On Our Terms

This story was written in response to a beautiful piece of fanart by a TF2 fan named Humon (Gumon on some sites). The art showed Sniper being milked by Heavy and Medic. Enjoy.
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He wasn't sure how it happened, or even how he managed to let it happen, but Sniper scowled at himself, embarrassed for his normally decent sensibilities and angry at himself for falling into their trap.

'It is just a zimple experiment, Herr Sniper. Ve need a volunteer und you vere zer only one zat ve sought vould agree to it.'

Days after being confronted by the psychotic German, Sniper had agreed to it and was given the time and date, plus some restrictions on what he was able to eat the day before the experiment. The usual details given to a patient who was to undergo blood tests, or so Sniper thought.

Tied down immediately after he entered for the appointment and held against his will; fed drugs through a rather large syringe that Medic had sworn were only antibacterial agents. How gullible could a man be? Once the drugs had taken their toll on Sniper's senses, his bonds were released and another presence stepped into the infirmarHe wasn't sure how it happened, or even how he managed to let it happen, but Sniper scowled at himself, embarrassed for his normally decent sensibilities and angry at himself for falling into their trap.y, the deep chuckle of the team's Heavy filling the air.

“Leetle gunman vill help, Doktor?”

“Ja. Now, hold him as ve discussed.”

After being undressed from the waist down and left in only his white undershirt and coloured polo, Sniper was made to sit up as if in a chair and Heavy scooped an arm around his body, allowing him to curl over his arm if need be. The other hand was curled up and under Sniper's left leg, both to keep his legs apart for the experiment and to help restrain him, so that he could not lash out at Medic with his legs, if the drugs wore off unexpectedly.

“Perfect. Hold him firmly but carefully, ja? Ve don't need him being sqveezed do death, do ve?”

Heavy shook his massive head and moved his legs to stand more comfortably, aware that he would be in the same position for quite some time, while Medic performed his odd little tests. The gargantuan Russian was in on the surprise, however, and he grinned with sickly delight as Medic fetched a large syringe made for filling jars and bottles with thick liquids, its open tip already dribbling the opaque goo that the doctor used as a surgical lubricant.

He stepped up to the front of the table where he could face Sniper and carefully parted his buttocks, pressing the tip of the wide syringe inside and with a swift press of the plunger, filled him with the entire contents and then removed it to be set aside. The relaxed nature of Sniper's body caused some to leak from the ring of lax muscle and Heavy returned Medic's grin, when the German turned away to the stand behind him and then back again, a small uncapped bottle in one hand and a pair of much thinner latex gloves covering his hands.

While not entirely unconscious, Sniper groaned when Medic first pressed his finger into the tight hole, his fangs showing as his lips curled back and he hissed softly. It could not have been from pain, as his muscles were sufficiently relaxed and Medic licked his lips excitedly, eager to see the outcome of his perverted little test.

He had first discussed it with Heavy earlier that week, when the larger man was asking about the sharpshooter. He knew the Aussie was a dangerous man without many ties to the outside world other than his parents, but he was also personable and friendly to talk to, so he was suggested as the best man for the job Medic had mentioned.

'I vould like to see how far I can get vis him, arousal-vise. If I can get him to release, zat vould be perfect. I have not collected a zample of his fluids yet und I zink zis vould be an appropriate vay of doing it.'

Heavy had only nodded and as Medic's lover of choice, the burly Russian went along with the job he had been given, gently cuddling the Aussie against his chest as he held him in the oddly comfortable position, keeping him close enough to the far edge of the table, that Medic would not have to struggle to touch him.

Sniper let his eyes fall closed when he felt the twinge of something far from pain register from below, two of Medic's fingers buried deep inside of him, while the doctor's other hand had gently taken up the Aussie's cock and was stroking it with medical precision, the thin latex smooth against him. It pulled occasionally at the hair that covered his groin and balls but he ignored it in favour of the comforting, hazy feeling the drugs had created.

“He is happy, Doktor,” Heavy grunted out, the beefiness of his arm giving the smaller man something to rest against, while his hand was still free to rub soothingly over the Aussie's chest. “He purrs like big cat.”

Medic could hear it too, the gentle murring sound that came from the normally stoic sharpshooter. With the addition of a third finger, he was certain that it would be inevitable that the slimmer man would ejaculate and he anticipated it by moving the small bottle closer to his work space, again taking hold of Sniper's cock and stroking him with more intensity.

The once-tight ring bore down with vicious strength and Medic whispered something in German, no doubt a curse of some sort, finding the tightness rather interesting and wishing it had not been his fingers receiving the delightful squeeze. He continued to stroke the gunman and removed his fingers from the man's ass quickly, the slick hole oozing lubricant onto the stainless steel tabletop while he snatched up the bottle and slipped it over the man's cock, just in time to catch the first tiny dribble and the other, more intense spurts.

There were barely two tablespoons' worth inside the little glass bottle and after Medic removed it to be set aside someplace safe, he scowled at the amount. Surely a man who did not engage in sexual activities with any of the other team members would spend his seed in private, masturbating to some distant memory or a fantasy of a teammate he would rather not touch in real life, but for the amount Sniper gave, he must do it daily, if not multiple times per day.

“Is leetle amount. I think Sniper has boyfriend, Doktor.”

“Nein,” the German answered, turning away and leaving the pair to gather more items he would need.

He returned and once again took his place across the table, his clean hand reaching out to gently caress Sniper's cheek, wiping away the tiny bit of sweat that had appeared over the drugged gunman's brow. Heavy noticed the loving gesture and frowned a little bit, earning a loving smile from the dangerous doctor. They shared a love deeper than a physical one and while Heavy had nothing to fear, he was still a brutish and jealous creature.

The case the German had brought over was flipped open and Heavy stared at its contents over the gunman's shoulder, a knowing smile widening on his already broad face.

“Sniper vill like dis,” he said softly, as if reassuring the drugged Aussie, the beefy hand holding the Sniper across the chest rubbing in a soothing motion.

“Of course he vill like it,” Medic sneered, picking up the first part of his contraption and coating it with surgical lubricant, the slithery goo dripping from the glistening steel to the table top.

Sniper's eyes fluttered a little bit and his mouth dropped open as Medic leaned over to press the bulb-shaped item into the gunman's hole, pushing with a good bit of effort since the lubricant was so unnecessarily slippery. Once the widest part had passed the nearly tearing ring of muscle, the slim body took the rest in greedily, the flanged end nudging comfortably against the opening.

Heavy lifted Sniper's leg a bit more, so the area between his legs could be exposed with less bother to the man's backside, the stainless steel surface already warmed through from his body heat and he hissed when his left cheek touched a cold spot, earning himself a cluck of the tongue from Medic and a slap against the steel flange.

Sniper cringed and moaned unknowingly, his body still filled to the brim with narcotics Medic had injected into him. Even Heavy had expressed concern when they had discussed it days before, but the German had assured him that the dosage was appropriate for a man Sniper's size.

“Zere, zat vas not so bad, vas it?”

Sniper's head lolled back against Heavy's chest and the wide Russian shifted his position so the other man would be comfortable above his waist as well, the back of Sniper's shirt still down over his back so he would not be chafed by Heavy's rough clothing.

Medic picked up a small device with two sets of clip-on prongs; one red and one orange, as if the colours actually meant something. He clipped the red to the flanged end of the steel dildo and clipped the other to the small rod protruding from the device, carefully flicking the green switch and then ramping up the dial below it, starting with a low current to see what the effects would be.

The Aussie immediately moaned out loud, the sound echoing in the enclosed infirmary. Heavy looked surprised, as if he had hurt the man somehow, but the gentle writhing of Sniper's hips was enough of an explanation.

The lower the dose, the less arousal and more frustration the gunman would feel. As Medic ramped the dial up to a higher level, Sniper's body twitched with excitement, the gently arcing steel bulb pressed firmly against his prostate and bumping it with each shift of his hips.

“Look, mein Liebeling,” Medic called the Heavy's attention with a loving appellation, pointing to Sniper's loins. “Zis is vorking vonders, ja?”

Heavy grinned and licked his enormous lips, slightly envious of the skinny Aussie, knowing full-well what the sensations would be. He had enjoyed the German's electro-ejaculation device before and while it left some seriously draining after-effects, it felt incredible while being used upon the body.

“Da, Doktor. Maybe turn it up. It it not enough yet.”

Greedy, Medic bent down towards Sniper's groin and licked up the small bead of ejaculate that had appeared, smacking his lips and giving the very tip a light kiss. Heavy rumbled his disapproval of the loving gestures and frowned, aware that Medic loved only him and was a sucker for the taste of the seed from other men, but he was almost angry at himself for agreeing to the doctor's request for help.

Sniper groaned something that may have been words, but his mouth was dry and his head was muddled from the drugs, leading him to only slur unintelligible vocalizations that could hardly be considered a language of any sort. It became especially apparent as Medic amped up the juice a little more, jerking the dial higher and then backing up with it, repeating the process to create a pulsing formation, teasing and bringing the slimmer man off.

The Aussie's hips jerked as his cock began to dribble the precious fluid a second time, this time in weak little bursts that did not shoot out onto the table, but rather coasted down the underside of his member, gathering for a mere second on his sac, where the first drop fell into the container Medic placed there.

Like a low dish, the container would catch much more than the bottle and he could transfer it over to the bottle afterwards. The more he teased at Sniper's inside, the more semen oozed from him; slow and sluggish, his cock drooled the viscous liquid, the base of it pulsing as if forcing it out with half of the effort it normally required.

Milking, as Medic called it, was a form of both scientific and medical collection of semen samples, and a form of fetish-based torture, usually used by someone on his or her less-than-willing slave. As a close comrade in team-name only, Sniper had been elusive about his medical check-ups and providing samples to Medic for his research, so with a sample the size he could collect this way, Medic would never have to bother the gruff gunman again.

“It is stopping, Doktor,” Heavy groaned out, the small gyrations of his own hips moving the smaller man's form, the movements an obvious indication that he was as aroused by the situation as Medic seemed to be.

The front of the doctor's pants had bulged over the last few minutes and Heavy eyed it hungrily, then looked the German in the eye, silently promising some fun of their own later in the evening.

“Ve vill stop, zen.”

The moment the juice was turned off completely, Sniper growled behind clenched teeth, his fangs glinting from his blush-pink gums. Medic held his breath as the slim Aussie shifted his upper half to the side, draping his left arm over Heavy's forearm, feeling incredibly drained and unsure of why. The drugs had not simply worn off, but with completion, the body's hormonal levels seemed to either dip or rise, causing the fluctuation in mental state.

He blinked and Medic carefully unclipped the device and set it away in its protective case, gently removing the bulb from the spent body as well, but turning away to set it in the sink to be washed before being put away. Heavy still held the shivering Aussie, smiling down at the back of the man's head, feeling an almost caring nature towards the man, as Sniper clung to his arm as if afraid.

The fatigued form sighed quietly, his mind foggy but his body still twitching with release, the smallest of dribbles puddling on the steel table, now that his cock lay limp against his sac. The slippery mess of both semen and lubricant would be cleaned up in time but Medic busied himself with pouring the contents of the dish into the small bottle, so that it could be properly sealed between tests.

Medic walked over to the pair and held the bottle out for Sniper to see, albeit wearily, his tired eyes noticing it but not understanding anything at first. Heavy chuckled softly, feeling the encroaching of Medic's hand as the smaller male slithered it up onto his shoulder.

“Vould you look at zat. It took some time, but you filled it up! Vell done!”

“Leetle Sniper did vell.”

Sniper swallowed audibly, his throat as dry as his mouth, the air in the infirmary cooler than it had been only minutes before and goosebumps had begun to rise on his arms and legs. He longed for his bed but he was so comfortable where he was, his body satisfied, even though it had been treated in such a strange way.

“Bloody Hell...”