Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hour for the Devil ❯ Chapter 1
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: trowacko 
It was a game, an addiction, with a prize and promise that might as well have been a placebo. This time, Heero thinks, he might win.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.24.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
It was a game, an addiction, with a prize and promise that might as well have been a placebo. This time, Heero thinks, he might win.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.24.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
Title- Hour for the Devil
Author - trowacko
Rating - NC17
Warnings - 6x1. sorta XD
Disclaimers - I do not own Gundam Wing in any way, nor do I make a claim to. No profit, no harm done.
Author's note - originally started for the Charcoal challenge at the GW500 community at LiveJournal. Except it got a little long and I overshot the deadline. Heh.
The taste of the floor had always been bitter. Like the mating of coal with a bit of oil. Heero spat against the floor, rewarded a moment later with the thick sound of the wad smacking against the mud-streaked ground. The cold from the clammy film of sweat over his body made him shiver incessantly. Just a little bit longer and he was certain the man standing over him would surpass his weariness. Just a little bit longer and he'd free the last of the bonds keeping him in a kneeling position on the cold ground. Victory was close; so close.
Please. Just once.
"About an hour till midnight and he's still not free yet. Strength appears to be waning, doctor. Vitals are all within normal parameters." The warm tone paused as Zechs leaned over his prey, verifying Heero's condition before he continued his mock dialogue. "Breathing elevated -- but," Zechs' voice changed from false comfort back to himself, "given his position and frustration, that's to be expected."
Ah, position. Hands tied together at the wrist, his fingers cupping his length with the taut rope between his knees. The end of the next section went around his ankles and snaked around his calves, around his thighs, under and around his ass, spreading his cheeks open. The ache had started in the first hour, and while it wasn't quite a constant burning yet, it was most definitely a point of discomfort. From around his back, the two lines snaked loosely around his neck and back down to Heero's wrists. Multiple layers of knots secured it in place and it was these knots that the man tried to finish loosing before midnight arrived to mark him a loser yet again. In the last month, he'd only managed to come close once. The resulting fantasy of finally claiming Zechs had been bitterly sweet, even in his mind. He knew his lust and longing would have pounded into flesh that barely seemed affected.
Please.
"Give up, Heero," Zechs whispered, kneeling down enough for his breath to puff into his prisoner's hair, "give up and I'll take you now. Claim you. Taint you the way you want to be tainted. You have only to give the word."
Just this once.
Another layer of knots fell free, allowing Heero to pull his head back a few degrees, easing the deep ache on his shoulders. One more set to go.
"Tell me, Heero. You don't have to fight anymore."
"Fuck you," Heero bit out. His anger and frustration boiled his blood, warming his skin.
"I'd rather fuck you," Zechs whispered. Naked, he towered above the bound man, his loose hair his only shield from prying eyes beyond the shed.
The ropes chaffed his wrists painfully, warning him that they'd chewed through the first layer of his skin. Before he was free, he would bleed no matter what. Lose, lose situation, Heero Yuy. What'll it be? Hot pain shot through his left wrist, forcing a cry of pain from Heero. His precarious balance between his knees and forehead gave way and Heero fell to his side. Above him, he saw Zechs kneel, his erection rigid between them, an entreaty and dark promise.
"Watch," Zechs ordered. He started pumping his cock, his pulls slow and deliberate.
Angry, Heero reciprocated by working his fingers faster, carefully loosing the last two knots holding him secure. Time wasn't up yet.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Time's up, boy. Make your choice."
"Liar!" Heero cried, his voice betraying his panic and pain.
Please. Please.
One more knot to go. One more hour to free it.
Zechs' movements became erratic, his body taut as he jerked off above his captive. Their voices mingled with the effort behind hot puffs of breath, one from mere exertion, the other through unforgiving lust. Just as the last knot started to slip, Zechs stood up, planting his legs firmly and staring up at the rotted ceiling rather than Heero. A low keening wail slipped between his lips, one hand firmly worked his flesh, the other fondled the tender flesh beneath.
Heero watched in horrific fascination. His tormentor, his lover stood splayed before him. The positions he wanted them to be in were almost within his grasp if he could only remove that last blasted knot.
Just this one time, please. Then I'll quit, I promise.
Thick liquid splatted against Heero's cheek, its essence hot for a bare second. He closed his eyes and tucked his body into a tighter ball as he felt spurts fall against his lips, his throat, and in his hair. The pressure with which he kept his eyes squeezed shut held the tears in.
"Fucking liar," he barked.
Something wet - hot and cool at the same time as only liquid can be against naked skin - rubbed tenderly across his cheek and over his parted lips. He was half-tempted to bite the flaccid flesh, but the repercussions for doing so in his bound state didn't justify the risk. Not today.
"For someone as intelligent as you are, Mr. Yuy, you really should pay more attention to daylight savings. Even the devil gets his hour."
The last knot popped free and the bonds holding him in place loosened rapidly. Heero could have gotten up to follow his tormentor for tricking him into playing the game this of all days. As he flipped himself over to rub as much of the essence from his cheek into the dirt as he'd done a hundred times before, he consoled himself with the cold fact that had it been any other day, he would have had time to spare. He sat up in a tangle of black rope and painfully flushed skin. In the fading light, the man looked more like a sculpture or a rough drawing with his body smudged in charcoal shades, white lines where the blood hadn't returned yet, or bloody smears where the rope had chaffed him the worst.
Please. Next time.
Please.
*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean it's insane*
Please. Just once.
"About an hour till midnight and he's still not free yet. Strength appears to be waning, doctor. Vitals are all within normal parameters." The warm tone paused as Zechs leaned over his prey, verifying Heero's condition before he continued his mock dialogue. "Breathing elevated -- but," Zechs' voice changed from false comfort back to himself, "given his position and frustration, that's to be expected."
Ah, position. Hands tied together at the wrist, his fingers cupping his length with the taut rope between his knees. The end of the next section went around his ankles and snaked around his calves, around his thighs, under and around his ass, spreading his cheeks open. The ache had started in the first hour, and while it wasn't quite a constant burning yet, it was most definitely a point of discomfort. From around his back, the two lines snaked loosely around his neck and back down to Heero's wrists. Multiple layers of knots secured it in place and it was these knots that the man tried to finish loosing before midnight arrived to mark him a loser yet again. In the last month, he'd only managed to come close once. The resulting fantasy of finally claiming Zechs had been bitterly sweet, even in his mind. He knew his lust and longing would have pounded into flesh that barely seemed affected.
Please.
"Give up, Heero," Zechs whispered, kneeling down enough for his breath to puff into his prisoner's hair, "give up and I'll take you now. Claim you. Taint you the way you want to be tainted. You have only to give the word."
Just this once.
Another layer of knots fell free, allowing Heero to pull his head back a few degrees, easing the deep ache on his shoulders. One more set to go.
"Tell me, Heero. You don't have to fight anymore."
"Fuck you," Heero bit out. His anger and frustration boiled his blood, warming his skin.
"I'd rather fuck you," Zechs whispered. Naked, he towered above the bound man, his loose hair his only shield from prying eyes beyond the shed.
The ropes chaffed his wrists painfully, warning him that they'd chewed through the first layer of his skin. Before he was free, he would bleed no matter what. Lose, lose situation, Heero Yuy. What'll it be? Hot pain shot through his left wrist, forcing a cry of pain from Heero. His precarious balance between his knees and forehead gave way and Heero fell to his side. Above him, he saw Zechs kneel, his erection rigid between them, an entreaty and dark promise.
"Watch," Zechs ordered. He started pumping his cock, his pulls slow and deliberate.
Angry, Heero reciprocated by working his fingers faster, carefully loosing the last two knots holding him secure. Time wasn't up yet.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Time's up, boy. Make your choice."
"Liar!" Heero cried, his voice betraying his panic and pain.
Please. Please.
One more knot to go. One more hour to free it.
Zechs' movements became erratic, his body taut as he jerked off above his captive. Their voices mingled with the effort behind hot puffs of breath, one from mere exertion, the other through unforgiving lust. Just as the last knot started to slip, Zechs stood up, planting his legs firmly and staring up at the rotted ceiling rather than Heero. A low keening wail slipped between his lips, one hand firmly worked his flesh, the other fondled the tender flesh beneath.
Heero watched in horrific fascination. His tormentor, his lover stood splayed before him. The positions he wanted them to be in were almost within his grasp if he could only remove that last blasted knot.
Just this one time, please. Then I'll quit, I promise.
Thick liquid splatted against Heero's cheek, its essence hot for a bare second. He closed his eyes and tucked his body into a tighter ball as he felt spurts fall against his lips, his throat, and in his hair. The pressure with which he kept his eyes squeezed shut held the tears in.
"Fucking liar," he barked.
Something wet - hot and cool at the same time as only liquid can be against naked skin - rubbed tenderly across his cheek and over his parted lips. He was half-tempted to bite the flaccid flesh, but the repercussions for doing so in his bound state didn't justify the risk. Not today.
"For someone as intelligent as you are, Mr. Yuy, you really should pay more attention to daylight savings. Even the devil gets his hour."
The last knot popped free and the bonds holding him in place loosened rapidly. Heero could have gotten up to follow his tormentor for tricking him into playing the game this of all days. As he flipped himself over to rub as much of the essence from his cheek into the dirt as he'd done a hundred times before, he consoled himself with the cold fact that had it been any other day, he would have had time to spare. He sat up in a tangle of black rope and painfully flushed skin. In the fading light, the man looked more like a sculpture or a rough drawing with his body smudged in charcoal shades, white lines where the blood hadn't returned yet, or bloody smears where the rope had chaffed him the worst.
Please. Next time.
Please.
*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean it's insane*