Sören walked in to the apartment, wheeling the suitcase that he brought to the supermarket to pack himself during checkout to avoid using bags. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and just as he was taking off his Doc Martens, he heard a door opening. His husband was supposed to be at work right now.
Sören looked up and saw the barrel of a gun pointing at him, carried by a man in a black hoodie and faded jeans, wearing a black ski mask over his face.
Sören swallowed hard, heart hammering in his ears, and put his hands up. He began walking backwards until his ass hit the kitchen sink.
The man with the gun came forward, and at a closer look, Sören recognized green eyes. His heart was still pounding wildly - he might be wrong - and his heart beat even faster as the gun pressed up against his chest.
The man continued holding the gun to his chest - Sören thought about grabbing it away but that was a good way of getting shot if he wasn't careful - and the man's free hand reached out to touch Sören's face. He pulled a lock of dark curls and then he skritched Sören's beard like he was a cat. The man's thumb caressed Sören's full lips. "You're prettier than a girl," the man said.
Sören's lips quirked. It was Anthony's voice. Sören had confessed to gunplay fantasies and they had discussed sometime doing a consensual non-consent roleplaying scene. It was here. Sören took a deep breath - even with knowing his husband was on the other end of that gun and they had agreed to this by surprise weeks ago, the adrenaline was still surging and it was a struggle to find words.
Anthony went on. "You're a faggot, aren't you?"
Sören blinked. He was not used to that word out of Anthony's mouth, they usually called it the "f-slur" if they were talking about someone else using it, since Anthony had been bullied with that word growing up. And yet... something about it here and now was insanely hot. Sören's cock stirred in his jeans.
"I have credit cards," Sören said. "Just... take my credit cards, the cash I have in my wallet, but don't hurt me, please -"
"Are you a faggot?"
Sören tried not to whimper. He bit his lower lip. "Please don't hurt me -"
"Answer the bloody question. Are. You. A. Faggot."
"Yes," Sören said.
"Say it."
"I'm a faggot." Sören's cock leapt and it took him every ounce of his restraint to keep in character and not start grinding against Anthony. Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with me, why is this hot.
"I wasn't coming here to kill you, I was just going to take your money and some of your stuff, but now that I know you're a little fag..." The gun slid up from Sören's chest, up his throat. "Seems like God sent me here to do just that." Anthony and Sören were both atheists.
"I'll do anything you want, just don't kill me. Please." Sören looked Anthony in the eye. "Anything."
Anthony snorted.
Sören lowered his head and took the end of the gun between his lips. Let it slide into his mouth inch by inch, like it was a cock. Then, suddenly, Anthony's thumb hit the safety switch on the gun.
For an instant it felt like Sören couldn't breathe, his mind leaving his body when Anthony pulled the trigger. Nothing happened - the gun wasn't loaded - but Anthony could have killed him, it was the ultimate act of trust in Sören's entire life.
Euphoria washed over Sören, crashing into the adrenaline. He was so deep in subspace now he wanted to cry with worship and awe, but he didn't. Sören began to work his head back and forth, sucking the barrel of the gun. He reached down for the obvious bulge in Anthony's jeans and started rubbing in slow, lazy circles. He smiled around the gun in his mouth as he heard Anthony's breath hitch.
"Mmmm?" Sören let the gun slip from his mouth and licked the barrel up and down, then he put the gun back in his mouth, sucking harder, faster.
Anthony pulled the gun out of Sören's mouth, slapped him with it, and Sören almost climaxed. His balls were tight and heavy to the point of agony. Anthony yanked off his ski mask, revealing his handsome face, then kissed Sören hard before he shoved Sören down on his knees. Sören moaned as Anthony unzipped his jeans and took out his hard cock. He licked his lips as he watched a bead of precum roll down the shaft. He chased it with his tongue and Anthony growled, then let out a grunt of satisfaction as Sören took the cock in his mouth as deep as it could go.
Anthony kept the gun at Sören's temple and the other hand grabbed Sören's hair as he face-fucked him. Sören whined with his mouth full like he was in heat, going out of his mind with lust. Watching the look of lust on Anthony's face, hearing his moans and gasps as he got closer... being dominated like this... Sören had never been so turned on in his life. This is so fucked up, and I love it.
Anthony stepped back, taking his cock away, and Sören let out a whimper of protest, wanting to taste him. But then Anthony jerked off frantically and Sören said, "That's it, shoot me, Daddy."
Anthony laughed as he came all over Sören's face. Sören licked his lips, savoring the salty-tangy-sweet cream. It felt like Anthony had marked his territory and that, too, stoked Sören's lust even hotter.
Anthony pulled Sören up, kissed him deeply, and then they shared a playful, sensual open-mouth kiss, tongues licking, teasing.
Anthony pushed Sören down on the kitchen floor, and went to the cupboard where they kept ingredients like flour, spices... Sören's eyes lit up as Anthony got out the olive oil. Sören took down his jeans and boxer-briefs - his cock was so hard, and completely slick with precum. Anthony took off his own jeans and boxers, then his hoodie and the T-shirt underneath, revealing his hairy chest and pelted arms and legs that made Sören melt with desire.
Anthony straddled him, and poured oil over their cocks before he took both their cocks in his fist, stroking them together. Sören cried out and bucked against him. "Daddy," Sören moaned, writhing. It was so primal to do this right on the kitchen floor, especially after what they'd just done.
"Slut," Anthony said with a smile, before his free hand reached up to touch Sören's face. Sören leaned in and sucked Anthony's fingers and Anthony groaned.
Just before Sören could come, Anthony let go of their cocks, poured more oil over his cock, and with Sören's leg hooked over his shoulder, Anthony took Sören, stretching and filling him.
"DADDY!" Sören bit his lip and whimpered.
Anthony fucked him hard, balls smacking wildly, and Sören reached down to stroke himself, the pleasure on his cock intensified by Anthony's cock hitting that spot inside him over and over. He was a thirsty bottom and Anthony knew it. "I bet your husband likes this," Anthony teased, eyes twinkling.
"You should join us sometime."
Anthony threw back his head and laughed, then he moaned and fucked Sören harder. Sören stroked himself faster. Anthony caressed Sören's chest and stomach and thigh, and when Sören was right there he grabbed Anthony's wrist and their eyes locked.
"Gonna come, Daddy," Sören panted.
"That's it, baby. Show Daddy what a little faggot slut you are -"
"Oh god, Daddy, FUCK!" Sören gave in to one of the most intense orgasms of his life, his cum splashing Anthony in the chest, then his own chest and stomach. Three thrusts later Anthony groaned as he spilled, and he sank down to kiss Sören, then nibbled at Sören's neck with a growl.
"Oh yeah, vore me Daddy," Sören joked.
Anthony facepalmed and howled into Sören's shoulder. "Dammit, Sören..."
They laughed and rubbed noses, and Sören wrapped his arms around him with a deep sigh of contentment. "Holy fucking shit, that was hot," Sören said.
"I want to apologize for being such a bastard -"
"I enjoyed it. It was a game. It was fun." Sören booped Anthony's nose.
Anthony kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "Maybe next time I'll kidnap you and drag you out into the middle of the woods and have my way with you there."
"Mmmmmm." Sören liked that idea. He had an idea of his own. "Maybe you could break into my car and hold me at gunpoint. Make me piss myself before I service you in the car."
"Wow." Anthony's eyes lit up and he laughed delightedly. "I like it." He laughed harder, turning beetroot. "God, I'm a freak."
Sören grinned. "Hi A Freak, I'm Sören..."