Deciding Factor
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Category:
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
12,134
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Deciding Factor
Resident Evil is owned by
Capcom Co. Ltd.
All these characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm
not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.
Deciding
Factor
April 2006
@>;-'-
a straightforward mission; invade, rescue the prisoners, and demolish
or take control of the target facility. Jack Krauser had faced more
challenging jobs in the early years of his training. And if the truth
was to be told, he was frankly bored with the assignments.
Perhaps Wesker was right and it was time for a change... time for him
to consider a transfer to covert activities. It certainly sounded a
whole lot more exciting then his current run of the mill type of
missions.
The thing was-- Jack wasn't sure how much he could trust the other man.
The officer had made some rather disturbing insinuations about the
current command and decision structure within the Agency... He'd have
to give more thought to the man's offer once he was finished with this
mission.
Not that Jack was expecting it to be difficult. It wasn't as if he and
his team would have any trouble identifying the prisoners they were
being sent to liberate either. While they did not interact extensively
with the junior classes, they mixed often enough during mass and
downtime for any of Jack's team to recognise at least two of the ten
rookies who had disappeared in the vicinity of the rogue Umbrella base.
The Captain had given Jack a significant look regarding one of the
rookies; one Leon S. Kennedy.
Jack huffed to himself in a fit of irritation. It wasn't like Kennedy
was his one true love, and Jack knew the other man would have outright
laughed in the face of anyone who would suggest that. They had
discovered a 'connection' early on, that's all.
Their first casual meeting on one of those rare joint classes pitted
them as antagonistic opposites. Jack would admit that he had been
overly cocky when he was matched against the junior cadet during their
class on bladed weapons. Maybe it *was* an accident, but the injury
which Leon delivered to him had been devastating. The cut required a
score of stitches. And the scar that was created started from the chin
just missed his nose and ran over the left eye. Jack was lucky he
didn't lose the eye.
The kid had been genuinely sorry about the injury, but Jack was pissed.
In all honesty though, contrary to his earlier belief, he got more
dates from women 'cause they were intrigued by his scar and wanted to
hear his story. Not that he ever told the true story behind the scar or
admitted to Leon he'd suddenly become a chick magnet because of it. He
had a reputation as a hard nosed fighter to keep up. Unfortunately, the
little wildcat refused to be pushed around.
For the next four months, their instructors had had to constantly watch
them to make sure they didn't kill each other. It finally came to a
head when the instructors were frustrated enough to lock them in a room
to work out their differences.
Oh, they had fought; bare knuckled and without weapons; though always
mindful never to use lethal force. And Jack had somehow managed to grab
Leon's wrists and wrenched them overhead while he pinned him against
the wall with his body before the smaller man could kick himself free.
In his defence, Jack would later swear that he had only been trying to
shut Leon's smart mouth in the most expedient fashion available. The
first touch of lips sparked a volatile blaze between them which refused
to be quenched.
Kennedy lips had been sweet-- salty-- *delicious*. To this day, Jack
didn't have the vocabulary to describe how good the man tasted as he
devoured his mouth and tried to push his tongue down Leon's throat. The
younger man's rumbling purr of want as Jack kissed him had set him
tingling all the way down to his cock and grinding hips and groins were
soon insufficient for their mutual desire.
Jack never asked, but he had a suspicion that Leon was a virgin then.
He had felt the kid to be too naïve and inexperienced to be
anything else. Leon hadn't appeared to understand what the older man
was preparing him for with spit slicked fingers until Jack had him
braced against some crates with the pucker of his ass resting upon an
eager cock head. Jack still had the distinct bite mark on his shoulder
to commemorate the first time he impaled Leon upon his cock.
Once had not been enough though. The furnace which burned in Jack
demanded that he exert his dominance on Leon again and again.
Fortunately, the younger man had been more than agreeable at the time.
He regretted it later though as he required Jack to offer a supportive
shoulder when they finally left the room. The older man had been
impossibly smug about the whole situation.
This was even after they found themselves immediately confronted by two
red faced instructors who, as it turned out, had been monitoring the
room to make sure they didn't kill each other. Jack thought Kennedy was
going to die from embarrassment when he realised they had an audience.
It was *very* fortunate the two men chose to overlook their activities;
seeing how they would have implicated themselves as well in 'setting
them up.' Frankly, it amused the hell out of the instructors. So apart
from a growled warning that they were to be better behaved around each
other in the future and an admonition to be discrete, they were allowed
to return to classes without anything further said; though the two
instructors would occasionally snicker whenever they saw them together.
While their classmates noticed the two weren't fighting anymore, they
wouldn't have described them as being 'friends' either. However, they
did note that the two men would often seek each other out on random
weekends to disappear; sometimes for an hour or two, sometimes the
whole weekend. At his curious friends' queries, Jack shrugged those
occasions off as their having found some common ground during their
enforced imprisonment together, and so taking the time to share an
interest.
The best part about the whole affair for Jack was his clear status as
the 'top'. Initially, Leon hadn't been too happy when he realised Jack
had no intention of relinquishing the 'dominant' role. However, Jack
was a skilful lover and once he introduced Leon to his eventual
favourite position of straddling Jack's body to seat himself on the
bigger man's stiff cock, Leon hadn't any further issues with being the
'bottom' in their relationship.
They strictly never made any promises to each other though. It was just
convenient to them whenever they happened to be posted to the same
training centre for a period. Jack's Captain, however, was one of those
who thought there was more behind the story. Outside of missions, the
woman seemed to possess a secret delight in imagining them as a couple.
Nevertheless, she didn't rag on Jack as long as he remained
professional about his training and duties. And Jack gave his squad
leader a glare and nod now to indicate he understood the unsaid message
and that he could be counted on.
While Jack would admit to feeling a twinge of worry for Leon, he wasn't
about to let that interfere with how he performed on the mission.
Especially when he knew the undertaking was *not* going to be a stroll
in the park.
As much as the squad enjoyed joking among themselves about the younger
and less experienced cadets needing to have their fat pulled out of the
fire by their 'big' brothers and sisters, Jack's team were not
dismissing the danger lightly. The Agency's training regime was
rigorous, and anyone who made it as far as that team of agents, was a
formidable challenge individually. That an entire team of ten were
captured or possibly killed was warning enough to Jack's unit that
something out of the ordinary must have taken them down.
Well, they were going to find out soon enough... Knowing how much
firepower the team would have been assigned when they had set out to
bring down the rogue Umbrella operations, Jack's team were given leave
to pack more powerful armaments.
On too many occasions to count, Leon
S. Kennedy cursed the day he had ever heard of Raccoon City. His life
had certainly taken a turn into the nightmare realm from his first day
of work as a rookie in the Raccoon City Police Department.
Thinking that he was exaggerating
when he described the BOWs he once faced, his team mates hadn't taken
him seriously when he warned them of the kind of monsters Umbrella
accidentally unleashed in Raccoon City. They were, however, quick to
change their opinions when faced with their first Licker.
The situation had gone downhill from
there, but the cadets had banded together and pushed through against
the nightmare creatures that Umbrella kept throwing at them. That is,
until Umbrella let their Tyrants out to play.
Leon had only ever faced off a Tyrant
one at a time. In his experience, these Umbrella creations were
solitary creatures. To be suddenly confronted a group of them working
as a single unit was enough to warn him that Umbrella made significant
improvements in their creations.
They were picked off one by one,
until it was finally down to Leon and three others trapped in a
windowless office by five Tyrants. For each one that fell to their
barrage of bullets and dissolved into a slime stain on the ground,
another would appear to take its place.
One by one, Leon and his team mates
ran out of bullets. Leon could note one of the more religious of his
team mates retreating into prayer, probably pleading with God to compel
all the Tyrants to fall before they ran out of ammunition. That was,
unfortunately not to be so.
Down to their combat knives, the last
three cadets had spread out to give themselves room to fight and to
sell their lives dearly. The end was a foregone conclusion. However,
Leon found himself in a bewildering predicament. He was soon the last
one left alive with four Tyrants backing him into a corner.
With a last thought of Sherry and a
final prayer that the Agency would look after her beyond his death,
Leon had launched himself straight at the foremost Tyrant slashing
purposefully and hoping to strike a mortal blow. To his dismay, his
knife barely laid a scratch on the Tyrant's grey skin despite Leon
putting his full weight and strength behind the slice. Instead his
target had caught Leon's hand, forcing him to drop the knife as it
swung him out of the corner and in the midst of the group of Tyrants.
Leon had closed his eyes then,
expecting a fist to crush his head at any moment. He remembered too
well taking a glancing blow from a Tyrant once at Raccoon City. But
that was when he had the space to move and was able to dodge around the
lumbering monster.
He had seen some of his team mates
killed earlier by a blow to the head which crushed their skulls and
splattered brain, bone and blood over walls and floor. He was sure it
was his turn now. Nothing prepared him to instead feel a large ham like
hand tentatively stroke over one of his cheeks.
He had jerked away in surprise, only
to bump against the Tyrant behind him. Leon opened his eyes then to
look at the four Tyrants who surrounded him. None appeared interested
in seeking his death. Instead, he saw a flicker in their stone like
faces which seemed to resemble curiosity.
When the Tyrant who had been holding
his arm brought it towards its face to smell and rubbed the back of his
hand against its cheek, Leon freaked out. He didn't know what the hell
was going on, but he wanted out now! He kicked the Tyrant in the balls
to make it let him go. But that only caused it to shove him into the
embrace of the Tyrant behind him.
The two Tyrants on either side of him
were quick to drop to one knee to grab Leon's thrashing legs and
prevent him from kicking out again. Despite his wild struggles, Leon
was well and effectively immobilised.
He looked at the Tyrant he kicked
warily as it straightened from its crouch. Leon knew the kick had hurt
it, however, unlike a human the creature was far from incapacitated by
the blow. It instead looked at him angrily. Again, Leon expected to
die. But the damn things weren't acting anywhere within his realm of
understanding.
The Tyrant's arm stabbed out towards
Leon, but instead of hitting him, Leon felt its hand catch the fabric
of his pants. Before he knew it, the creature tore a large strip of
material off him. As if it were a signal for their further
participation, the other three Tyrants also began pulling and tearing
at Leon's clothes; ignoring his cries of distress and mounting
hysteria.
It was suddenly clear to Leon what
the Umbrella creations wanted, and he couldn't believe it was happening
to him. He couldn't understand why he alone had been singled out among
all his other team mates. There were even a few women in his squad. If
Umbrella bred the BOWs to procreate, why hadn't they picked a woman
instead of him?
All too soon, the Tyrants had Leon
shivering in the cool air of the Umbrella facility; naked apart from
his gloves and his laced boots which were apparently too complicated
for the creatures to remove. Leon could feel the two Tyrant's holding
his legs brush their nose against his thighs as if to scent him. He
momentarily supposed that it was preferable for them to sniff him there
rather than anywhere nearer his crotch.
The Tyrant standing in front of him
gently, but firmly caught his chin in its hand to force him to look
into its eyes. Despite his fear, Leon glared at it with as much
defiance as he could master. Promising in his look that he would
struggle and fight them with all his might if they were indeed
intending to rape him. He only later realised that as out numbered and
overpowered as he was, it was the wrong thing to do.
The Tyrant released him and swung
away from him then. And for a moment, Leon thought he won a small
victory. That little spark of triumph stayed with him only until the
Tyrant pulled out a sturdy looking crate and sat on it before gesturing
towards its compatriots.
Before Leon understood what was
happening, they threw him at the seated Tyrant who caught and quickly
laid him with his belly over its lap. A large hand had furthermore
gathered his wrists behind him and held them firmly crossed against the
small of his back; a grip which effectively kept Leon from struggling
or even rolling off the BOW's lap.
A thought passed through Leon's mind
at the positioning, but he couldn't really accept or believe what he
had been set up to receive until he heard and felt a light smack
against his right ass cheek. He was more stunned than hurt by the blow.
Rough fingers danced over the abused
cheek, barely putting any pressure against his skin as it touched him.
Then the fingers disappeared and the palm came down again, but this
time on his left ass cheek with quite a bit more force than the first
smack. Once more, the fingers lingered and stroked his ass where he was
struck before withdrawing to deliver a harder blow to his opposite
cheek.
It suddenly registered to Leon what
the Tyrant was trying to do. It was learning to what extent and
strength it could safely spank him. Spank him?!
The outrage and humiliation of what
the Tyrant was doing to him was too much for Leon to take. He furiously
wiggled and squirmed even harder on the Tyrant's lap; very aware of the
solid shaft of flesh was starting to come to life and poke him in the
stomach.
Leon was further horrified as he
recognised an unaccountable ache building in his loins with the
spanking and caresses over his burning skin. But his attention wasn't
long on his growing erection as the Tyrant's smacks and slaps started
raining down on his alternating ass cheeks harder and faster; the loud
whack of a palm on defenceless flesh sounding obscenely loud in the
silence of the office.
He didn't cry; Leon gritted his teeth
and took the punishment like a man. After what felt like hours, his
mind went numb with the pain and it had taken a while for Leon to
realise he had stopped struggling-- and with that the spanking stopped
as well.
His skin was on fire. Leon could
imagine the flesh on his buttocks to be a bright, cherry red from the
blows which had rained upon it. He knew the bruises were going to be
horrendous to behold when/if he was allowed to recover.
The Tyrant released his hands then,
but Leon could not even begin to think of moving or pushing away from
where he lay limp over the creature's knees. His whole body was
shivering, as much from pain as it was from shock for the abuse meted
out to him.
Leon thought his buttocks would have
surely gone numb from the pain. But an unfathomable jolt of arousal
shot through his body when cool fingers lightly skimmed over his
tortured flesh. If he was confused and dismayed by his body's reaction,
the Tyrant appeared very pleased as it continued to lightly caress his
painful skin. Leon's face burned in shame as he felt his erection very
distinctly wet the lap he was draped over with its pre-come.
From lightly petting his sore rump,
the hand lifted away and Leon at first feared that the Tyrant meant to
continue spanking him. However, the hand soon returned to slide wet
fingers along the crack of his ass until it reached the pucker of his
asshole.
The thought of fighting the intrusion
briefly crossed Leon's mind, but he swiftly discarded it. His earlier
defiance had prompted a devastating spanking. He couldn't imagine what
further rebellion would bring upon him, and he also realised he was
going nowhere with his resistance. How ever much he wished it
otherwise, Leon knew he was going to be raped and currently his best
chance of survival was to cooperate.
Considering how carefully the Tyrant
tested his limits to pain and punishment before speedily spanking him
in earnest, Leon felt some assurance it wasn't going to brutally tear
him to pieces with the rape. It was already telling that the creature
was attempting to lubricate and stretch him in preparation of the
ordeal to come.
Still, it had been awkward for Leon
to keep his muscles relaxed enough to allow the slick fingers to enter
him. He knew that he was still in shock and the agony emanating from
his buttocks made it hard for him not to tense up at the unwanted
intrusion. However, when the probing fingers stroked his prostate?
Gods! Leon felt his cock harden again. He never felt more humiliated in
all his life as he squirmed on the Tyrant's lap while it finger fucked
him and petted his rump intimately.
He had almost forgotten about the
other Tyrants when two sets of hands lifted him off the lap of his
spanker by his arms and yet another two pairs of hands reached to
support his legs so that his body was suspended in midair; all without
dislodging the two huge fingers which continued to stroke in and out of
his ass.
Leon took a quick glance around him
then and shut his eyes immediately, wishing he hadn't been so foolish.
There were a lot more Tyrants in the room with him now; each one of
them having stripped off their clothes to stand watching him while they
stroked their cock. He refused to think of counting the crowd.
Though bred on the large side, Leon
was thankful that the Tyrants' cocks didn't look to him to be
proportionally as large as their bodies. At the least, it pointed to
someone in Umbrella having the sense not to make their creations overly
endowed. It looked as if the Tyrants were as large as, or maybe just
slightly thicker than his on again/off again fuck buddy Jack Krauser.
If he detached his mind, Leon thought
he could pretend it was that one horrible weekend when Jack, a man who
*did* *not* need assistance getting it up, had tried half a tablet of
Viagra. The experiment resulted in an erection which just would not go
away! Leon hadn't been able to sit comfortably for the following week
and Jack was in the doghouse with him for almost a month.
The removal of fingers and the touch
of a weeping cock head against the pucker of his ass was enough to drag
Leon's attention back to the Tyrant standing between his wide spread
legs. Its hand reached to gently grip his chin to make sure he did not
look away as it started to push forward.
Leon tried to stay relaxed as the
steel hard shaft was forced firmly past his tight ring of muscles. A
few tears of pain escaped his eyes as the Tyrant pulled steadily on his
hips to sink itself into Leon's ass. Finally, one last hard shove had
the Tyrant resting its balls against Leon's sore buttocks.
Unable to jerk his face out of the
Tyrant's grip, Leon had closed his eyes. His whole body had gone rigid
with the intimate pain that coursed through him from his impalement.
Leon had thought Jack was as big, but he was wrong. The Tyrant was much
thicker and probably quite a bit longer as well.
As his tears flowed freely down his
face, Leon didn't care anymore about dignity or pride. His buttocks
were also burning from the spanking he had received earlier, and he
felt as if he was being split in two by the huge cock which stretched
him to his limits and filled him to capacity. Once the fucking
started... Leon couldn't even begin to conceive of the agony he would
be in when the Tyrant started to slam its hips against his sore bottom.
He couldn't imagine entertaining the entire room of Tyrants who were
now watching him and patiently awaiting their turn.
A gentle hand brushed away the tears
which gathered on Leon's cheeks, making him open his eyes to look at
the Tyrant who was currently balls deep in him. He almost didn't notice
the pulped mess of green herbs it was holding near his mouth until a
familiar raw antiseptic scent touched his nose.
Leon stared at the primitively
produced healing potion. In intensity of colour, he could tell it was a
three herb mix; something which he knew would greatly lessen the ache
of his cruelly spanked flesh.
Leon allowed the Tyrant to feed him
the pulped mess. He wasn't about to refuse a gift which would ease his
discomfort over the next few hours. As the miracle cure all did its
magic, he could feel himself relax a little more with the lessening
pain. And the throbbing cock in him didn't feel as dauntingly huge
anymore.
As if sensing Leon was finally as
relaxed as they would ever get him, the Tyrant started to cautiously
fuck him in a smooth steady rhythm. Leon wrenched his face out of the
Tyrant's slackening grip to throw his head back with a deep moan when
it stroked his prostate gland with a forceful shove. Understanding the
very positive reaction, the Tyrant thrust its cock into Leon again,
duplicating the angle of its attack and making bright flashes burn
behind Leon's eyelids.
'Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.' The tears
building in Leon's eyes were not of pain anymore but of humiliation and
anguish. He couldn't believe that his body was responding to the
Tyrant's fucking.
Intellectually, Leon knew he should
have expected it. He wasn't in control of anything right now, much less
his own body; as the Tyrants had proven to him with the spanking and
then again with the offer of the herbs. But he hadn't expected his body
to regain its erection so quickly after pain had thankfully killed his
arousal.
It was Jack. Leon kept telling
himself in his mind that it was Jack who was drilling him so forcefully
and hammering an eager steel hard cock into him again and again. But it
wasn't easy.
For one, Jack knew all his erogenous
spots, just as he did the other man. Part of their usual foreplay was
to make the other man come at least once by warm wet licks and touches
alone before they broke out the condoms and lube.
The Tyrants didn't do squat. The one
fucking him didn't touch him apart from the grip about his hips to hold
him in position. But what the Tyrant didn't know in foreplay, it more
than made up for in power, drive and positioning it demonstrated by
unerringly rubbing his prostate gland with every forceful thrust.
Unable to pretend that he was with
his lover, Leon had tried the route of shutting down his response.
However, despite all of Leon's efforts and desperate thoughts of turn
offs and inappropriately dressed people, the Tyrants had his body
singing in arousal. And it was saying a lot that the Tyrants managed to
force him to maintain an erection while he was visualising his wrinkly,
55 year old, male ethics instructor in a tutu.
Despite Leon's resistance, it finally
wrung a screaming orgasm out of him and his forceful, though
involuntary, clench of muscles over the invading cock set off the
Tyrant as well. With a last forceful, bone jarring slap against his
buttocks, the Tyrant climaxed into him.
Leon slumped against the arms
supporting him in misery and defeat as his cock emptied the last of his
release over his stomach, while the pulsating cock up his ass coated
his bowels with its discharge. The Tyrants didn't waste time. As soon
as the one in him finished pumping its load of semen into his ass, it
pulled out to let a new Tyrant quickly take its place to impale him
upon another rigid cock.
Leon was shaking as his new rapist
ploughed into him with as much power and accuracy as the first. Despite
its recent satiation, Leon could feel his erection returning with the
renewed assault on his prostate. This was just Tyrant number 2... There
was still the rest of the room to go and Leon didn't doubt that they'd
have seconds.
For the next few hours, Leon was lost
in the monotonous rock of a Tyrant relentlessly fucking a body already
too exhausted to respond. They used him unhurriedly, thrusting rigid
cock after rigid cock into him at an almost leisurely pace. One after
another, after another, the Tyrants took their turn between Leon's legs
giving him no respite from the assault.
However, Leon had a sense the Tyrants
wouldn't fuck him to death. And they did bear out Leon's suspicions
that they wanted him to live by feeding him doses of raw, pulped green
herbs whenever they believed he was doing poorly, or was in need of an
energy boost.
The one small mercy Leon thought he
had was that the Tyrants were not interested in having him give them
blow jobs as well. It was the only clue he had which suggested the rape
was not for the sake of entertainment. However, Leon still didn't
understand why he alone had been singled out of his squad for this
special treatment.
One thing Leon was sure of was that
Umbrella were witness to the strange behaviour of their creations. He
noticed several pin-points of red lights about the room he was in.
There was little doubt in Leon's mind his gang rape was observed and
possibly being taped for later study as well. The fact that Umbrella
took no action to interrupt his rape only solidified Leon's hatred for
them.
And enough was enough! What
entertainment were the voyeurs getting from his almost mechanical
fucking by the Tyrants. Why couldn't they call a halt to it already?
Fuck dignity and pride, he wanted his ordeal to be over and he was
willing to beg.
"Please… you're killing me." Leon
stared dully at the approaching Tyrant which lined its cock against his
aching hole. "Stop-- I can't-- take anymore…" He moaned softly as the
Tyrant impaled him on a new iron hard cock and started fucking him
steadily.
"Someone… please... stop this..." If
anyone heard his pleas, they ignored them.
Jack's team entered the Umbrella compound stealthily. They watched out
for the cameras as they made their way into the facility, careful not
to trip any of the alarms. However, while Jack would admit that they
were good, the mission was proceeding too well. They were to learn why
later when the smell of blood finally reached them.
The scent of death surrounded them, attesting to the state of the
facility's occupants. It was not a pretty sight.
"What the fuck?"
The walls and floor were painted with blood and strewn with bodies and
gore. Whatever it was that killed the guards ripped them apart and/or
crushed their skulls.
The hearts of the team sank with every step they cautiously took deeper
into the facility. Any confidence the team had carried with them to
bring their rookies out alive dwindled with each horribly mangled body
they found.
"Wakey, wakey, Mr. Government Agent."
A hard slap across his face shook Leon from the darkness he had been
comfortably residing in. A second slap hit him on his opposite cheek
before he woke sufficiently to draw away from the swinging hand.
"At last, our sleeping beauty
awakens."
Leon growled as he focussed on the
man in the lab coat standing before him. "If you're Prince Charming, I
want to talk to the casting director." That earned him a slug to the
stomach.
He didn't turn back towards his
captor immediately, taking a moment to assess his current state and get
his bearings. From the cool kiss of air against his skin, Leon knew he
was still nude; completely nude now that someone had removed his gloves
and boots.
They had chained him against the wall
by his wrists, with his arms stretched overhead and his feet barely
touching the floor. Leon could feel manacles about his ankles as well
which told him his legs were probably restrained by a length of chain
that would prevent him from kicking at his captors. He almost sighed
inwardly at his utter helplessness. Leon tried to reason with himself
that it was better than being dead, but after his recent ordeal, it was
a debatable point.
Given the fact he wasn't in as poor a
physical shape as one might imagine him to be in after the ordeal with
the Tyrants, Leon guessed that his captors displayed some small
generosity in attending to him. While the intravenous application of
the distilled and purified cure all was much more effective, one had to
weather the 'healing pain' which came with it since a body was forced
to recover at an unnaturally fast pace. Leon was identifying that tell
tale ache in his body now.
"Still with us, Mr. Government Agent?"
"Yeah." He turned to face the
annoying man. "What is it to you?"
"You handed us quite a shock, you
know?" The Umbrella scientist told him honestly as his gloved hand
reached to touch one of the crusted trails of drying come staining
Leon's inner thighs. Leon growled, but the chains about his ankles
prevented him from closing his legs.
"We've never seen that reaction from
our BOWs with a human *male* before." Leon glared daggers at the man as
he continued to touch his inner thighs intimately. "On the other hand,
you accomplished something our female experiments could not.
"You lived through your experience.
And you even serviced a good number of BOWs at that."
Leon couldn't hold back his flinch at
those words. The fierce ache in his muscles and most especially his ass
and legs made him very conscious of his recent ordeal.
"We tried everything we could think
of without impairing the power and effectiveness of the BOW. We reduced
the size of its reproductive organ; made the BOW aware and sensitive
enough to understand its victim's arousal level.
"We even ingrained in the BOWs the
ability to share." Leon winced at those words, reminded all too well of
how the Tyrants cooperated and patiently took turns fucking and holding
him for their compatriots.
"But-- we always ended up with a dead
brood mare. So why are you different, young man?" The scientist finally
asked him as he smeared his come stained fingers over Leon's chest.
"We did discover that apart from the
expected hormones, your body chemistry was rather similar to our female
specimens, you know? Would you care to tell us why?"
Leon could not hold back the
bewildered look on his face. He couldn't think of-- "The Starlight
Cruise..."
The scientist frowned at him
curiously. "Yes? That tragic disaster happened a few months back. What
about it? We lost a valuable-- Ahhh, so *you* are Leon S. Kennedy."
Leon stared in confusion as the man
smiled warmly at him. "We heard whispers you picked up an infection on
that fateful ship, Mr. Kennedy. Something which probably *did* change
your biochemistry quite-- 'appropriately' as it now appears."
"What?!" The significance suddenly
registered to him. "Other people get infected to become zombies or BOWs
and I--"
"--became the perfect mate for a
Tyrant." The annoying man grinned at him maliciously. "How so very
interesting, Mr. Kennedy.
"It certainly appeared as if our
Tyrants had a keen interest in your wellbeing. The efforts were
primitive at best. However, they successfully kept you alive by feeding
you the raw cure-all herbs regularly.
"But I have to ask: Are you a perfect
mate for our Tyrants alone? Did any of our other creations approach you
amorously?"
Leon's face went pale as he caught
onto the Umbrella scientist's line of thought. "You sick fuck!"
"This is all for the sake of
scientific experimentation, of course." The man went on as if his
captive hadn't spoken. "Shall we see what reactions you get from other
BOWs, Mr. Kennedy? You do need to make it up to us for our having to
abandon this base, after all. And we have some time to spare for a
little experiment.
"If the BOWs respond well, then it'll
be worthwhile for us to bring you along for further tests. If not...
Your agency will just have an interesting smear to clean up."
They found the labs still surprisingly intact and packed with monsters
of every description twisting and writhing in their Plexiglas fluid
filled cells or snarling at them from within their cages. Of the lab
technicians and controllers though, there were no signs apart from the
stacks of reports and papers strewn about the desks, boxes, and floor.
There were clear indications of an interrupted attempt to pack up the
restricted materials.
At the least, the mission wasn't a complete failure. Even if they
couldn't rescue their rookies, Control would be pleased with the wealth
of information the base would supply. Still, the nervous strike force
weren't any closer to discovering what creature had slaughtered the
personnel at the base, nor found any signs of their rookies yet.
When the guards entered the cell,
Leon had struggled against them with all the strength he could muster
as they re-secured him closer to the floor. Though he knew he faced
impossible odds, Leon hadn't cared and fought and kicked as much as he
was able.
Despite his best efforts, the guards
had Leon quickly chained to the cold, concrete floor with his arms
stretched overhead and his legs spread wide. Additionally, leather
straps had been buckled around his thighs and calves to keep his knees
bent making him feel horribly exposed and vulnerable.
Having noticed the old blood stains
on the floor, Leon guessed the guards probably had a lot of practice
using the manoeuvre with earlier female victims. It did not escape him
that the guards were chuckling over doing this to an obviously male
specimen and openly wondering how the scientists were expecting him to
be bred when he lacked the necessary female parts.
While Leon pulled against the chains
and snarled at his captors, one of the guards had even pushed two
fingers into his still come slicked ass to finger fuck him. Leon did
not appreciate the comment that the BOWs would probably have a better
time since he was tighter than a woman.
At the sound of the first drawn
zipper, Leon stopped struggling to stare at the guard kneeling between
his legs in stunned disbelief. He had survived a gang bang by an
unnamed number of Tyrants and was recently informed he would be given
to varied groups of Umbrella monsters to fuck; Leon couldn't fathom the
implication that he was about to be subjected to human gang rape as
well.
The crowd of guards grinned at his
expression of open incredulity. "We hard working boyo's always get
first fuck. Why should you be any different, Sport?"
"You sick bastards." Leon looked
around him in panic. In his initial struggles, he had been handled by
five guards. He only noticed there were a lot more in the cell with him
now.
He closed his eyes and laid his head
back; willing himself to relax and let his mind drift. Still, he not
could shut out the cruel words of his rapists to be.
"You should be grateful, kid." His
first guard told him as bruising fingers gripped him about the hips.
"It'll help to prepare the plumbing, you know?
"We'll get your hole all nicely
stretched and slick so the experiments won't be fucking you dry. Not
that you really need it, but we like our benefits when we can get 'em."
The painful stretching and difficulty
with which his body reluctantly swallowed the human sized intruder
surprised him. Given the generous proportions of his Tyrant rapists
Leon was quite amazed to not have already been stretched loose. But he
supposed Umbrella made some small effort to give him adequate medical
attention and heal him after his earlier ordeal.
"Oh yeah, baby. He *is* tighter than
a virgin, not what you'd expect him to be, after being pumped full of
come in a Tyrant gang bang."
He offered no resistance at all, even
when the guards forced his mouth open and started to feed their cocks
down his throat as well. The only display Leon allowed himself of his
suffering was his involuntary though barely audible grunts and moans
deep in his chest since the guards took an especially brutal pace as
they fucked him. Otherwise, he kept his mind blank and concentrated on
breathing and paying just enough attention to the various cocks shoved
into his mouth to not choke when they'd spray his throat with semen.
Leon writhed and squirmed miserably
under the weight of his assailants, helplessly impaled on a seemingly
endless train of ravaging cocks. In many ways, the human gang rape was
tougher to endure. While the Tyrants fucked him in absolute silence,
raucous cheers filled the room whenever the guards managed to force his
exhausted body to orgasm and coat his stomach and chest with semen. The
guards also chatted among themselves and took special delight in
taunting him with comparisons to previous victims.
Contrary to what the guards might
think, though, Leon didn't want them to finish too quickly. Given how
he had been re-secured, Leon could guess that he would soon be faced
with Lickers. He was none too eager to be left alone for this next set
of rapists.
Time, however, had flown swiftly by
and it wasn't long before the guards were finally done with Leon. With
the guards' departure, the familiar doctor had reappeared to squat
beside Leon and take in his current state.
For a long moment, Leon had lain
unmoving on the floor, his body cold, numbed and aching from the most
recent abuse heaped upon him. His mind was burning in humiliation to
think about how used and sluttish he must currently look with his legs
secured invitingly open and with his rapists' and his own come
generously splattered and smeared over his exhausted body.
"Tsk! Honestly, just because there's
a surety that they could not impregnate you, they dispensed with the
use of condoms because they wished more intimacy." Leon was surprised
to feel a warm cloth touch him to wipe away the muck splattered over
his face and neck. "The Neanderthals just don't care about the
variables they introduce when they claim to think for themselves..."
More warm, moist towels were rubbed
over him and Leon could feel his skin tingling with the relief being
bestowed upon his abused flesh. From the scent he picked up, Leon
guessed that the water with which they washed him was infused with
green herbal cure alls.
The sting of an injection and the
rush of liquid fire through his veins drew his attention back to the
doctor who was emptying a syringe of green fluid into his arm. "What?
Did you expect me to feed you pulped herbs?" The doctor sniffed
disdainfully at his questioning gaze.
"Please! This is a modern facility.
We have more than ample supplies to make life comfortable for our
important experiments. You just need to ensure you stay important to
us, Mr. Kennedy."
"Your hospitality arrangements need
work if your idea of 'comfortable' includes gang rape." Leon grumbled
petulantly.
"Didn't the guards give you a couple
of good orgasms? That is, after all, to make up for the hardship of
being used by a BO--"
"You arrange a human gang rape to
alleviate the trauma of sex with a BOW?! You're mad!"
"Not at all. We use humans as a
Control to judge a BOW's performance." The doctor seemed totally
oblivious of the open incredulity Leon showed him. "As informative as
the tapes we have of the Tyrants fucking you, they are abnormities.
We'd rather have humans as the norm for comparison.
"I must say though, I was surprised
to observe little discernable difference in the enthusiasm of the
guards fucking you as compared to the usual female subjects-- apart
from the obvious physical differences that is."
Leon growled at the doctor, but the
man did not take the hint to shut up. "Quite fascinating, actually. You
were completely passive and it should have dampened the mood. But *all*
the guards were eager enough to want to come back and fuck you a second
time.
"Not that we'd let them. Shiftless
creatures-- We have no time to waste on fun and games. We have a
timetable to follow to ensure that we strip this place and leave before
your Agency reinforcements arrive.
"Now where was I? Oh, yes! Was this
eagerness also observable in your normal life, Mr. Kennedy?"
Leon glared at the curious doctor.
Whether or not the words gave him cause to reflect on his life the few
months after the Starlight mission, he refused to answer the question
posed to him. Anyway, Jack had been his only lover since they became
fuck buddies. He had been no more or less enthusiastic over the last
few months as compared to the previous year.
The reality of his situation suddenly
crashed upon Leon then. Jack wasn't the only man to know his body now.
Over the last several hours, he had been repeatedly ravaged and raped
by an unknown number of strangers and Umbrella monsters. And more
monsters were currently being lined up to fuck him...
The tears came unbidden. Leon didn't
think of death very often, but when he did he'd always been sure it'd
be in the midst of battle with a gun and/or a knife in his hands. Much
like the way his team mates died. Right now, Leon was staring at the
possibility of dying while impaled on a monster's cock or being fucked
to death under the direction of a bunch of Umbrella scientists.
The raw humiliation and despair which
filled him was enough to make Leon completely oblivious of the doctor's
departure with his assistants. It was, unfortunately, almost impossible
for him not to notice when a gate against one of the walls opened to
allow three Lickers to enter the room.
Jack stared at the man-sized creature with an exposed brain, huge
teeth, and an abnormally long tongue which lashed sluggishly in the
fluid filled cylinder before him. It reminded him of the stories Leon
told him about his 'adventure' in Raccoon City all those years ago.
The kid had been far from over the trauma of his escape from the doomed
city in the early years of their association. Jack could still remember
the couple of times he had awakened holding a struggling wildcat and
had to carefully wake the kid from his nightmare. If he recalled the
descriptions correctly, Leon called the thing a Licker.
"Damn ugly fucker, aren't you?"
Leon closed his eyes and kept very
still, trying not to draw their attention. But that was of course
futile since the Lickers could scent him. The whip-like slap of their
tongues in the air made him think of what he had read about snakes,
where they used their tongues to help them taste the scent of their
prey. Leon did think that the Lickers probably used their tongue in the
same way.
The first lash of a tongue against
his chest surprised Leon enough to make him gasp. However, it had
admittedly shocked him more than it hurt.
A second and a third lash followed
quickly, causing reddening welts to appear on his skin. Before long,
the tongues started to thrash at him with greater frequency, but Leon
refused to scream over the flogging. Though it stung, Leon had enough
previous experience in Raccoon City to recognise that the strikes were
not made with full force and were not as bad as they could have been.
He had the impression that the
Lickers were tasting him; trying to understand the prey that the
scientists had tied down for them. When the lashes started to strike
his inner thighs though, that was when Leon started to find difficulty
in holding his voice.
He had gasped with the first
accidental hit against his genitals. Then the first tongue had found
and nudged against the opening of his asshole and a rough sandpaper
like organ tried to force its way in. Leon's scream resounded in the
cell and beyond as he felt his skin begin to tear.
"Captain!" All eyes turned to the soldier who stood in front of the
open door at the other end of the room. "Found-- the lab techs..."
If the corridors they had passed through were bad, the observation room
they discovered was carnage of an Armageddon magnitude. The same
question was on everyone's minds 'Just what the hell happened here?'
The Tyrants sat on the bench in their
rest area to await their Masters' summons. There were less of them now,
though not by a significant amount. The intruders that they had
eliminated earlier had caused some small dent to their numbers. It was,
however, not in their nature to notice their missing 'brothers.'
It was not in their programming to
think beyond the task presented to them by their Masters. However,
there was a noteworthy event which stayed in their memories; a mate.
Not the toys they were given before, but a true mate.
While the special little human had at
first behaved badly and tried to push them away and defy them, it had
been easily disciplined and brought under control. It had also
understood and accepted the benefits of obedience. They kept it healthy
and healed. All they asked in return was its submission and compliance
which it gave them without further struggle. It was a good mate.
But their little Masters had earlier
shooed them back to their rest area and took charge of the precious
creature. It had annoyed them that they were not allowed to bring their
mate back to their rest area. It was their mate. It-- was their right.
They did not like it; not knowing what was happening to their mate.
However, they had to obey their Masters...
A distant scream rose in the silence
of the compound. As one, the Tyrants came to their feet. They
recognised their mate's voice. They could hear the agony in his cry.
Their mate was in danger. The little Masters had not protected their
mate after they took it away from them. *They* needed to protect it.
The little bosses with the fire
sticks did not like it when they started to walk out of their rest
area. They were making a lot of noise and waving their fire sticks
around a lot. The brothers knew that they should obey the little
bosses. However, that was until they noticed a familiar scent clinging
to the small ones.
The brothers closest to the little
bosses picked them up to verify their suspicions. The unmistakable
scent of their mate was on the skin and clothes of the little bosses.
This was an outrage. While the brothers shared among themselves, they
did not accord the same privileges to other species. Not even to the
little bosses or their Masters. Their mate should be sacrosanct. This
was unforgivable.
They punished the little bosses.
Their bodies made amusing cracking sounds when slammed into the walls
or broken across their knees. All who dared to take liberties with
their mate would have to be punished and there were many of the fire
stick wielding little bosses. They were annoying, but on the whole
easily dealt with.
Their mate was screaming again,
reminding them of more pressing concerns. They needed to reach it. A
few of the brothers fell to never rise again, but more of the wicked
violators joined them in the dust. They would not be stopped from
saving their mate.
With the screams guiding them, the
brothers easily located the cell where the little Masters had put their
mate. What they found upon crashing through the wall and entering the
room set their blood boiling. Three Lickers dared to taste their mate!
From the numerous welt marks over their mate's skin, it was clear that
the Lickers had delivered quite a literal tongue-lashing to their
chained and helpless mate.
Even as the Tyrants strode purposely
into the room, the scene they took in was unmistakable. Their mate was
being seriously distressed by the two Lickers that were forcing their
tongues into his bleeding ass while vying with a third which was
hovering over him and trying to stab its erect penis into the same hole.
The Lickers were quickly and messily
dealt with. The humans though were becoming more annoying as the ones
with the white coats, which designated their position as the little
Masters, came rushing into the cell to yell at them.
Presented with the choice of
listening to the little Masters to return to their rest area while
leaving their mate where he was still obviously in danger, and taking
their mate's well being into their own hands, the Tyrants broke their
programming to put their mate's needs over that of their 'Masters'.
Besides, the little Masters tried to
send the little bosses who smelled of their mate to enforce their
demands. They had to punish the little bosses to stake their claim over
their mate. None but they should have the privilege of the breeding
dance with their mate.
Both the little Masters and the
little bosses had just proved they were untrustworthy. They treated
their mate cruelly and overstepped their rights. The brothers
determined to protect their mate. All others would need to be
eliminated.
"Dang!" Matt toed one of the white coated bodies whose head was meshed
to a pulp. "What did this to these guys?"
"Tyrants..." The Captain muttered absently as she read the clipboard
she picked up.
Jack knelt beside the pile of broken inch thick chains which lay in the
centre of the room. "Fuck! Whatever it was that broke these, was a
strong bastard."
He stared at the fresh blood stains on the floor before letting his
eyes rove over to the oily humanoid shaped grey-green stains and the
three reddish humanoid shaped stains which lay on the ground near by.
It made Jack immediately recall the creature he had been looking at
earlier. True enough, there were snaking lines of red near the three
reddish stains.
"They chained their victims here..." The words left Jack's mouth the
moment the thought flashed through his mind. "The sick fucks..."
"Cap!" Jack looked around as Ray came in through the door of the
observation room. "We-- we found the bodies of our blokes. It's-- it's
all of them accounted for except one, Cap. It's--"
"Kennedy." The Captain didn't look up from the clipboard.
"Er-- yeah. How did--?"
The announcement had Jack striding across the room to stand before his
Captain. His hand was trembling with emotion as his mind went wild to
think of what might have been done to Leon in this room.
The Captain turned away from the Ray to eye Jack for a moment before
handing him the clipboard she held in her hands. Jack went white when
he read what was in the notes.
"Those sick fucks!"
Nodding her head towards the busted chains that lay in a heap on the
blood stained floor, the Captain voiced what was on everyone's
thoughts. "Whatever did this rescued him from Umbrella's experiments--
and must still have him."
He woke in the darkness of the night
feverish, but feeling unaccountably safe and sheltered in the arms of
someone much larger than him. For a moment, Leon was reminded of his
childhood and being snuggled up against his father who'd hold him safe
from a night time thunderstorm.
A cold cloth rubbed over his face,
giving Leon some relief from the heat. He knew he was burning up from a
fever and the cool relief did some little bit to make him feel better,
but there were also cold chills running through his whole body and he
could not stop shivering in the comforting embrace he was in. Then
there were the fierce abdominal pains, various aches in his muscles,
and he was sweating up a storm.
How he came to be in this sorry state
though stayed a mystery for a little longer; the last time Leon
remembered feeling this bad was when he was poisoned. However, he
couldn't recall running across any spide--
Leon came abruptly awake as he
remembered what he had last been engaged in before he blacked out. The
night sky greeted his eyes before a large shaped loomed over him.
It took Leon's fuzzy senses a while
to recognise the being hovering over him. Awareness of the well muscled
arms which held him in a comfortable embrace also crept in slowly. The
Tyrant tending to him exchanged the now warm cloth for a new cool wet
rag, reminding him of his fever. Bits of memories were returning to him
of the Lickers attacking and 'playing' with him and how the Tyrants had
burst into the room to kill his tormenters.
Looking away from the Tyrant tending
to him, Leon noticed the first aid spray can and the piles of green,
red and yellow herbs the other Tyrants were coming back with. It
registered then that they were trying to save his life.
Despite the fever, Leon's mind worked
sufficiently to figure out what was wrong with him. Blood poisoning
caused when the Lickers had torn into his ass and allowed bacteria to
enter his already taxed system. If the Tyrants didn't cure him soon,
Leon knew that he would slip into septic shock and die.
Leon briefly entertained the idea of
finally leaving the land of the living rather than staying alive and in
the clutches of a gang of Tyrants who liberated him from the Umbrella
compound. Even as he thought this, the Tyrant holding him rubbed a
pulped green, red and yellow herbal cocktail mix into his open wounds
making them tingle painfully with their healing power.
A lecture flitted through his mind
then, making Leon recall warnings from the instructors that the herbs
were good only for short term use. Ultimately, proper medical care and
rest was required for a body to truly heal completely. The herbs only
gave an 'illusion' of 'good' health, and long term dependence was
highly discouraged as they could also be addictive. Besides, the
Tyrant's current application of these rare and special plants was
primitive field medicine at best.
For all their apparent concern, the
Tyrants were clearly not able to render more capable medical care. If
Leon wasn't very aware that the Tyrants would be fucking his brains out
if he had not been sick, he might have judged their actions as 'sweet'
and their concern for his health 'touching'. How ever much the Tyrants
tried though, Leon knew that first aid spray and the herbs they had now
wouldn't save his life.
It was the thought of Sherry and how
upset she would be to be informed of his death which finally prompted
his decision. "Blue--" He rasped the words to the Tyrant who had sprung
to his side at his attempt to speak. "Blue herb--"
Leon couldn't be sure the Tyrants
understood what he was trying to tell them, but he had done his part in
making his choice to live and deal with the consequences. He wasn't
even exactly sure that the Blue herbs would work against blood
poisoning either since they were general purpose poison antidotes. But
Leon figured it would be no harm to try.
In less time than he thought was
possible, Leon felt something moist touch his lips and a familiar
smelling lump of pulped medicinal leaves were teased into his mouth. He
tasted the blue herb as well as the booster red herb in the solid mess
which he struggled to chew and swallow. It seemed the Tyrants were not
taking a chance with his health and well being.
Leon's guess was thankfully being
proven correct as he felt his fever coming down and the chills which
racked his much abused body began to subside. More of the pulped herbs
were gently applied to the bleeding and swollen tears about his anus
which had resisted the earlier treatment.
For now, it looked like Leon won a
few more hours of survival. He'd give thought to escape after he
rested. With a sigh, Leon let himself slip into sleep in the arms of
his protector, hoping that the Tyrants weren't going to be rude enough
as to want to start rutting him as soon as his body appeared
sufficiently healed.
Their mate was resting easier now,
but they knew he was still weak from his injuries. As much as they
would like to fuck their mate to re-establish their scent markings on
him, his health was too delicate to handle them now despite the vastly
reduced numbers. Of the scores of Tyrants that used to exist, only
eight had survived.
However, as the one that carried
their mate looked up at his 'brothers,' they were becoming aware that
they were seven too many. Without their little Masters, they had to
make their own decisions. And though it was easy to concur on matters
concerning the health and welfare of their mate, deciding what to do as
a group was no longer simple.
Fortunately, before they can be ready
to decide among themselves on rank and position within their little
group, they first had to see to their mate's needs. They had to find
him food, shelter and more of the blue herbs.
From the observation room, the team of agents cautiously followed the
bloody footprints to another section of the compound only to find a
busted garage door leading into the wilderness behind the base. Jack
looked towards his squad leader with some worry. He knew exactly what
the woman was weighing in her mind.
The Umbrella base was secured and most of the cadets found. They had
already sent a signal out for the clean up crew to come in to take
charge of the base. The only loose end was one missing rookie and the
surviving Umbrella monsters who had slaughtered all of the human
personnel at the base.
Their squad numbered ten blokes who had more fire power than the
rookies, and probably the Umbrella guards as well. However, dare she
risk them in an attempt to track down and rescue one man from an
unknown foe?
"We move on." The Captain announced at last as she turned to look back
at her squad. "We've never abandoned a man before; I'm not going to
start now.
"But move carefully and *quietly*. We're not going to do a lick of good
for Kennedy if we get careless and die before we liberate him."
The fever broke and their little mate
was finally resting comfortably. The agreement came reluctantly, but
the brothers decided that the one whose overcoat was most intact would
have the privilege of holding and caring for their mate for the rest of
the night.
From what little the brothers knew of
humans, they did not like the cold and always covered themselves up in
many layers of cloth. They had been terribly remiss in not securing
clothes for their mate before they left their erstwhile home.
The custodian brother wrapped his
arms around their mate to surround it with his body heat. From the way
it sighed and unconsciously pressed its body against the brother, their
mate appreciated the sharing of warmth. It seemed innocent and
comfortable enough arrangements.
However, left alone with their mate,
the custodian brother could not resist temptation. Hidden from the
watchful eyes of its brethren beneath the voluminous trench coat, the
brother gently touched and examined the small and fragile human in its
arms.
The brother first carefully examined
their mate to make sure the various cuts and tears the hated Lickers
had left behind were truly healed. For a while earlier, the brothers
had all been worried for its health. Now, however, the danger appeared
safely passed and their mate whole again.
That being the case... This seemed
too opportune a moment to have some private time with their mate for
the brother to resist.
While he really did not have a
problem sharing with his brothers, an underlying feeling of
possessiveness could at times feel uncomfortably prominent. The brother
couldn't exactly pin point why he felt so selfishly inclined. However,
the fact of the matter was, he really desired exclusivity.
Right now, for these brief few hours
before dawn, he could have it with their mate. He wasn't going to waste
the opportunity.
He allowed his hands to softly stroke
their mate's skin to get it in the 'mood.' Still, he prudently clamped
a hand over the little human's mouth to muffle any cries it might make.
This move marked their mate's
awakening, but it didn't try to pull away or struggle. That was good.
The brother would not have been pleased if it did. He was already
risking his brothers' wrath to sneak this intimacy.
He took things slow, first teasingly
easing his pre-come leaking cock between his mate's thighs, and then
sliding it up and down the cleft of its ass. He could feel his mate
trembling in his arms. Whether this was from cold or fear, he didn't
know. However, it was a good enough prompt to him to start inserting
his eager cock into the waiting mating hole.
He could feel his mate biting his
hand with his slow entry. It did not matter to him. The little one's
teeth did not cut deeply enough to draw blood.
The illicit pleasure of this private
mating dance was exquisite. His mate's channel was tight and warm
around his cock, making it almost an agony for him to control himself
and move slowly.
Still, he kept enough sense in him to
not hasten his pace. He truly did not want to injured his mate, and he
did understand that he could possibly tear the fragile human to pieces
if he was too rough.
It felt like forever passed before
his mate's buttocks were finally pressed against his pelvis. Both he
and his mate were now panting and sweaty, and the pleasure which
coursed through his veins from this intimate possession was well worth
the effort.
He let his hand wander down to grip
and stroke his mate's cock. It was nowhere as hard as his own cock,
buried deep in his mate, but he was pleased to find it erect.
A few strokes ensured it hardened to
full arousal. However, this caused his mate to clench inner muscles
about his cock, making his head spin from the pleasure it caused.
He could not hold himself back any
more. The tight clench about his cock did not allow him much leeway to
draw out. Still, a slight rocking of his hips created sufficient
friction to provide a feeling of mind blowing pleasure.
He felt trickles of moisture flowing
over the hand he had clamped over his mate's mouth. A small part of him
recognised the fluid as tears and that his little mate was in distress,
but the larger part of him was too lost in lust to care very much.
Besides, he didn't understand what
his mate could be distressed about. His mate's hands were on his, but
they were not pulling on them as if to pry them away. His mate's grip
could be taken as being there for support.
Furthermore, the cock in his other
hand was hard and leaking pre-come, attesting to his mate's arousal. He
saw no reason to believe his activity was unwelcome.
"Think the kid's still kicking?" Matt nudge an empty first aid can from
the pile of discarded leaves and twigs they had found surrounding a
make shift camp fire.
"Seein' how they're bothering to use this stuff, they want 'im healthy.
Besides, we'd have found a body by now if he was dead. "
Jack forcefully kept himself from flinching at the word 'dead'. He was
very aware that his Captain was keeping a careful eye on him.
"No one's explained why Kennedy's been treated so special yet,
Captain." Jack looked at his squad commander with a bit of challenge in
his tone. "Why'd what-ever-it-is-- those 'Tyrants' take him alive when
they slaughtered everyone else at the base."
"Shit, I'd like to know myself."
They were discovered. To be honest
about it, Leon hadn't been surprised. The Tyrant could keep him quiet,
but it couldn't have masked their unmistakable movements.
The other Tyrants were pissed with
the bold one. Leon just wanted to crawl away and hide. He didn't want
to remain lying nude and vulnerable at the feet of his 'arguing'
captors.
He counted eight Tyrants and thanked
the gods for this greatly reduced figure. He could probably handle that
number easily. A bout of hysterical laughter caught in Leon's throat
for the thought of his feeling any confidence regarding the gang rapes
he was sure to be subjected to.
A few more minutes passed before Leon
determined that his captors were too engrossed in their argument to
care what he did. With one eye on the crowd of Tyrants, Leon slowly
crawled to the side of the fast flowing river.
The Tyrants had momentarily stopped
their conversation to watch him when he reached the water. However,
seeing that Leon was only taking a drink and then gingerly splashing
the cold water over his skin to give himself a cursory wash, they swung
their attention back to their 'problem'.
Leon stared at the fast flowing
river. In his current weakened state, it would be suicidal for him to
enter the waters and attempt to use the river to escape his captors. He
struggled just to crawl, there was no way he'd be able to swim.
He closed his eyes for a moment to
tune his senses on his physical condition. The herbs had healed the
worst of Leon's injuries, but he was still covered in half faded
bruises and ached fiercely-- and...
He had had more sex force upon him in
the last 24 hours than he ever had in his 24 years of life; Leon
couldn't understand why his body hadn't gone numb from the abuse hours
ago. After this experience, Leon swore that he would be perfectly
content if he never had sex again.
Besides, he never told the man, but
Jack had been his only chosen lover. And Leon wondered, should he
survive, if Jack would ever want to touch him again... Leon furiously
blinked away his tears and tried to blank his mind.
He angrily told himself that his
tears had nothing to do with Jac-- Krauser. He was just overwrought
from his ordeal. He was sick and tired of being *everyone's* fuck toy--
of being fucked. If it had been up to Umbrella, Leon knew that they'd
have paraded every living thing at the base into his cell to fuck him.
Right now, however, he was a prisoner
of a group of Tyrants... One of whom had just fucked the shit out of
him through the night. And he knew that it wouldn't just end here with
this internal disagreement among his captors. It was a surety that he
would be raped again and...
Leon fell into the river before the
Tyrants realised what his intention was. He stayed limp, letting the
waters carry him away.
Leon couldn't say that he
particularly cared if he drowned or not. In fact, he thought it to be a
cleaner death.
The crew stood back and waited as their best tracker scanned the
clearing to try and 'read' what had occurred hours earlier. "Well, Ben?"
Ben whistled long and low. "Gotta give the kid points for daring, if
not good sense... He crawled from over there and slipped into the river
right here."
There eyes followed the fingers pointing at the messy tracks. "Have a
good enough indication there were eight of those things with him. Seven
now, apparently--
"One of them got put down right here." The large humanoid slime stain
stood out clearly in the afternoon sun.
"About half the bunch entered the river over there and the rest ran
along side." Ben reached for his map to give it a look over before
coming to his feet. "Hope the kid had a plan to get out of the river.
There are some wicked rapids further down."
The Captain laid a hand on Krauser's shoulder as they set off down the
river. It was a thought shared by a few of them that perhaps Kennedy
hadn't cared if he managed to escape alive.
Certainly all signs had pointed to the kid having been subjected to a
heartbreaking amount of abuse. They were in two minds whether or not to
hope he managed to escape in death. None of them expected him to be in
any shape to successfully evade his captors.
The alternative was that he was captured alive once again. Frankly,
that sounded like the worse of the two fates.
(shortly after Leon's 'escape')
The brothers had thought their mate
fainted and fell into the river. The one who was found abusing the
frail human thus had no more defence and was dealt with harshly by half
of the family while the other half ran for the river. It was a hard
swim for the brothers who took to the water, but they managed to reach
their drowning mate before he hit the rapids.
It had distressed them to have their
mate struggling and screaming in their grip. As unfathomable as the
thought was, the brothers came to realise that their mate hadn't fallen
into the river accidentally, but had deliberately tried to kill
himself. This angered them.
Recalling their first disciplining
session, one of the brothers quickly turned the human over a knee to
spank him again. At the least, their mate knew better than to struggle
this time and quickly went limp in their grip.
They did not spend very long turning
his buttocks red. However, the Tyrants also knew a spanking was not
enough and that they had to be sure their mate understood his status
with them.
They tumbled him off the lap of his
spanker onto the sandy riverbank and quickly secured him on his back
and wrenched his legs apart. He had cried and whimpered to feel the
first weeping cock head pressed against the pucker of his ass, but
submissively did not struggle.
They did not fuck him immediately
though, but gently stroked their hands over his face and body. They
remembered that it was not very long ago when he had been so cruelly
abused by three Lickers who had torn into his frail body and was
further raped by the brother who was supposed to care for him through
the night.
While waywardness had to be punished,
they did not want their mate to hate or fear them. He had to be taught
his position. But out of concern for his health they could do it
gently.
The brothers fucked their mate
tenderly. They each took their time to softly stroke his face and body
soothingly, trying to get him to stop his crying before they firmly
slid their cock into him.
It was difficult to curb their
enthusiasm. The lingering scent of the traitorous little bosses and the
trespassing Lickers called to them to be replaced and for their claim
to be resolutely exerted. However, as much as they wanted to fuck their
mate with greater force and fervour, they understood that he was in too
poor health to currently endure taking all of them in a more energetic
fashion.
Time and again, the little human
would make tiny, delicious noises of distress and pain which they
forced themselves not to respond to with a quicker pace. It was
difficult to hold back and stop themselves from slamming their bodies
against their mate's upturned and quivering, cherry red buttocks. But
they understood that the ordeal was already of great difficulty to
their hurting mate. This was, after all, a punishment and claiming
alone, since their mate was exhausted and in too much pain to feel
arousal with their fucking.
By the time each of the brothers had
their turn, their mate appeared sufficiently cowed and docile. He had
even stopped crying and accepted being picked up and carried without
protest or struggle. They felt confident that their mate would refrain
from showing any further rebellion.
Still, it seemed prudent that they
avoid setting up camp near the river from now on. If their mate needed
water, they could easily carry it to him.
The Captain sighed as she looked at the gloomy expression on their
resident tracker's face. "How bad?"
"They dragged him out of the river right over there." Ben told them
sorrowfully as he nodded towards a patch of scuffed sand and weeds.
"And-- brought him over here-- where--"
He didn't need to go on. There was a very distinct impression left in
the sand. An obvious mark of a man-sized body laid on it, with numerous
depressions which could have been knees placed between spread legs.
Jack cursed under his breath. "Why can't they leave him be?! What
happened around here that there are whole squads of god damn perverts
banging the kid at every turn?"
No one had an answer for him. Jack swore to himself that he would get
to the bottom of this privately if he had to.
"The kid isn't going to last much longer if this keeps up." The Captain
growled to them grimly as she gestured to her squad. "Let's move on.
"And stay on the alert! Remember, we won't be able to help Kennedy if
we get ourselves killed first."
Leon woke up later that morning lying
upon a bed of dead leaves, cold and stiff. At first, Leon wasn't sure
what to think about his continued status of being alive and a prisoner
of this gang of Tyrants. Then he firmly chided himself for that moment
of weakness which made him choose to drown rather than try to figure
out a solution to his situation.
When he could have allowed himself to
die from blood poisoning earlier, he had chosen to advise his captors
on how to save his life. Agency training had always been about
survival. He was alive despite the hours of abuse heaped upon him, and
that was a victory in and of itself.
His captors were creatures of great
strength, though low intelligence, Leon told himself that he could
surely outsmart them. With his determination back on the right track,
Leon took a quick assessment of his current physical condition.
Being 'disciplined' again had not
been pleasant. And Leon's rump was hurting enough to remind him of the
spanking and the little gang bang which followed.
Still, this was the least number of
'lovers' he'd had to put up with on the mission so far. Plus, Leon knew
they had been unaccountably gentle with him or he'd be in worse shape
than he was now.
Leon wasn't quite sure what to think
of the Tyrant's considerate act in caring about his less than hale and
hearty condition. Kind or not, however, Leon doubted that he'd survive
many more gang rape sessions.
A cursory glance around the camp told
him where his captors were scattered in the area relative to him. This
seemed curious to Leon. Considering his earlier attempt to escape, he
would have thought at least one Tyrant would be within arms reach of
him.
Then he recalled the argument he had
witnessed before he tried to escape into the river. And his eyes
narrowed slightly in thought to note that there were just seven Tyrants
with him now.
'Trouble in paradise...' A slight
breeze through the camp made Leon shiver on his bed of leaves, and
prompted a plan to take shape in his mind.
Stiffly, Leon meekly crawled off his
bed of leaves towards the Tyrant who sat poking at the fire and the
cooking breakfast. He was very aware all the Tyrants in the camp had
suddenly turned to watch him.
Without being too obvious about it
(though with a care for his seriously aching body) Leon added a sensual
roll to his hips in his slow progress towards the Tyrant beside the
fire. Jack had always claimed that Leon looked hot when he playfully
stalked him on all fours. Leon could feel the heat in the eyes which
were on him now, giving more credence to Jack's opinion.
With an appealing though submissive
look up at his target Tyrant, Leon crawled onto its lap to snuggle and
let his body drink in the heat of its fire warmed clothes. An arm
hesitantly came around to rest over Leon's shoulders, making him sigh
slightly with the added comfort.
The tension in the air was palpable.
Leon nuzzled deeper into the possessive hold of the Tyrant beside the
fire and buried his smile in its coat. Things were finally looking up.
As much as the Tyrants were initially
able to 'share' him, this was clearly at odds with their individual
wants and desires; perhaps even instincts. His earlier experience with
Tyrants certainly made him think they were solitary rather than social
creatures. It was an insight which Leon wished he had realised on the
river bank when he had seen the Tyrants being angry with the one who
fuck him throughout the night and tried to keep it secret.
As long as he did not give the
Tyrants any trouble, they would begin to look at their current
situation through selfish eyes with a desire to possess him
exclusively. With a bit of manipulation, Leon felt confident that he
could surreptitiously instigate his captors into fighting among
themselves.
If he was lucky, the sole survivor
might even be weak enough for him to finish off on his own without a
gun. He'd cross that bridge when he got there. Leon swore that he
wouldn't lose faith from here on out and stay determined to outwit
Umbrella's monsters.
Snuggled in the warmth of the Tyrant
holding him, Leon day dreamed of finding a rock he could lift to bash
in the head of a conjectural last captor. It was a future he was going
to put all his energy into making come true.
They had watched Ben their pathfinder and tracker signal them to be
more careful and quiet. The squad had covered a lot of ground since
they left the Umbrella base. There was no reason for the monsters who
took Kennedy to believe they would be followed, so they didn't expect
them to have travelled very far. Considering how their only concern
appeared to be for the care and keeping of their captive, the squad
were expecting to catch up soon.
After all the trouble they had had
with their mate since they first met him, it was good to see him
finally relaxing among them. It had pleased the brothers greatly to
have him voluntarily approach them instead of keeping his distance.
However, their mate's acceptance of their dominance was creating
problems among the brothers.
In their determination not to fight
among themselves over the privilege of having him sleep in their arms,
they had forgotten about the fragility of humans and their need to be
kept warm. None could fault their mate for seeking out the brother who
was tending the fire.
Nevertheless, his track towards the
brother on hands and knees before climbing into his lap to snuggle, had
perceptibly raised the temperature of all who watched him. The brothers
almost come to blows when the one tending the fire was reluctant to
relinquish his hold on their mate.
They had since set the little human
up on a bed of leaves under a tree with a discarded coat and a small
fire near him to keep him warm. However, even that was maddening to the
brothers.
Their mate had sat where he had been
left in docile obedience, looking up only when they approached to offer
him food or water. Perhaps it wasn't intentional, but the human would
shy away when he accidentally touched the hand of a brother offering
him food. And he'd blush very prettily when he was offered water to sip
from the palm of a brother's cupped hand.
It inflamed them.
More and more the brothers found
themselves looking upon each other as rivals and competitors. More and
more, they thought it unfair to command their frail mate to service so
many lovers. They knew that he was unwell, and would remain in poor
health if they made too many demands upon his fragile body.
It was a small thing which set them
off; a brother had approached their mate to offer him a handful of
green herbs for his aches and pains. He was awarded with a smile and a
shy touch; a gift which led to the brother raising a hand to gently
stroke their mate's reddened cheeks.
They could hear distant sounds of fighting. The squad couldn't imagine
what woodland creature would be suicidal enough to attack a camp of
Tyrants, but they were happy for an opportunity to strike while the
BOWs were distracted. The proximity of the ruckus also let the squad
know that they finally caught up with the target.
"Don't run! Arrive there out of breath and we'll not be of any help to
Kennedy." The Captain hissed at them urgently as she firmly set the
pace at a fast walk.
Krauser reined back one of the more eager members of the troop. "You
saw the bodies. We know there're just seven, but we haven't yet seen
what kind of monsters these Tyrants are.
"Remember! They slaughtered the humans at the base."
It wasn't easy to hold themselves back from rushing into action. The
squad had been ready for it since they landed outside the Umbrella base
what felt like an eternity ago, and they were all impatient to meet the
enemy to rescue the sole surviving rookie.
As it was, they kept enough sense to slow their step and stealthily
approach the enemy camp. The sight which greeted them caused even their
old veteran of a Captain to drop her jaw in shock.
They saw the enemy first before noticing their abused and fragile
looking rookie lying under a tree and safely away from the battle
ground. The lumbering greyish-green monsters were hulking creatures.
All too clearly, Jack recalled Leon's descriptions of the BOWs he faced
in Raccoon City years earlier.
For that stunned instance, the squad was fortunate the Tyrants were in
a pitched battle among themselves. That split second was enough time
for the humans to recompose themselves and stand at the ready when the
surviving three Tyrants became aware of the intruders and redirected
their aggression.
Damn, but the bastards could take a lot of punishment. The squad's
formation was quickly broken as the Tyrants rounded on them with
outstretched arms and lay about them with wild haymakers. How ever many
bullets the men were unloading into the massive creatures, they just
seemed to refuse to fall.
Jack yelled and fired desperately at one of the Tyrants who caught hold
of Matt in a moment of inattention when he was reloading his shotgun.
Two more guns joined his rapid fire tattoo of death, but that proved to
be too late for Matt who fell with a crushed skull before the Tyrant
finally went down.
Ray was the next to fall as he tripped and was stomped into the ground
before he could get back on his feet. The Captain and Ben took quick
revenge with a grenade and a full clip of bullets in the Tyrant's back.
The last Tyrant was craftier. It had used their distraction when
dealing with its compatriots to reach for and uproot a tree, then
turned in time to swing it into them before they could point their
weapons its way.
Jack wasn't too proud to admit he nearly shit himself when he looked
up, after his head stopped ringing, to see the Tyrant holding a tree
trunk over its head ready to bash him into the ground. He had been all
too aware of his TMP lying what felt like a mile away from him as he
stared death in the face.
A sudden burst of gunfire caught the Tyrant in the back, making it
stagger to one side and allowed Jack to twist away in the opposite
direction. Jack rolled desperately until he found himself lying near
Ben who was carefully trying to untangle the strap of his gun from his
broken arm to hand it to him.
The bark of a heavy shotgun sounded in the air again, drawing Jack's
attention back to the staggering Tyrant which had turned to face its
attacker. However, it was clearly too late for the Tyrant to do
anything in retaliation. It had finally taken enough damage to fall.
Its killer, however, did not seem to care to stop shooting at it.
No one made a move to stop Kennedy from emptying Matt's reloaded
shotgun into the disintegrating corpse. For a long moment, no one dared
to speak when Kennedy finally laid the empty weapon on his naked lap.
Picking himself off the ground, Jack stomped up behind Leon, making
enough noise to 'rouse the dead' just to be sure the kid heard his
approach. "Y'know, Leon?" Jack grumped as he knelt beside him. "I could
have sworn that *we* were supposed to be saving *you* and not the other
way around."
Leon let out a cough of laughter as he turned to look at Jack. For
almost a full minute, Jack found himself locked in Leon's anguished
gaze before his arms were suddenly filled with the younger man's body.
No one said anything. Not a single comment was made of the broken
sobbing or the death grip the rookie had around Jack. After all he had
been through, the kid had the right to collapse and have his breakdown
now that he was finally safe with friends and allies surrounding him.
Jack Krauser was angry and he didn't care who knew about it. A class of
nine out of ten rookies were killed; Jack lost two of his buddies to
Umbrella's monsters; most of the surviving squad, including him, were
laid up or receiving out patient treatment for busted limbs and/or
bruised ribs; his lover had been severely abused, traumatized and left
in poor shape-- And no one could offer a decent explanation why the
'Tyrants' had given Leon this special treatment.
Jack had his suspicions though. Upon their return to base, the Agency
doctors had been quick to whisk them all away for treatment and
observation. However, they hadn't exactly brought Leon to the same
trauma unit as the rest of the squad.
Jack had seen them enter the laboratory wing where Leon had stayed for
half a day before being wheeled out to the standard recovery area.
Something wasn't sitting right about the situation...
"There's more to the world then meets the eye, Lt. Krauser."
Jack swung around in startled surprise at having his mind 'read'. He
had thought he was alone in the corridor of the medical facility. "Col.
Wesker."
"At ease, soldier." The older officer nodded to him as he adjusted his
dark glasses. "Have you thought over my offer?"
Jack frowned at him. The suggestions which had been put to him had been
unbelievable and disturbing when Wesker first looked him up, but after
this mission-- Jack wasn't so sure anymore. "Maybe..."
"The Agency set this up, you know? Putting Kennedy in the path of
Umbrella BOWs, that is."
"What?"
"There was a change in his biochemistry-- after his mission on the
Starlight Cruise."
Jack recalled that mission. Leon had been slapped into quarantine for
nearly a month after it when he returned oozing green puss from a small
cut on his neck. The poor guy had been bored stiff and really
appreciated the little gifts of magazines and books which Jack had sent
to him. When he was finally released, no one had seen hide or hair of
either of them on that first weekend of liberty. As far as Jack
recalled though, nothing had come of the medical scare.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Wait a--"
"The doctors have already corrected his biochemistry." Wesker told him
casually as he tapped out a cigarette and lit it. "The condition showed
little advantage.
"Granted it saved his life, but the Tyrants raped the shit out of him
and he was almost fucked to death by other humans and BOWs..."
Jack swallowed hard. His instincts told him that Wesker wasn't lying to
him. It fitted all too well. The Agency which they worked for-- He
couldn't believe-- hadn't wanted to believe they'd play with the lives
of their agents like--
"Think about it, Krauser. This is whom you work for right now." Wesker
strode away leaving Jack alone in the corridor once more.
Jack's head was swimming as he continued on his way to locate Leon's
recovery room. It didn't take him long to find the right room. Gods did
the kid look shattered.
Jack knocked on the door to catch Leon's attention but almost flinched
at the haunted eyes which looked up at him. He could feel the anger
well up within him again to think of what his lover had been subjected
to.
Beaten, abused and gang raped by Umbrella's guards and monsters for
near the entire time he had been on this mission... And if Wesker was
speaking the truth, the Agency had allowed this to happen just because
they were-- *curious*.
Jack shook those thoughts from his head as he turned his attention to
his lover. "So when are they getting rid of you?"
Leon's smile was strained as he looked at his hands twisting in the
sheets. "In three-- maybe four weeks. The doctors-- found the extra--
hormones which made the BOWs--It-- it's corrected now."
Krauser desperately hoped Leon didn't notice him stiffening at his
unasked for confirmation of Wesker's words. He knew it was much too
easy that the Agency doctors could have been told then discovered how
to 'cure' Leon so quickly.
"The Tyrants-- overdosed me on cure all herbs and first aid sprays
though. I need-- to detox and-- heal-- first..."
"Just official sanction to goof off and relax then." Jack gave Leon an
encouraging smile to try and jolly him out of his serious mood.
"They're not going to insist you spend all that time in bed here, are
they?"
Leon shrugged at his words. Jack came closer and took a seat on the bed
near his lover. The man was changed-- scarred... Jack knew he was no
longer the same man he had trained with and was fuck buddies with for
the last few years. As much as he knew Leon would belt him one for
viewing him so, he did think that right now the man was looking very
vulnerable and needy in his hospital scrubs. And Jack could feel a part
within him which just wanted to take the man in his arms and never let
go.
He thought again about Wesker's insinuation. Under no circumstances
would Jack think of ever telling Leon what he knew. Not especially this
soon after his ordeal. In his current state of mind, Jack was sure that
the man would shatter if he found out the Agency had deliberately
placed him in the path of the Umbrella BOWs, knowing he might receive
'special' attention. If it hadn't been for the Agency's 'curiosity'--
"Jack?" He looked up at the timid call to see Leon peering at him
hesitantly. "Would-- you still-- kiss me?"
"What?"
"No one tried to kiss me. I was fucked-- the Umbrella guards-- used
my-- mouth-- but I-- I brushed my teeth and used mouth wash. I--"
Jack had to stop Leon before he broke his heart with his insecure
babbling. "Leon-- you talk too much."
He leaned closer slowly, giving Leon enough time to pull away if he
changed his mind. Jack's hand came up to cup Leon's cheek as he laid a
sweet kiss on his lips. This was very different from their usual
hungry, lust fuelled kisses of the past. But Jack was to his surprise
finding it to be no less satisfying.
The feeling of something wet touching his cheeks made Jack draw back
slightly to find himself looking upon Leon's tear filled eyes. "There
were-- so many-- Jack-- I'm-- sorry-- they-- Do-- Are--"
"Hey." Jack quickly interrupted him, suddenly insightful enough to
guess what his lover was trying to say. "Tell me something, Leon. Are
you still breathing?"
As Jack had intended, the question distracted Leon. "Th-- that's a
silly questio--"
"So give me the obvious answer."
Leon frowned at him, clearly puzzled at where he was leading their
conversation. "Yes-- I'm still breathing."
"That's how long you'll be desirable to me, Leon." Jack took his hands
in his and looked him right in the eye. "As long as you're breathing,
I'll always want you. And nothing will change that."
A bright, watery smile spread over Leon's face. "That's the sappiest
thing I've ever heard, Jack."
"Way to break a mood, sour puss." Jack grinned at him.
A snort of laughter escaped Leon's lips before he could help it. That
was enough to start both of them off. In seconds they were holding each
other and laughing almost hysterically, with Jack moaning theatrically
every now and then for the pain emanating from his bruised ribs.
They well knew that Leon would be undergoing counselling for several
months (or years) to come. But for just those few minutes, life was all
right again.
They had spent the night together in Leon's bed. Nothing strenuous;
Jack let Leon dictate how far they'd go. It didn't surprise him that
the younger man only wanted to cuddle.
All the same, this had to be the first time they'd refrained from sex
and just slept together. But Jack understood. After his horrible
ordeal, Jack was quite sure that Leon wouldn't want to have sex again
for a very long time. Besides, Jack figured he still owed Leon for the
Viagra misadventure of long ago.
Jack looked down at the sleeping man he was cradling protectively in
his arms. He was suddenly aware of how serious it was becoming between
them. They had never used the 'L' word with the other. Neither of them
could without fearing the other laughing in his face. It was still the
same, even after Leon's ordeal.
Hell-- their whole relationship had revolved around sex and-- being
fuck buddies. Yet here Jack was contemplating staying by Leon's side
without using sex to occupy their time together. The notion scared him.
Jack knew that his squad would be moving on in a couple of weeks, and
that it could be another month or more before his path might cross with
Leon's again. If there was a time to leave and take up Wesker's offer,
Jack knew it would have to be then. After all, Wesker had already
warned him that they would be faking his death if he took up the
assignment.
It would give him and Leon a clean break. Jack would go his merry way,
and Leon was strong enough on his own. God forbid that the kid would
depend on anyone. Leon wasn't the type to be clingy. And Jack knew the
little wildcat wouldn't change even after this nightmare mission.
Still, he'd keep a distant eye on him for a couple of weeks just to be
sure.
Maybe-- if Wesker's setup proved to be as good a place as he promised--
and if Jack's feelings hadn't changed-- He'd come back for Leon. When
the time was right...
If the Agency continued to fuck with Leon, Jack was quite sure he'd be
able to persuade him to join them easily. But that was something to
think about in the far off future.
~Owari~
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