As an Assassin, Connor Kenway faced death nearly every day of his short life time. He has been beaten, shot, and stabbed numerous times; but the worst of all was strangulation. At the age of four, he had his first near-death experience, pinned against a tree while Charles Lee squeezed mercilessly down upon his throat, obstructing the flow of air. The second time its with a noose, light and yet heavy around his throat as he was nearly executed by the same man with the Grandmaster's - Connor's very own father - blessing. Both times, he had been spared out of cruel mercy and luck.
He wasn't so fortunate this time around.
The two Templars had anticipated his attack on Fort George. When he had been injured and severely weakened from the siege, they struck together, completely overpowering him. To his surprise and dread, they had not killed him outright. No quick death would suffice for all the trouble he has caused them. To Connor, strangulation was the worst way to die as all he could do was choke and watch helplessly as his life was taken from him. Except, Haytham and Charles have found an entirely new way to strangle the Assassin, slowly and painfully.
Instead of the crushing force of a hand or gravity, Connor found himself choking on his own screams as his body was breached in a way he would never expected. He still manages to struggle, to resist, clenching down tightly around the rigid cock burrowing inside him. Charles laughs cruelly at first, withdraws reluctantly before slamming his hips forward. The brutal entry is not resisted this time, and Connor screams again while Charles moans while nestling himself closer between the assassin's trembling thighs.
It feels as if he's being strangled, even though his throat is bare. The fight has been beaten out of him, Connor still struggles as the pain threatens to overwhelm him and all he can breathe in his the sweat and male musk rolling off Charles' body. He feels sick and tries to lower his head, to hide beneath the white beaked hood
Haytham does not allow it. A strong hand grasps Connor's jaw and forces his head up and tilts to the side. He tenses as lips hungrily ravish his mouth, stealing his breath yet again. The kiss bruises his lips and a questing tongue slips through and mimics the thrusting motion between his legs. One particular sharp thrust causes Connor to howl and thrash against the two men he's trapped between. Lee is a jealous and vindictive bastard.
"Now, Charles," Haytham admonishes softly, dropping his other hand to dig into Connor's hip to keep him still. "I do not want him damaged any further."
"My apologies, Master Kenway," Charles replies breathlessly and slows his pace.
Once Haytham releases his jaw, Connor's head lulls back to upon his father's shoulder so he could stare vacantly up at the ceiling. The air feels heavy and difficult to breathe, harder to resist the set of hands - belonging to either Charles or Haytham, he does not know - sliding up underneath Connor's shirt to map out his chest. He can't help but try to roll his hips in an pointless effort to get away, and Lee moans and begins to quicken his pace.
It isn't long before the older man is at his limit, and shoves in deep one more time before spilling. He grimaces and fights down the nausea of both the liquid heat filling his insides, and Charles' slumped against him, panting heavily into Connor's ear. The Templar is heavy and still sheathed deeply inside.
"Get off..." Connor manages to rasp as his throat feels shredded and raw. For a long moment, he wonders if the man had actually heard him until a low chuckle reverberates against his ear.
"Stubborn boy. Still resisting even now..." Lee leans back and offers Connor one of his wicked smiles, before grasping the Assassin's sides as he pulls out very slowly.
Both the Templars move away, finally releasing Connor who falls back onto the large bed. He would run if he had the strength left. His ears pick up the rustling cloth being undone, and the sickening sound of lips mashing against each other. He keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling, and prays to whatever deity that exists that it will be over soon.
It isn't long before a heavy weight settles upon him, crushing Connor into the mattress, and his father - now undressed - is all he can see. He weakly tries to move his arms, wanting to push the Grandmaster off him, but they are easily captured and hauled up. Lee makes a snort behind him, while binding his hands with the long dark red sash they had removed along with his breeches. He looks away from it, not wanting to see the Assassin symbol, a cruel reminder of his failures.
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I am so sorry Connor ;_; Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, had to write this really late last night
FILL PART 1/?
He wasn't so fortunate this time around.
The two Templars had anticipated his attack on Fort George. When he had been injured and severely weakened from the siege, they struck together, completely overpowering him. To his surprise and dread, they had not killed him outright. No quick death would suffice for all the trouble he has caused them. To Connor, strangulation was the worst way to die as all he could do was choke and watch helplessly as his life was taken from him. Except, Haytham and Charles have found an entirely new way to strangle the Assassin, slowly and painfully.
Instead of the crushing force of a hand or gravity, Connor found himself choking on his own screams as his body was breached in a way he would never expected. He still manages to struggle, to resist, clenching down tightly around the rigid cock burrowing inside him. Charles laughs cruelly at first, withdraws reluctantly before slamming his hips forward. The brutal entry is not resisted this time, and Connor screams again while Charles moans while nestling himself closer between the assassin's trembling thighs.
It feels as if he's being strangled, even though his throat is bare. The fight has been beaten out of him, Connor still struggles as the pain threatens to overwhelm him and all he can breathe in his the sweat and male musk rolling off Charles' body. He feels sick and tries to lower his head, to hide beneath the white beaked hood
Haytham does not allow it. A strong hand grasps Connor's jaw and forces his head up and tilts to the side. He tenses as lips hungrily ravish his mouth, stealing his breath yet again. The kiss bruises his lips and a questing tongue slips through and mimics the thrusting motion between his legs. One particular sharp thrust causes Connor to howl and thrash against the two men he's trapped between. Lee is a jealous and vindictive bastard.
"Now, Charles," Haytham admonishes softly, dropping his other hand to dig into Connor's hip to keep him still. "I do not want him damaged any further."
"My apologies, Master Kenway," Charles replies breathlessly and slows his pace.
Once Haytham releases his jaw, Connor's head lulls back to upon his father's shoulder so he could stare vacantly up at the ceiling. The air feels heavy and difficult to breathe, harder to resist the set of hands - belonging to either Charles or Haytham, he does not know - sliding up underneath Connor's shirt to map out his chest. He can't help but try to roll his hips in an pointless effort to get away, and Lee moans and begins to quicken his pace.
It isn't long before the older man is at his limit, and shoves in deep one more time before spilling. He grimaces and fights down the nausea of both the liquid heat filling his insides, and Charles' slumped against him, panting heavily into Connor's ear. The Templar is heavy and still sheathed deeply inside.
"Get off..." Connor manages to rasp as his throat feels shredded and raw. For a long moment, he wonders if the man had actually heard him until a low chuckle reverberates against his ear.
"Stubborn boy. Still resisting even now..." Lee leans back and offers Connor one of his wicked smiles, before grasping the Assassin's sides as he pulls out very slowly.
Both the Templars move away, finally releasing Connor who falls back onto the large bed. He would run if he had the strength left. His ears pick up the rustling cloth being undone, and the sickening sound of lips mashing against each other. He keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling, and prays to whatever deity that exists that it will be over soon.
It isn't long before a heavy weight settles upon him, crushing Connor into the mattress, and his father - now undressed - is all he can see. He weakly tries to move his arms, wanting to push the Grandmaster off him, but they are easily captured and hauled up. Lee makes a snort behind him, while binding his hands with the long dark red sash they had removed along with his breeches. He looks away from it, not wanting to see the Assassin symbol, a cruel reminder of his failures.
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I am so sorry Connor ;_; Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, had to write this really late last night