the socket out of the wall.
Simon is buried deep inside him, having stopped at the deepest point, it’s silicone cockhead resting right on Soap’s prostate, so maddeningly close, but… but it finally stopped.
“Just – hold on. I’ll…“ but Ghost trails off, and Soap just tries to keep breathing.
Every inhale pushes Simon against his prostate a little more, and Soap can’t help twitching at the sensation.
Soap tries to turn his head, to see what Ghost is doing, and he catches Ghost staring at the machine, clearly unsure how to remove it from Soap without hurting him.
“Pull it out.” Soap slurs, because he can’t talk clearly anymore. “Take Simon out of me before I – cockhead is resting on my – please Ghost!”
Soap feels so dizzy. His whole body is wet from sweat and exertions, and now that everything has stopped, he can feel how much he is trembling.
He hopes he isn’t going into shock.
Ghost curses behind him, and Soap can’t see clearly because his wet mohawk has fallen into his eyes, so he looks away, and then his eyes try to cross, because Ghost has simply picked up the machine and is dragging it carefully out of Soap’s battered hole.
It feels like it’s a fist leaving him, and he wonders for a delirious moment if he really will have a rose for an anus now…
He hears Ghost set the machine down, and then…
He feels more than hears him stand behind Soap’s open wide hole.
Then he feels… fingers. He feels Ghost’s fingers, touching his hole, gently, but –
Soap moans, and his whole body spasms, because it’s so insanely sensitive he wants to scream.
Ghost makes a noise behind him, like a sucked in breath, then the fingers leave his hole, and Ghost clears his throat, and says, “It’s not… it’s not bleeding, at least.”
Soap honestly doesn’t have the energy to care, now that it’s finally stopped, he is less than coherent, but his dick is somehow – and this has to be from overstimulation – still fucking hard.
He has no idea how there is still blood in there, but it’s… he’s hard. It throbs with his heartbeat and he is sure Ghost can see it.
Ghost comes over, and runs a hand down Soap’s back, maybe for comfort, but it feels so fucking good, to be touch by a hand – Ghost’s hand – that Soap arches and lets out a moan for the sensation.
“Fuck, Johnny. Look at you. You’re completely gone.”
“Ghossssst.” Soap slurs, trying to look at him, but knows his face must look fucked out. One of the Doms he played with once told him he had an exceptionally pretty fucked-out face. All soft, pliant mouth and big dopy eyes… he hopes Ghost likes it.
Ghost is staring at his face, and Soap can see his eyes dilating and … fuck.
Ghost… Ghost likes what he sees.
But then Ghost surprises him, and asks, “Simon?”
And for a moment, Soap has no idea why Ghost is saying his own name to him.
Then Soap remembers saying to take Simon out of him.
He feels his face flush even more, and he wants to hang his head in defeat but… Ghost has already seen him completely humiliated. What’s one more?
He has to swallow a few times, and Ghost quickly opens the bottle of water, and makes him drink a little carefully. He spills some, but most of it makes it down his parched throat.
When he can finally speak, he almost wishes he can’t.
“Aye, Lt. Sorry. You have a beautiful cock. Knew you weren’t interested, don’t worry, but… what a bloke does behind closed doors and all that?”
He lets out a weak chuckle, but he has to look away, because aye he’s fucked all of this up so royally. He’ll be lucky if his career isn’t over.
“Swear I wasnna gonna make a move on ye. Just…“ he bites his lip before he can say more, because this is already too much.
Ghost stands there, but Soap can’t look at him, he hangs his head down, finally, in defeat, and just… feels his idiotic cock throb. He knows it’s because he is overstimulated, but also because Ghost is right there, and Soap is naked, and tied down, and helpless, and Ghost is fully dressed and… it’s so close to every fantasy he’s ever had – Soap squeezes his eyes shut till he sees strobing lights.
Then, he feels Ghost’s calloused and huge hand on his chin, lifting his face up and – Soap has no choice but to look at him.
He realizes at some point, Ghost has crouched down, and he is looking at Soap’s eyes.
Ghost’s eyes are… hot. His eyes are hot. And Soap isn’t sure it’s because he is angry or –
“What, exactly, makes you think, I wasn’t interested?” he rasps, and Soap blinks.
Then blinks again, because he cannae mean –
“You – what?”
The Ghost does the most terrifying thing Soap has ever seen him do, he smiles.
It’s a… it’s a nice smile. Wide. A little mean…
Soap’s cock twitches.
Ghost doesn’t answer him, but suddenly, Soap has to suck in a breath, because a finger, a very gentle, calloused finger, is stroking a line down his painfully throbbing cock.
“I said, what made you think, I wasn’t interested?” and the thing is, his tone is so fucking reasonable that Soap actually has to question everything he has ever thought about in regards to Ghost, which led him to that particular conclusion.
“I – Lt. I just assumed –“ Soap nearly bites his tongue off because that finger strokes his cock – so fucking gently – once more, and around his over-sensitized head, and it’s so intense that Soap’s whole body jerks with it.
“You are so hard, Soap. Still so hard even though you came…” a glance down, and then Ghost’s eyes look back at Soap, and Soap can feel his face heat again, because he did come. A lot.
“Bit of a slag, aren’t you, Johnny? Need a machine to fuck you, with a cock you named after me. All tied down and then you called me to come save you. A man can get… ideas, Johnny.”
And the thing is? Soap knew Ghost had a wickedly sinful voice, but he has never heard him sound like this before. All dark purr and insinuation.
He wants to deny it, wants to deny that he didn’t do it on purpose but what comes out is, “Aye. I’m… I’m a slag. Need to come, please, Lt.”
His feels the heat flood his cheeks but… Ghost is still holding his chin and looking at him, and Soap can see his eyes are blown.
He… holy fucking shit, Ghost wants him!
Ghost takes a deep breath, as if he is… sniffing. No, he was trying to breath but… the smell of sex and Soap’s sweat is permeating the whole room and Ghost must be able to smell it.
Soap glances at Ghost’s crotch and immediately has to moan because, Ghost is hard!
Really hard.
“Like what you see, Johnny? Even after all that, you still want cock?”
Soap can’t look away from Ghost’s cock, and he feels himself nod, but no, that’s not right.
“Want your cock. Always did.” He admits, even if the shame of that still twists something inside him.
Ghost is staring at him, then he licks his lips and Soap’s eyes immediately zero in on his tongue swiping across that scar of his.
“Is that right? Always been me, has it?”
Soap feels a bit dazed when he nods, when he admits, that aye, for a real long time now, it’s been Ghost, and only Ghost, on his mind.
Ghost is silent for a moment, clearly thinking, and Soap… Soap doesn’t want to lose this chance. If he will only get to have this once, caused by this crazy coincidence, then he has to grab hold and –
“Please Lt.? Fuck me? I’m all stretched out for you already…” He dares to beg, maybe because he is already so humiliated there is nothing left to feel shame about.
Shame is a useless emotion, unless it turns you on.
Ghost’s pupils dilate a little more, and he glances at the table, where the bottle of lube sits.
He doesn’t answer, but he swipes Soap’s hair out of his eyes, and for a moment, he just stares at Soap. Soap doesn’t know what he is looking for, but he lets all the desire he’s feels for Ghost show for the first time in his life, because – because Ghost should know how much Soap wants him.
“Fuck, look at you. You want it bad, don’t you?”
“Want you.” Soap confirms, because he doesn’t actually want sex with anyone else.
Ghost seems to find whatever it is he is looking for, but before he goes to grab the lube, he leans down and Soap has a moment to think Ghost will kiss him, but then he hears a click, and realizes that Ghost has buckled his right hand into the handcuff, and fissure of desire shoots down Soap’s spine so sharply he can barely breathe.
“Better like this, isn’t it? When you can’t move, and can’t get away, and just have to take it. From me.”
Suddenly, Soap is back to being fully turned on. He feels his belly drop out from under him and his cock twitch hard enough he nearly comes.
Ghost clearly sees it, and smirks, then he leans over, and kisses Soap’s cheek, near his ear, and says, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want.”
Soap makes a sound he’s never heard himself make before, kind of a whine, but it’s pure desire. Before he can say anything coherent, Ghost is gone.
Soap can’t turn his head enough to see, but he hears the snick of the lube bottle, then nothing for a beat.
He feels himself flush, because Ghost can absolutely see how stretched his hole is, and he wonder how it looks. If it’s puffy or…
Then he feels Ghost’s fingers return, and Holy Jesus and Mary that’s so fucking intense. The sensation of fingers feels like he is scraping across all of Soap’s nerves and Soap moans loudly, because oh fuck if this is just his fingers how will his cock feel.
“You are all stretched out. Your hole won’t even fully close right now. How long was it before you called me?”
Soap licks his suddenly dry lips and tries to remember, “Dunno, maybe 30? 45?”
Ghost hums, and then pushes what feels like a fist into Soap’s hole.
Soap cries out, body trying to tense but his hole can’t clench, too tired or too fucked out and the – however many fingers that it is, goes in smooth and unresisting and so fucking sensitive Soap wants to cry again.
“Three fingers don’t even slow me down. Such a slag Johnny.”
Soap makes an unintelligible sound, even to himself, and Ghost pauses with all those fingers deep inside him, and just rests them there for a moment.
The Ghost leans over, across his back, and asks quietly, “Is it sensitive? Does it hurt?”
Soap nods, then shakes his head, “So sensitive. Doesn’t hurt. Will. But don’t care. Want you.”
Ghost strokes a hand down his back, the hand not lodged deep inside Soap’s anus, and then Soap’s eyes cross because Ghost twists his fingers, and wiggles them across Soap’s poor battered and swollen prostate and Soap damned near does cry from the sensation.
“You sure? Doesn’t have to be now.”
“Sure! Want you. Please Ghost. Don’t care. Wanted you for so long. Please.” He sobs out, trying to tighten but failing, and that just turns him on more because he is so fucking helpless right now.
“Simon.” Ghost says, “Call me by my name when I fuck you. So you know how the real thing feels.”
Soap nods, and then his hands and legs are clenching against the restrains, because Simon is pulling his fingers out, and it feels like he is pulling Soap’s guts out with them, but Soap just moans because finally, finally he will have him –
He hears a zipper being lowered, and then some wet sounds – lube.
Simon is putting lube on his cock.
“Last chance. Tell me to stop. If you don’t, I won’t stop even if you beg me later.”
“Please Simon, please fuck me. I won’t. I won’t stop you. I’m –” but the ‘yours’ gets swallowed suddenly because Simon is pushing in, and holy fucking hell he is even bigger than the dildo and Soap actually feels a stretch, and it feels so incredibly intense, and painful and good, Soap has to moan out all the air he has inside him.
“That’s it sweet’eart, you just take me now.” Oh, and Simon’s voice is so full of arousal!
Soap did that!
He bottoms out in one slow, languid glide in, and sits himself against Soap’s prostate.
Soap is so swollen inside, he can feel Simon’s heartbeat through his dick.
“Fuck, you feel good Johnny. Still so tight somehow.”
“Big. You’re bigger than –” but Soap can’t finish that thought because Simon starts to move and oh fucking Christ, Soap will die. Soap is going to die and go to heaven, and nothing will be able to save him again – and fucking hell it feels SO INTENSE!!!
Soap arches, unsure if he is trying to get more or get away but the cuffs hold him tight, and he can’t – he can’t get away –
Ghost lets him struggle for a moment, then places one large hand on Soap’s back and pushes him down, then snaps his hips, driving his monster of a cock into Soap’s poor abused prostate, and growls, “Take it.”
And something inside Soap break, and he sobs for real now, gives up and lies there, and let’s Simon take him because yes, he wants this. He wants all of it. He wants –
“Simon!” the scream breaks out of him, and Soap feels Simon’s cock twitch hard in arousal.
Oh.
Simon likes him helpless.
Fuck.
That’s the last coherent thought Soap has before Simon start fucking him for real, and Jesus he isn’t holding back!
He thrust into Soap like Soap is there for his pleasure and his pleasure alone, fucks him deep and hard and nails Soap’s prostate every time he bottoms out.
Soap’s mouth is open now, drool pooling out of it, as he moans and whines and begs incoherently, and he feels his belly tighten, and everything inside him tightens, except his arsehole, and he comes.
Frighteningly hard and so fucking good, he screams and screams and screams like he is being murdered because he is blind with it! He can’t, oh, god, he can’t – please !!
Simon curses behind him, and fucks him harder, snarling, “That’s right, come for me, Johnny. You are so fucked out you can’t even clench can you? But you still –” thrust “want” thrust “more! Don’t you?”
“Simon! Please! Yes yes yes yes.” That’s all Soap can say – shout really – because it’s being fucked out of him, and he does feel like he is dying except it’s the best kind of death because he is flying !
He’s never flown like this before ---
Everything is so –
Soap gives up on everything, on language, on thought, and just… lets himself relax.
It’s still too much. Every push of Ghost’s cock makes electricity zing down his spine and down into his toes but – he just… takes it. Let’s himself be owned by Simon, gives himself to him, let’s himself be used and fucked and –
Soap is flying and he never wants it to stop.
Never wants the sensations to go away, because that would mean Simon has stop and he can’t –
Soap can’t even image that, so he slurs, “Simon, don’t stop. Please. Never stop. Please.” And he isn’t sure Simon can hear him or understand him, but the hands around his hips tighten bruisingly hard – he will definitely have those marks he wanted now, and that makes him smile wide – and Ghost’s pace picks up even more if that’s possible.
Soap honestly loses track of time after that.
He knows only sensation, and Simon’s big, thick, cock, and Simon’s large hands touching him, marking him, taking him –
Soap would happily die being owned like this.
Suddenly, Simon’s hands tighten around his hips, and he grinds his cock in, and – Soap can feel it!
Feel Ghost twitching inside him as he comes, pulse after pulse and feel the frankly scalding-hot come hitting his insides – Soap’s cock gives a weak twitch, unable to come any more but still trying – as Simon lets out an indecent groan, coming deep inside Soap.
He holds Soap down tightly, not letting his cock out of Soap’s hole, as his cock still twitches and Simon pumps the last of his load deep into Soap.
He breathes, cock still stuffed deep, and Soap doesn’t try to move.
Simon will move when he is done with Soap, not before.
When he does pull out, he stays behind Soap, and Soap feels Ghost’s thumbs hook into his hole, and spread him – almost effortlessly.
Soap takes a deep breath, body still pliant, and feels the exact moment he starts to leak.
Simon makes an interesting little noise behind him, and suddenly Soap feels –
Soap is moaning before he can register that that’s Simon’s tongue, licking his hole –
Simon is sucking on his rim, licking up his spent and the lube –
Soap has the hysterical thought that thank God he bought coconut flavored –
And fucking fuck fuck fuck it’s so good, it’s so fucking good Soap is going besides himself. Simon is going to kill him and he will be dead and –
“Your hole is all puffy and red and it’s literally coming out of you, Johnny.” Simon slurs into his arsehole and Johnny knows he has already died and there is nothing better. Nothing will ever be better than this.
Then Simon puts his whole mouth across his hole, and sucks –
Soap hears himself wail –
His cock jerks –
Soap can feel himself tighten everywhere – and his cock – his cock –
He sees white –
Soap don’t know what’s happening except he is thrashing weakly and there are hands holding his arse cheeks down and open and --
His vision is strobing –
Soap feels all the restrains tighten –
Oh. No, he is fight –
He is screaming himself hoarse –
Simon is slurring something into his hole –
Black –
“Take –”
Black –
“So good Johnny –”
Soap can’t –
Black.
---
Awareness comes back… slowly.
Soap doesn’t…
Soft.
He is somewhere soft.
He smells something which immediately tells his hind brain he is safe.
He drifts.
---
The next time he comes to… he smells it again, something he knows means safety.
He is smiling before he can open his eyes.
Soap nuzzles into that smell, pushes his face into it.
Something tickles his cheek.
Hair.
Hair?
He cracks an eye open, slowly, and sees… white.
No.
That’s… blond.
Blond hair.
His face is in someone’s neck.
But the smell…
Ghost.
Simon.
He feels a hand stroke down his spine, and all thoughts stop as he just experiences that sensation of being pet.
It feels incredibly good, and Soap doesn’t want to do anything but feel it.
“Awake?” the muscle he is lying against rumbles.
Ghost.
Simon.
“Mm” Soap says, or thinks he says. He isn’t sure.
He feels so good.
It must be a dream.
He hopes he doesn’t wake up.
He feels more than hears a soft laugh, but the hand petting him, just moves up to his hair, and Soap melts into it.
Please don’t let him wake up.
Awareness trickles in and – Ghost. Simon. Is petting him.
He nuzzles into shoulder and neck under his head, and rubs himself against the big body he is lying against.
The hand that was petting him finally strokes its way to Soap’s face, and tilts Soap’s face up, so he makes himself open his eyes even though he doesn’t want to.
What greets him is the single most beautiful dream he has ever had the pleasure of having. Namely a disheveled and satiated Simon Riley.
“You’re beautiful.” Says Soap’s mouth before he can think any other thoughts.
Simon’s eyes crinkle in laughter and Soap was wrong, there is something more beautiful after all.
“You are so fucked out.” He tells Soap, and aye, he isn’t wrong but…
“Still true.” He mumbles.
Simon smiles again, but his eyes are watching Soap carefully.
“Alright?” he asks, and Soap at first isn’t sure how to answer that.
Simon must see his hesitation because he tenses, minutely, and Soap wouldn’t have been able to tell if he wasn’t lying practically on top of him.
“I am good. I am so good, I don’t think I have ever been better.” Soap says, making sure his eyes are glued to Simon so he understands –
The tension leaves Simon just that fast, and he pets Soap’s face, “Good.”
Soap is still floating, so he doesn’t overthink it, he tilts his head up, wanting a kiss more than anything.
Simon’s eyes soften, and he leans down, kissing Soap gently.
It’s their first kiss, and Soap moans softly into it, begging with his whole body for Simon not to stop.
Simon clearly hears him, because he leans forward more, and Soap lies back, as Simon leans over him, and kisses Soap into the bed. He is still gentle, and his mouth explores Soap’s like he is learning it.
He is.
Soap suddenly tastes a faint hint of coconut and it makes his whole body flush.
Simon had eaten his hole out after he had fucked him with that mouth.
“Fuck, Johnny. What you do to me…” Simon says into his mouth, but doesn’t let Soap answer him, just kisses him and kisses him and kisses him like he will never stop.
And if Soap dies here, right now, from lack of oxygen, in his bed, being swallowed by one Simon Riley, well, this too is a form of heaven.
-end