Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first thing Gillion noticed as he came to, was the sharp feeling of cold, damp metal cuffs digging into his sore, noticeably not damp skin. The next thing he noticed was that his feet were barely brushing the ground, explaining the soreness. The pain breached through the cotton filled darkness, slowly dragging him back to his body.

He slowly started blinking his eyes open, head hanging limply from where a collar held his neck in place. He winced further, the sparse lighting filtering into whatever room he was trapped in still too much for him. Still, he managed to think through the fog and pain, and put together that he was in a room under the deck of a ship. In particular, one with restraints dangling him by his wrists, tail, and neck from the ceiling. One that his sensitive nose could definitely smell more than a hint of his own blood in.

Which didn't help too much, given that the haziness of his brain wouldn't allow him to remember where this was, or how he got here. Yet, despite all of this, something deep within him told him that he was safe here, that this was exactly where he was meant to be.

Maybe this was just part of his training?...

In the middle of sorting through his hazy mind, he felt a drop of viscous wetness land on him, distracting him with the unavoidable sensation of how unusually dry his skin was. It felt clammy, and not in a good way.

He tried to lift his head to find where the moisture had come from, only for his vision to swim dangerously, sending a wave of nausea through him. He let out a pained whimper without thinking, only for it to be choked off by the heavy collar on him. He hung there for a few moments, waiting to gain his breath back.

Once his vision returned to him a bit, he immediately took notice of familiar, fiery orange hair blocking it, and followed it up to find it framing the annoyed expression on his co-captain’s face.

“J-Jay?” he rasped out, dizzy and tired. He attempted to move despite the chains, only for his joints to suddenly scream at him, sharp pains shooting all over his body, making bile rise in his throat. He froze in place and held back another whimper, but before he could move any more, Jay darted closer to him, wrapping one hand in his hair to pull his head back and using the other to push her gun to his neck, pressing into his skin just above the collar.

“Don't make a sound,” she hissed into his ear.

Her grip on his tangled hair tightened, tugging it harder and forcing his head further back, choking him with the chain attached to his collar. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He couldn't see her now, but he could feel her dig the gun into the now exposed flesh, pushing the collar down to dig into his collarbone, forcing a wheezy whimper out of him. He went to nod, eyes shut tight and teeth gritted, but her firm grip and the heavy chains restraining held him still. All he could do was hang there, limps spread open and vulnerable. Still, she seemed to understand the sentiment, nodding approvingly.

“Good. Now, you’re going to be a good girl and keep quiet for me. Nod again if you understand.”

As she spoke, she just barely loosened her hold on his hair. He could feel her warm breath on his skin, making it flush. He hoped it was just that making his body feel so hot.

Gillion nervously nodded, badly stifling a pained moan. Jay dug her gun deeper into his neck, but let go of his hair, starting to unlock the chains to his shackles. Gillion shivered with every small movement she made, completely aware of just how vulnerable he was.

She unlocked his arms first, leaving him hanging from his neck, with his legs spread wide open and his tail still flush to his body, attached to his collar. He let out another pained whimper. His arms felt limp and heavy, but he still tried to reach up to his collar, earning him a sharp slap to his thigh in warning.

Jay went to detach the chain around his collar herself, freeing his tail as well. He could feel her warm body next to his shivering one, a small and fleeting comfort in the world of pain he was in. He fell suddenly, and, without her bothering to help, collapsed, landing painfully on his back, legs still spread painfully wide. He whined brokenly, lying limp on the ground as she came over and dragged him up to his knees by his hair. He flinched back, and in an instant, her gun was pressed hard to his temple.

“Hands behind your back, no sudden movements,” she spat, glaring down at his shaking and shivering body.

Gillion slowly and shakily pushed them together, trying to keep still so as to not anger her further. He ignored the way his cloaca was getting warmer, soft pink flush spreading and his tendrils starting to grow interested.

Jay quickly locked the shackles together, giving him no room for movement. She looked him up and down, making Gillion swallow. The look made a rush of memories flood back to him, only making his headache worse. Memories of how Chip had tied him up like this just a few hours ago, dislocating his joints as he teased and fucked him over and over again. Gillion shivered, but was quickly brought back to reality by Jay’s sharp gaze.

Jay scanned over his shaking body, from his still puffy nipples to the burn marks littering his tummy and the dried cum on his thighs, focusing on his exposed cloaca. She smirked and rubbed her boot against it, making him moan in surprise.

She gave a mocking laugh, leaning down in his face and spitting in his open mouth.

“God, you're pathetic. Is this turning you on? Do you like it when I show you your place like this?”

Gillion went to contradict her, but he could only moan as she caught his tentacles, still retracted inside him, with her boot. She pushed up against them, teasing them and sending sharp jolts of pleasure through Gillion’s exhausted body, but made no move to allow them freedom.

“So noisy, I thought I told you to keep quiet? Let’s see if this helps any.”

With no other warning, she pushed the barrel of her gun into his still open mouth, down his throat. Gillion gagged, but was helpless to fight back. He attempted to struggle, but her hold on his hair only tightened as she twisted the gun with a sickeningly sweet smile, nearly making him retch.

“There we go, you’ll be quiet now, won’t you?”

Gillion attempted to answer, to push the gun out of his mouth and shout or beg, but it was useless. She had complete control over him. He thumped his tail helplessly against the floor, but she ignored the plea, smirking.

“Polish that well for me, and I might even let you go,” she mocked, holding his head still as she pushed the gun as deep as it’d go.

Tears welled up in Gillion's eyes and he gagged. He felt her start to withdraw the gun, hopeful that she'd have mercy on him, only for her to shove it back in cruelly, in perfect time with the thrusts of her boot rubbing at Gillion’s cloaca.

Gillion could do nothing but sob and weakly struggle against her, to no avail. The sensations were slowly driving him insane, the pain and pleasure distracting him and keeping him from focusing on reality.

Suddenly, she shoved him on his back, the gun getting pulled out of his throat roughly, making him moan loudly as she broke the almost trance-like state he'd fallen into. She undid the shackles on his ankles while he was busy gasping and dry retching as he attempted to catch his breath.

Jay paid him no mind, instead inspecting the barrel of her gun and tutting.

“You call this polishing?” she sneered, sitting down on a barrel next to Gillion and forcing him up by his hair once again. He limply allowed her to manhandle him like a ragdoll, ending up in her lap, sitting on her knee. His legs were spread wide, and his tail was uncomfortably wedged between her leg and the barrel.

He attempted to move, close his legs and put his tail in a less painful position, but she slapped his thigh and forced them back open, hand running over his tail in a way that made it clear how helpless it’d be if she decided to hurt it.

“Sit still and I won’t have to hurt this, hm? It’d be such a shame if I had to shoot a hole right through it. Or maybe not, I bet we could find some pretty jewelry for it.”

She considered this with a sadistic grin, smiling wider when Gillion whimpered and quickly nodded his head. He went to answer, maybe even beg her for mercy, but he only got her gun down his throat once again. He hesitantly began to take it in his mouth, being encouraged by the growing smirk on her face.

“Go on, and do a better job this time.”

Gillion nodded, whimpering in pain as he wrapped his tongue around the barrel, limp and pliant in her arms. He felt her quickly unbutton her pants behind him, taking her cock out as she kept Gillion still. He quickly gave in, sucking and polishing the gun with single minded focus, too scared to truly fight back.

However, the brush of her dick against his cloaca distracted him soon after, followed shortly by her roughly pushing in, uncaring in how it trapped his tentacles in. He felt them wrap around her dick, making her moan in his ear.

“Chip was right, you’re really made for this, huh?”

She groaned, panting in his ear. He could do nothing but regain his focus and keep eagerly polishing the gun’s barrel as she timed her thrusts with her movements of it, fucking his throat and cloaca at the same time. He was hyper aware of the gun and it sent adrenaline pumping through his body, making him more sensitive as soft, eager moans fell from his lips, and he desperately tried to grind his hips against her.

She kept a hand in his hair, gripping it to hold his head in place, but his body was so sore and limp, and his mind so distracted, that it was unnecessary. He was utterly helpless as she used his body for her own pleasure, fucking deep within him and feeling his trapped tentacles wiggle desperately against her as they tried to slither out. The hand in his hair moved down to cup his breast, playing with his nipples and causing him to leak some milk.

He couldn’t think past the pleasure and adrenaline pumping in his veins, moans spilling from his mouth as his tentacles accompaigned Jay’s cock deep within him, pulsing with the need to grow only to be denied.
Her thrusts soon got rougher, less controlled, and after a few moments, she came deep inside him, rocking his hips on her cock as it pulsed inside him, only to shove him off of her onto the ground when she finished. He fell with a loud thud, moaning desperately as he felt all the pleasure come to a sudden halt.

“Jay- please-”

He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, but Jay seemed to understand. She pushed him onto his back and leaned down, allowing him to finally get a good look at her.

She was in her usual work clothes, damp from where he had been clinging to her. Her hair was sticking to her face and she was panting lightly, cheeks rosy and eyes dark. She looked magnificent on top of him, divine even. It left Gillion breathless.

She wasted no time digging his tentacles out, heedless of her cum covering them, and making him moan out loudly. The position he was in was uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem to care as she simply shoved the gun in, starting to fuck him with it. His tentacles wrapped around her hand, desperately humping against it as he whimpered at the humiliation.

With each thrust, he could feel the handle of the gun pressing against his tentacles, cold metal pressing against all of his most intimate parts and spreading him open. He closed his eyes, unable to focus and letting out an incoherent stream of sounds, moans and whines mixed with broken Primordial pleads for more. Still, Jay heeded them pressing harder and deeper, not caring for the mess he was making of her gun.

He could feel his orgasm building quickly, stomach tightening and tentacles clinging tighter to her wrist, and through his barely cracked eyes, he saw Jay smile.

"You're such a good girl for me, Gill. Go on, let go."

And, helpless to do anything other than follow her orders, he did, nearly passing out from the strength of it. His cloaca pulsed around the unmoving steel, and his tentacles spurted cum, dirtying Jay's hand even more. Finally, he relaxed, laying down and panting loudly to catch his breath.

“T-thank you,” he whimpered out, spent.

She brought her hand to his mouth and he tiredly licked the come off of it, whining softly at the taste. He took a while to clean it all up, but she didn’t seem to mind, petting his hair and murmuring praise under her breath.

Once it was all cleaned, she picked him up, any and all signs of cruelty long gone. She undid the shackles and rubbed his sore wrists.

“Let’s get you cleaned up Gill, you did good,” she whispered, carrying him upstairs with some struggle.