The Smuggler finished undoing his pants. He gently grabbed Ratchet's chin and tilted it upward. In his other hand, lay his erect cock. Ratchet bit his cheek hard.
"Suck it." The Smuggler demanded simply.
Ratchet swallowed thickly, he tried to keep his face impassive, but knew fear was still emanating clearly from his entire form. He couldn't look at the organ, even when it was shoved closer to his face.
"I don't have all night." The Smuggler snapped, he pressed the tip against Ratchet's tight unwilling lips. Ratchet suppressed the horrified noise that vibrated in his throat. He tried not to breathe too deeply, the smell of it wafting up his nostrils. Ratchet glanced at it for just a moment, his stomach stirring uneasily. Tightly, he shut his eyes, before gingerly, ever so slowly, opening his mouth. The Smuggler plunged in, immediately forcing himself to the back of his throat. Ratchet's eyes snapped open wide. He gagged, terror stricken, wishing to expel the rancid thing from his mouth.
"Watch your teeth, remember what I said." The Smuggler warned.
Ratchet attempted to calm himself down, to adjust somewhat, but with how nauseous and terrified he was feeling, it was easier said than done. He managed to move his jaw, so his teeth were out of the way. He hated the way his dry lips stuck slightly to the flesh around them. The Smuggler began to thrust, gliding over his tongue and dipping into the back of his throat repeatedly.
"That's it darlin'," he cooed. "Try sucking for me."
Ratchet tried, but it was hard when he was constantly choking and gagging. It had begun to slide more smoothly, but now saliva was beginning to accumulate and dribble down his chin. He was sickened by the wet and disgusting noises that came from his mouth, like a whore sucking and gagging on cock. Ratchet tried to back off, his nausea overwhelming him. He was starting to feel light headed. He could barely breathe. Instead, the Smuggler gripped the back of his head, and forced himself deeply.
"I'm almost there, darlin'. Be a good boy for me." The Smuggler breathed huskily.
The Smuggler forced him into deeper thrusts. Ratchet squirmed in his binds, his hands gripping uselessly at the air. He couldn't breathe! Panic welled up inside him. He was going to die here, suffocated by the dick in his mouth. He had thought about his own death several times before. He'd suffered many near death experiences. He always figured he would be done in by one of his reckless adventures. Most likely at the hands of some villain of the week who was hell bent on destroying the galaxy for the umpteenth time. And now, for all his time as a hero, all his time risking his life and saving people, this was how he was going to go? Trapped in some thief's basement sex dungeon, choking on his cock and semen, literally fucked to death. Tears welled in his eyes from the injustice of it all. For all he had done, for all he had suffered through, for every dumb overzealous act of heroism he'd ever performed, this is how he would go out. The universe wouldn't even grant him a dignified death.
Ratchet's ears were ringing now, the noise of the lewd acts taking place just under his nose, sounding muffled and far away. Darkness was creeping into his vision. This was how he was going to spend his last few cognizant moments, full of fear and disgust. He never even got to say goodbye to Clank and Tal.
Suddenly, something exploded into the back of his throat, and the intrusion was quickly gone. Ratchet heaved, coughing and sputtering, trying to fill his starved lungs back up with air. His senses started to come back to him slowly. He felt the chill of the air on his clammy, naked skin, the hard and cold floor against his knees. He could hear himself panting, his heartbeat ringing out loudly in his ears. He felt something viscous sliding down the back of his throat. He was aware of its taste against his tongue, salty and bitter. He became acutely familiar with what it was.
Ratchet heaved. Finally pushed past his breaking point, his stomach gave up trying to hold its meager contents in. A concoction of bile, saliva and semen splashed on the floor. It clung to the corner of his mouth, long ropes of fluid dripping from his chin. He stared at the mess on the floor, not a single thought in his head, his mind as naked as his body. His whole form trembled in exertion. The Smuggler stepped towards him again and Ratchet dared a look up to his face. As they made eye contact, a smile crept across it. He knew what it meant. This was just the beginning.
Chapter 7 image: i imgur com Pk4VoFv png