“Rather well endowed for a weak artist,” the guard said before running a hand over Leonardo’s cock. He cried out and pushed against the palm touching him
“Ezio,” Leonardo moaned, locking desperate eyes with the assassin. “P-Please.”
The guard behind Ezio laughed heartily.
“The assassino cannot help you, artist,” he exclaimed, threading his fingers through Ezio’s hair and pulling his head back roughly to look at him. “Can you, worthless little assassin?”
He felt anger fuse with the arousal burning in his veins and spat at the guard, tugging at the bindings again. The fingers in his hair disappeared and instead they flew across his face in a hardened slap.
“You should learn how to treat your superiors,” he exclaimed.
“Fuck you,” Ezio hissed. The other guards in the room laughed at his retort, which fueled his anger further. He heard Leonardo panting underneath the ministrations of the guard teasing him. Ezio screwed his eyes shut, refusing to look. He had to help Leonardo. He had to kill the damned guards.
“Look at him,” a voice commanded. Ezio ignored it.
“Look at him,” the voice repeated and Ezio felt something sharp and cold against his neck. He couldn’t be killed. He had to end this. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes and looked to Leonardo. The guard held a small metal ring in his fingers, looking down at the flushed, over-aroused man beneath him.
“This should do the trick.”
With that, the guard pushed the ring over the head of Leonardo’s erection and down to the base. It was small - far too small and Ezio could see how tight it really was on the artist. It made his cock twitch against his thigh and he damned himself for letting the drug affect him.
Leonardo moaned and writhed on the bed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, jerking his hips uselessly into the air as the guard sat back and watched. Ezio couldn’t breathe even though his jaw hung open. The sight of Leonardo was so ridiculously arousing and he was ashamed.
He was snapped back into reality when he felt two fingers wriggling in his mouth and before he had the chance to bite down, they forced themselves into his throat. He gagged for a moment before the fingers disappeared. Ezio blinked furiously through the beading wetness at the corners of his eyes as he watched another guard approach the bed. His fingers were slicked with the assassin’s saliva. The first guard that had been on the bed changed positions, scooting to Leonardo’s side as the other man took his place between the artist’s thighs.
“Cut them,” he said shortly to the other guard.
Ezio panicked when the ropes binding Leonardo’s ankles were cut. His thighs were pushed up and spread quickly and the guards laughed lasciviously.
Versions of Violence (3/?)
“Ezio,” Leonardo moaned, locking desperate eyes with the assassin. “P-Please.”
The guard behind Ezio laughed heartily.
“The assassino cannot help you, artist,” he exclaimed, threading his fingers through Ezio’s hair and pulling his head back roughly to look at him. “Can you, worthless little assassin?”
He felt anger fuse with the arousal burning in his veins and spat at the guard, tugging at the bindings again. The fingers in his hair disappeared and instead they flew across his face in a hardened slap.
“You should learn how to treat your superiors,” he exclaimed.
“Fuck you,” Ezio hissed. The other guards in the room laughed at his retort, which fueled his anger further. He heard Leonardo panting underneath the ministrations of the guard teasing him. Ezio screwed his eyes shut, refusing to look. He had to help Leonardo. He had to kill the damned guards.
“Look at him,” a voice commanded. Ezio ignored it.
“Look at him,” the voice repeated and Ezio felt something sharp and cold against his neck. He couldn’t be killed. He had to end this. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes and looked to Leonardo. The guard held a small metal ring in his fingers, looking down at the flushed, over-aroused man beneath him.
“This should do the trick.”
With that, the guard pushed the ring over the head of Leonardo’s erection and down to the base. It was small - far too small and Ezio could see how tight it really was on the artist. It made his cock twitch against his thigh and he damned himself for letting the drug affect him.
Leonardo moaned and writhed on the bed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, jerking his hips uselessly into the air as the guard sat back and watched. Ezio couldn’t breathe even though his jaw hung open. The sight of Leonardo was so ridiculously arousing and he was ashamed.
He was snapped back into reality when he felt two fingers wriggling in his mouth and before he had the chance to bite down, they forced themselves into his throat. He gagged for a moment before the fingers disappeared. Ezio blinked furiously through the beading wetness at the corners of his eyes as he watched another guard approach the bed. His fingers were slicked with the assassin’s saliva. The first guard that had been on the bed changed positions, scooting to Leonardo’s side as the other man took his place between the artist’s thighs.
“Cut them,” he said shortly to the other guard.
Ezio panicked when the ropes binding Leonardo’s ankles were cut. His thighs were pushed up and spread quickly and the guards laughed lasciviously.