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Chapter Text

"Let's warm you up for the season, eh lad?"

Soap can't help but shiver at the words. He tries to minimise his reaction, to hide his fear. But Price can always tell. Especially when he's already got him kneeling next to his desk, waiting to be debased by the man that for all intents and purposes owns him.

"It's only Christmas eve John, got the whole holidays ahead of us." he sounds excited, like he's got plans. Probably has. Always does. And Soap nods because he's really not got any choice in the matter.

About half an hour later, Soap's resilience breaks and he screams. He's tied up, arms over his head to that fucking hook Price got on the ceiling, his toes barely allowed to touch the ground, to take any of the strain and tied to keep him spread and unable to kick.
That is not what has him screaming. He's been here too often at this point, for this to horrify him. It's usually the things Price decides to do after positioning him like this that'll cause the screams. Like shoving a a bulb of peeled ginger up his arse, carved into a rough plug shape. The burn is immediate and overwhelming. He can feel heat crawl up his rectum and into his guts.

"There's a lad, that's what we like to see."

Soap tries to bite back another pained noise but there is still a pathetic note that escapes him. It makes Price chuckle.

He steps around Soap, notably without removing the still burning piece of produce and terribly, turns his attention to his cock.

It never seems to matter that it's flaccid, if anything that only spurs Price on. Makes him want to prove "that Soap enjoys this" by making him come.

Soap doesn't. Never has. He's not into men. Or into pain. Or into debasing himself like this. But his body does react to stimulation. No matter how much he wishes it didn't.

He trembles as Price grabs him, gives his dick a few strokes that don't really do anything. He's in too much pain right now.

"Look at you," his captain huffs, "Pathetic little thing thinks it can escape me." there is an unhinged smile on his face as he looks Soap in the eyes. "Should know better by now, shouldn't you? Don't need you to be hard to shove something in there." he leans in and kisses Soap's chewed up lips.

Soap wants to wretch, the fake gentleness so revolting it makes his stomach churn.

He's learned not to do it. Learned to take the minimal amount of pain he can get away with and thanl his tormentor after.

Price next stroke peels back his foreskin and leaves the head unguarded. When Soap realises what's about to happen he goes still, not even daring to breathe.

I'm going to get a fucking UTI is the mad thought that dashes through his brain uninvited. Like that is an actual problem at this point.

Without even pretending to get him ready, the captain lines up the second, much thinner piece of ginger with his slit.

"Captain, please, I'll do anything." Soap begs, sounding wretched already.

"Correct Sergeant, you will do anything I want." with a single brutal push the ginger rod slides in. Soap spasms, then howls. "Because I own you."

He's twisting in his bonds, desperately trying to dislodge the ginger. But Price knows what he is doing. Knows his body. It's just slightly to large to come free without anyone pulling. Leaves him actually gagging this time, the pain is slithering up his uthera like a snake. Settling into his balls.

Soap is lost to anything but the pain until he hears the tell tale noise of a phone cameras fake shutter.

"Should hang this up in the office, real piece of art." Price muses, happily presenting a picture of the ginger sticking out of Soap's cock, the surrounding tissue and alarming inflamed red. "Needs a title, something like "Ginger-breed man", don't you think?

"Please." Soap begs again. Not that it ever helps him. But what other options has he got left?"

"Please hang it up? Can arrange that. Get it framed even."

Another shiver wracks Soaps body. Both pain and despair because he would not be surprised to find that picture the next time Price calls him to one of their "appointments".

He lets his head fall and soft sobs escape. Can't help it with the pain and the despair building.

"You're such a whiny faggot." Price complains and Soap just nods. Knows what happens when he doesn't agree is usually more unpleasant than the twist of self loathing in guts.

"I'll make you a deal. Ten with the cane and I'll let you off. How about that?"

Ten with the cane sound like he won't be sitting until after New Years. But it sounds better than remaining like this and feeling his body burn from the inside.

"Please Captain," the words taste like ash and pain, "The cane please."

Price hums, obviously pleased, likes it when Soap begs him to hurt him. The proof bulging out his pants is undeniable.

He trails his fingers feather light over Soaps ass and down his thighs. Marking the skin he's about devastate. It makes Soap clench, involuntarily around the ginger. The pain never settled but now it spikes and he spasms lightly. Flopping helplessly in his bonds Price chuckles, right against his hear. Like a lover whispering sweet nothings. "Figured out the fun part haven't you?"

There is nothing he can say or do to save himself now. He walked into Prices trap like an idiot. Anger wells up at his helplessness but all he can do is try and even out his breathing beforehand. It's hard, he hears Price step away, knows exactly which closet he keeps the thin bamboo cane in. He wants to yell, to smash Prices face in and blow his brains out. Hates feeling reduced to someone so small and pathetic.

But the moment he kills the old man his life goes to shit. That man has connections and friends in places that will make his continued existence a worse hell than this for killing the man he owed.

So he tries his hardest to ignore his shaking limbs and bite his teeth. Try, futile as he knows it is, to deprive Price of the enjoyment of his pain.

There is that ominous woosh sound and a CRACK, the sound exploding a moment before the pain does. His body sizes and he clenches, the ginger in both his holes lighting him up from the inside to match the burning on his arse.

"One, thank you Sir." he chokes, like the well trained dog he is.

CRACK

The second strike hits his thighs, dangerously close to his balls. He's not sure what pain is worse now.

"Two, thank you Sir."

CRACK

"Three, thank you Sir." his voice is several octaves too high, breaking up even with the short sentence.

CRACK

The fourth hit strikes his ass almost over the same place as the third and gives up on his attempt, a scream ripping free as he starts struggling against the unyielding bonds in earnest.

"Four, thank you Sir."

CRACK

His thighs feel white hot, like he's being struck with lightning instead of wood. His dick burns and feels like he's going to piss himself.

"Thank you Sir, five."

There is a displeased grunt at him followed by a CRACK.

"Six, thank you Sir. I'm sorry Sir." the words are starting to slur, tongue bitten raw and his brain desperately looking to clock out.

CRACK

Soap loses control over his bladder. Feels hot piss surge down his burning shaft and then just stop. Blocked by the piece of ginger rammed in there. Instead of relief he feels the burn intensify as his body struggles with backflow where there shouldn't be any. Urine now directly mixed with ginger forced back into his bladder.He almost chokes on his tongue from the feeling of it.

"Seven," he has to force his mouth to move "Thank you Sir."

CRACK

His voice breaks with the scream as the cane glances by his balls. His stomach contracts and tries to bring up anything, but there is only bile. He clenches so hard around the ginger that it cracks a little and fresh juice runs out like liquid flame.

"Eight, thank you Sir." it's whimpered and weak. He hears a muttered "Fuck." as a belt buckle is opened.

CRACK

The hit goes wide, misses his arse and catches his lower back. Maybe if one of his kidneys break Price will leave him alone for a while.

"Nine. Thank you Sir."

CRACK

Price loves saving the worst for last. Making sure Soap cannot look forward to the end of a punishment. The hit crosses several earlier ones and Soap's voice breaks so bad there's not really a sound coming out when he screams. He panics and gulps for a breath, coughing when it goes down wrong. Knows he's too slow even as he tries to force out a sound.

CRACK

"Ten," he whines breathlessly, feeling something inside himself crack as all tension drains from his body, "Thank you Sir."

He presses his lips to the cane as Price holds it on front of his face. Hangs there limply as Price leisurely makes his way back to the closet.

When rough hands run over ruined skin he just whimpers but doesn't try to get away.

"Such a good boy for me Soap." his captains voice is back at his ear and he hates how the praise seeps into his every cell, but there is nothing he can do about it.

"Thank you," he hiccups again, because those seem the only words safe to say.

"You're so welcome. Know what you need, don't I?" Price is rubbing his bulge across the inflamed skin, still in his jeans. But Soap nods.

"Going to get you down now, you're going to be a good boy and suck me off, if you do real well I'll take the ginger out. Okay?"

Soap wants to argue that he already earned his relief. But he bites back the anger that wants to well up. Lets tears flow instead.

"Yes Sir. Want to be good."

Price groans and deftly loosens the knots holding Soap aloft. He crumbles and would have fallen if Prices form hadn't been right there to catch him, gently left him flop to the ground instead of hit it.

The movement agitates the ginger again and Soap realises, mortified, that he won't be able to take the sound out until he is somewhere he can piss.That he is stuck with the pressure that feels so deeply wrong for now. Burning from the tip all through his cock, his balls and his fucking bladder. Feels like someone blew up a balloon and stuck it in there.

His legs come free and Price sits down in his chair. His massive, fat cock finally free from it's prison is drooling. He's waiting for Soap.

Like a king on his throne, expecting his loyal dog at his feet. Soap makes his way, crawling over, each movement spiking more pain. His face distorted when he finally settles in front of Price, tongue stuck out obediently.

He gets the slightest nod and surges forward, gorging himself on the cock in front of him like a starved man.

Chapter Text

They're in Belarus. Just Price and him crammed into a tiny safe house in the middle of nowhere. Tiny means just enough room for two men to move without falling over each other.
Which was already bad enough before the snow started falling last night. It still hasn't stopped. Despite of both of them trying, even together, there is no way out. They're fucking snowed in. Merry bloody Christmas.

The thought hits Soap that at least with only canned food and rations there is no chance of fresh ginger being around. Still feeling sick to the stomach when he remembers last year. It's not that Price doesn't take advantage of him throughout the year, but mostly it's at least normal stuff, like making Soap suck him off or take his cock up the arse. He'll make it hurt too, seems to enjoy seeing Soap cry. But he'll take all that every day over the ginger and the fact that it hurt to piss for days after.

For some reason Christmas is always the worst. Like he's got a point to prove. Or maybe it's the anniversary he enjoys.

Whatever the truth of it, it doesn't really matter. A few days before most of the lads on base leave for Christmas, leaving only the ones on counter terrorism duty behind, the ones that don't have anyone to go home to, that is when Price will always find him. Lean in all collegial and chat with whoever is around about their holiday plans. The kids, the parents, the partners they're going to see. Then he claps Soap on the shoulder and joke how it's going to be basically just the two of them around these parts again. And Soap will smile like his stomach isn't turning. Make a stupid joke back that they've been doing a good job of it for the last few years. Hadn't even burned anything down. And Price will squeeze his shoulder again. Tell him he can't wait. Before he leaves Soap among his squad, having just made sure that no one will think to invite the lonely Scott for an impromptu trip.

Not that many would. But it was a risk Price clearly didn't want to take.

He knew that plenty of the guys thought they were an item anyway. Never said anything because no one wanted to risk getting on Prices bad side. But it was hard to miss how much time Soap spent at his side. And Soap sure as fuck wouldn't tell them they weren't. It is one thing to be thought of as a faggot. Whole 'nother deal to be seen as the captains bitch.

He didn't have any family that wanted him left in the world, didn't need his brothers in arms to lose any respect they might be holding for him as well.

Soap knows he's thinking about all of this because the calm in the safe house is upsetting him. He doesn't feel unsafe because he's still technically a foreign military operator in a country his own is technically not at war with. No, it's the man he is trapped with that makes him feel unsafe. He's never messed with him during a mission when shit could still go wrong. Yet. But that doesn't mean shit. Not this time of the year.

An instinctive shiver runs through him and he's pulling the shitty blankets of the place closer around himself on the thin excuse of a mattress. Just done with stag duty. His time to unwind and relax while Price keeps lookout. He'd sleep better if there was no one keeping watch.

Eventually sleep must have taken him because the next thing Soap knows is that he can't breathe. He flails instinctively only to find his hands tied to the bed frame.

"Price!" he gasps stupidly, wasting precious air.

"Sshh." the man answers directly above him.

It's then when Soap's slow brain makes the connection of the hands around his throat and the man above him. Realises that he is fully naked.

More air escapes and a whine.

"Wouldn't be making so much noise in your case John." his hands tighten a little more "Supply is limited after all."

All Soap can do is look up at him, pleading with wet eyes. The scene only dimly illuminated by the wood stove used to heat it.

"There you are, smart boy." he coos teasingly. Then he starts to move and to his horror, Soap realises he's got his cock lined up with his hole.
Usually Price at least uses lube. But tonight, with where they are and the minimal supplies at their disposal? He can feel him press in almost dry. A weak layer of spit on Prices cock. That really does not make a difference.

Soap has no thoughts left about his diminishing air capacities. Instead howling in pain as the hard dick shoves in. It feels like the skin of his hole is trying to stick to Price, tearing him apart slowly as he ignores Soap's pitiful noises until he's fully sat in him. Soap tries to gasp for air, but the grip on his windpipe is still vice like. Then Price pulls almost all the way out again, leaving him gasping like a fish on land. All that burning skin immediately crying out again. Prices fat cock showing back in and his whole lower body just exploding in agony as his body clenches in a weak attempt to expel the invader.

None of that irritates Price who groans deeply as he builds a rhythm.

Soap has no air left and no strength to fight, can see spots dancing in his vision. The edges moving in.

"Merry Christmas." Price moans in his ear and everything goes dark.

The next rattling breath he draws, Soap regrets immediately. Wracked by instinctive coughs he finds himself clenching down on Prices cock hard. Adding to his own agony. Unable to stop until his breath has somewhat calmed.

"Fuck that feels so good." Price is kissing over his throat now, where he just pressed down "You going all lax on me and then so tight. 's fucking amazing. Do it again."

He weakly shakes his head but the hands are already back.

"Don't be such a pussy Soap, you're clearly enjoying this as well. Wouldn't be so hard about it if you really were straight."

Soap wants to argue that his cock is hard because Price keeps battering his prostate with his cruel pace. That it's all just stimulation. But he doesn't have the air, can already see more spots dancing in his vision.

He always thought he'd see his life flash by when he'd die, but all he got was another round of coughing and crying on Prices cock before the air was gone again.

Wonders if this is the time Price will finally break him. Break his body like he's broken his brain long ago. Must've broken his brain or Soap would have stopped crawling back to him like a kicked puppy long before letting it get to this point.

With no time to breathe Soap goes under almost immediately. Delirious at this point.

Price repeats the pattern, lets him cough and clench and more and more wallow in the misery of his own cock twitching with every breath. Keeping him only half conscious.

It's the fifth or sixth time after he's started to believe he will actually kill him that Price goes still as he coughs weakly and heat is flooding Soaps battered rectum. He hisses in pain, Price seems to enjoy that and fucks through his orgasm with particular vigor. Grasping Soap's throat when he can tell the other man is close, squeezing a final time.

Soap comes with a yelp the moment he can draw breath again. Feeling like he's almost going blind with it.

Price laughs, pulling out while Soap's cock is still weakly spurting on his stomach. Leaving him lying there but leaning over to untie his hands. He presses a kiss to Soap's blue-ish lips.

"Didn't think I'd forget, did you boy?"

No. But he had hoped. Had really known it would end like this. With him feeling upsettingly empty and filthy in a place with no shower or running water.

Just shakes his head and massages his wrists before curling up on himself. Wanting nothing more to roll around in the snow to wash it all off. He's not even sure he can stand after the abuse he just took. Certainly can't hike 5 klicks tomorrow.

To his surprise Price produces the blanket again that he must have discarded beforehand, drapes it over Soap before climbing into the small bed himself, wrapping his body against Soap's in the crude imitation of lovers as his hand comes to rest on his stomach.

It takes maybe two minutes before Soap can hear him snore. Immediately dropped into a righteous sleep. Meanwhile Soap is aching all over, throat hurting with every breath.

He should be scared. Terrified to lie in the same bed as the man who inflicts all this pain on him. But his body has been cramping and clenching in fear so hard he can't find the strength for any more of that. Relaxes despite himself.
Has to admit that it is nice to be held like this. Comforting. Even if it's Price. The illusion of safety beats limping back to his own room in the middle of the night to lick his wounds and face the darkness alone.

Chapter Text

There was a delicious note of terror on the Sergeants face when he first realised he wasn't the captains only pet.

Price had savoured keeping him and Ghost separate little projects. Had enjoyed breaking them in very different ways. Not that either had needed much breaking.

Not Simon with his past, who was so ready to throw himself at the feet of a gentle master for once that it hadn't been any work for Price at all to wrap him around his little finger. The only thing he had to do was keep his voice soothing and let him have a treat now and then and Ghost would work himself into an early grave to please him. To earn more of that affection. Took any punishment so beautifully if the reward was soft forgiveness.
He frayed easier around the holidays, not hard to guess why. So Price had indulged himself with Soap as soon as he got his hands on the young man. Dressed it up as kindness to Simon too and turned it into a beautiful win for himself. One dog adoring him for being so kind, the other to entertain him.

Breaking Soap had been a different affair, although Price figured he could have gone about it the same way if he'd wanted. The lad had no one and nothing. A strictly catholic family up in Glasgow who had long since realised what the man denied to the day and kicked him to the curb the moment they could. Handed him over at sixteen to the army, not a caring if he'd make it out alive.
So all he had really, was his career. Something he threw away the moment he lost his temper at a military police officer. Decked him and locked him in his car.
He would have been returned to his former unit in a heartbeat probably kicked out from there, if Price hadn't had his eye on him. He'd made elaborate plans on how to draw him in that all proved entirely unnecessary. He called in a few favours and promised to get the rambunctious pup under control.
Could have gotten him the same way he had Simon. John MacTavish was obviously starved for affection. Didn't do himself any favours being so hard set on being straight and wondering why he never found a girl he liked. Could do with a father figure too.
But he'd done all that with Simon and frankly just wanted to see what would happen if he led with the whip first and the kindness second.
How Soap would fray differently from Ghost.

And what fun it was indeed. For a while keeping them separate had worked well but now necessity demanded that some of his play sessions had to become family affairs.

Which was why Soap was currently tied up. An extensive rope harness wrapping over his chest, locking his arms to his side and his hands behind his back. His lower legs tied to his thighs, fastened to the harness on his chest so he was forced to keep them spread.

It was a sight to behold. The dark blue rope Price had picked worked beautifully with his eyes and the fading remains of his tan. Displayed like the wrapped gift he was to be on the small dining table that came with the officers quarters. He'd gagged him too. A simple ball gag in dark blue as well. Just a precaution. Had known that the lad would work himself up the moment Ghost came into the picture even if he had gone all pliant while getting tied.

And he'd been right. Soap had squawked when he'd heard the door open. Going from well behaved to half feral. Not that it did him any good. Price had made sure he had no leverage to wiggle in a way that mattered.

Ghost, well behaved dog that he was had come in and kept his eyes focused on his master. Had ignored the mumbled protests of the scott, crossed the room and sunken to his knees in front of Price like he always did when they were alone.

Always had Price hard in seconds seeing the deadly massive man submit to him like that.

To keep with the ritual had done the same thing he always did. Pulled of the mask and balaclava, placing his fist in the blond hair that came to light. Pulling Ghost's head back. Forcing him to expose his face to his captain. Making sure it was understood who held the power. He wasn't a total bastard, this was supposed to be a reward for Ghost so he'd positioned them in a manner that made it impossible for Soap to see anything from where he was lying on the table, still making agitated sounds.

Ghost's sad brown eyes hadn't flickered from his. Like Soap wasn't even in the room. It made Price's cock jump in his too tight jeans.

He had originally planned to sit this out, maybe get some sloppy seconds later. Might still. But he couldn't help the urge to free his aching cock, thrusting into the familiar wet heat of Ghost's mouth a moment later.
Ghost choked, always did. His gag reflex as unrelenting as Prices attempts to train it out of him. But he didn't complain. Balled his fists and let Price fuck his face, hard and messy. No sound coming from him but wet gurgles and slurps. Eyes always on Price even as tears began to run.

It didn't take long. Not with that display and the view he had on Soap going dead silent as more of what was happening dawned on him. Couldn't wait to make him realise the full magnitude of the situation. So he came down Ghost's throat, holding him pressed to his pubes until he was sure the last drop had been milked out of him before pulling his head free.

Simon was beautiful like this. Meant to look like this. Blonde hair messy around Price iron grip. Brown eyes wet with tears that had begun to smudge the eye black. Scared mouth panting, slightly open. Drool running from his face. Eager to please his master. Price handed him back his mask.

He realised neither of them had spoken a word since Ghost had arrived. There was no need.

"Got you a christmas present since you've been so good this year." he rumbled. Ghost didn't react much, still kneeling at his feet, cocking his head slightly like he actually was a dog. The present however grew agitated again. Price could see him hyperventilate, sucking in air. His problem if he passed out. Hell, Ghost might enjoy that.

"Go on boy," he nodded his head in Soaps direction, "All yours for the night. Can do whatever you want but don't break it, alright?"

Ghost looked over for the first time. Licked his lips before pulling the mask over his face again.

"Thank you Sir." he sounded genuinely touched. Just as excited to exert power over a helpless man than Price was.

Soap whimpered at his first proper look at the man. Eyes flicking to Price who had walked over with Ghost because he did not want to miss that initial reaction. Pleading with his eyes, his "please sir's" muffled and distorted by the gag.
He looked terrified. Was shaking. Had Ghost not just sucked him off Price would have been rock hard immediately.

Soap desperately shook his head as Ghost leaned over him. Just looking still. Price slapped Soap's thigh before leaving Ghost to enjoy his present, settling himself on the couch in the room. Might as well get some paper work done.

Which was a thinly veiled excuse for watching the boys get to know each other.

Ghost once he had finished looking ran his hands over the rope work. Enjoying the star shaped harness much like Price had thought he would. After the rope he tenderly started running his hands over the exposed skin.

Soap was still trying to beg his way out of it. But Ghost paid him no mind.

Another thing Price liked about him, he'd caught the drift and was following his lead. Not seeing the person but thing to be played with.

Like with his job Ghost was thorough. Taking his time touching. Soap's begging increased again when he started fondling his cock and balls. Not pulling or slapping, just touching still. When he moved on to pet his fingers over Soap's hole Price cleared his throat, "Lube is in the top drawer if you want some."

Ghost hesitated for a moment then nodded and got it. Clearly remembering he wasn't supposed to break his present. Not that Soap's hole wouldn't heal. It certainly had before. If it didn't put the man out of commission for days after Price would fuck him dry more often. It felt amazing. That hole would cling to him so hot and tight. Made him shiver just thinking about it.

Over on the table Soap was whining as Ghost had apparently zeroed in on his prostate. His cock suddenly hard and leaking. He was still begging. If for release or mercy Price didn't care. It went on for a moment before he seized and came. Ghost carefully scooped up the come, rubbing it all over Soaps chest, massaging it in. Then he went back digging around the man's prostate. Seemed to enjoy pressing the button as often as he could to see what happened.

What happened was Soap sobbing and whining, desperately trying to escape the stimulation. He came. Then came again. His cock didn't even get fully hard any more but Ghost was still enjoying himself. He stopped only when even clear fluid had ceased to run from Soap's cock. No more fluid to rub into gorgeous skin. Soap nothing but a twitching mess. He'd finally stopped begging when Ghost had started leaning over to lick his tears away. Probably realised at that point it wouldn't get him anywhere. Or that Ghost enjoyed it too much.

It picked back up when Ghost freed his cock, pressing it into his hole in one swift move. It was bigger than Prices, more than John was used to taking. Brought some life back into the exhausted man as he was starting to get fucked within an inch of his life. Probably thankful now that Ghost had spend so long working him open.
Ghost was a beast of a man both in size and regards of stamina and Price could appreciate the sight of him ploughing into Soap. Easily holding his hips with his massive hands to keep him from being pushed up the table. He fucked continual small noises out of the Sergeant. Overstimulating him after already wringing him dry.
Ghost came with a grunt. Burying himself deep in Soap, half collapsing on the man. He took his time pulling out and when he did he carefully fingered the leaking come back in before carelessly wiping his hand clean on Soap's face.

He'd be a good influence for Soap Price decided. Bit of enrichment for both of his dogs to play not just with him.

Ghost made the most of the night. Not giving Soap a break, instead studying his body until he could get hard again. Petting, poking, scratching. Finding his weak spots. Started pulling him off as soon as Soap's body made the mistake of hardening even slightly, not letting off until the man was sobbing in pain, prick probably raw.

Fucked him again after when his own started working again. Price eventually pulled the gag out, stuffing his cock down Soap's throat before it could be read as an encouragement to complain. Told Ghost to keep enjoying himself so he did.

Soap was a mess by the time Ghost slowed down. Looked reluctant to leave off of him. Fully aware this wasn't a privilege he could count on being granted again. Didn't know of Prices plans after all.

"Can take it to the bed if you need a nap," Price grunted, making it sound like he was giving Ghost a little leeway and not like he was socialising his dogs, Getting them used to be around each other, "Just take some of the wrapping off if you fall asleep."

Ghost hated sleeping in his bed with him. But it proved to tempting and he picked Soap up like the man weighed nothing.

"Thank you Sir." he mumbled when walking by, ducking his head, letting Price press a kiss to his lips.

When Price finished his paperwork, much more doable task once the boys had stopped hogging his attention, he went to join them in bed.

The picture that greeted him warmed his heart and had his cock stir. Ghost had unwrapped Soap, making sure the man wouldn't lose a limb. Had retied his hands to the bed, with just enough slack to allow for some movement and plenty of blood flow. He was spooning Soap, cock still buried in his hole.

Both of them were wiped out, despite all that, breaths too deep and even to suggest anything else.

It was good to see they got along so well. He couldn't wait to have them both at his feet at the same time. His boys, so different, but they made a perfect set.

Chapter Text

"Stop squirming." a hard slap lands on his thigh, way too close to his cock and Soap whines. It rakes all his willpower not to squirm even more after that slap but the warning was quite clear. It doesn't help that he is less restrained than he usually is, just a set of cuffs holding his hands above his head. Restrained more by the piss poor mood Price is in.

It's the first christmas in a while that Ghost isn't around. Send out on a bullshit recon mission that shouldn't be done alone. It's got both of them nervous. Price worried that his dog is not going to find his way back. Soap unnerved by the prospect of being the only chewing toy around. It's already been bad taking all the punishment for the last week, he doesn't think he'd survive long if this became permanent.
When they're all together Price will split his attention between them. Sure he's using Ghost plenty to hurt John by proxy, but he seems to have that need to establish, again and again that he can do anything he wants to Ghost too. Power himself out at least a little before he turns to Soap.

They're in the communal shower of the gym. Way too public for Soap. Usually would be for Price too. He hopes that means there's no one around to find them and not that the captain has lost his touch over his nerves.
Of all the ways Soap does not want this "relationship" to become public knowledge this situation got to be one of the worst possible. Lying on one of the locker room benches, that he was made to drag in here. Butt arse naked and Prices fingers up said arse.
Hence the squirming. Well that and the fact that the assortment of things Price has laid out have him terrified. Because he's not quite sure what they are for.
The man has been doing shit to him for years and yet he makes the effort every year to surprise him again.

The fingers withdraw from his hole and something cold and hard is pressed in instead. It feels a bit like the nozzle of the douche he reluctantly bought and smuggled onto base years ago. Unwilling to take further punishments for not meeting Prices standards. It's been money well spend in that regard.

Price is hooking up a bag to a shower. Looks like a hot water bottle only transparent. He's filling it. Way too full.

"I've cleaned myself." Soap admits weakly.

"Should fucking hope so," Price grunts, "Or this would turn out even nastier than it probably will."

Something withers in Soap's chest. The hope that the showers had just been an eclectic pick for a location. Should have known they were here for a reason.

The bag is full now. Soap cant 't tell the amount marked on the little notches at the side. Only that the bag is full to the bursting. Water slightly cloudy like some kind of powder is floating around in there. Fuck. Price wanted to put that in him. The little bulb on the douche fit maybe three hundred millilitres. This was bound to be more than a litre and half minimum.

Price hooks it up to a transparent tube.

"Was feeling nice," Price tells him, hungrily eyeing Soap's laid out form, "It's warm water."

Soap really wants to argue about their definitions of nice but Price fiddles with the tube and there is a rush of sensation.
It feels a bit like it does when he is cleaning himself at first. Uncomfortable and weird. But it doesn't stop. There is just a constant rush of fluid into him. He whines, tries to twist away from the feeling. Price open hand meets his balls in a hard slap and he goes limp immediately.

A loud gurgle, his stomach complaining is making Price laugh. Soap feels like the ground should open up about now. It's more noises from then on. Air being forced out as the water reaches deeper and deeper. Sits there heavily as if Soap is containing an entire ocean.

He hisses as a sharp cramp wrecks him. Then more. His body fighting the water going places it's not supposed to be.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Price is standing next to him. Just watching. But his cock his hard. Bulge clearly outlined against his jeans. Soap whines in agreement. Words feeling hard. His brain entirely focused on how empty the bag looks. How full he feels. The next wave of cramps has him cry out. He doesn't feel like he can move much any more. Feels heavy and sluggish. If he looks down his stomach he can see it expand from all the liquid. Taught muscle vanishing under inflated skin and guts.

Finally the bag is empty. The pressure somewhat stabilises. Still agonising. But not increasing.

"Think you can do better than that." Price is patting his belly making him whine again as he presses against the small bump. "Yes. Plenty of room left. Fits at least one more."

"Nooo. Please. Hurts." Soap mewls. Not cognisant enough to realise that constitutes a good reason to keep going for Price. The sound of water filling the bag again makes him sick.

A minute later the pressure is increasing again. Soap groans. He feels so full. The water reaching deeper into him than anything ever has. Demanding space in his abdomen, willing to push anything aside that tries to resist. It just won't stop. Doesn't help that Prices hands have start trailing over the taught flesh. He's moaning. Pressing down to test the give of the flesh. Soap, already wracked by cramps cries out. Shaking his head like it'll do anything to help him.

"Almost there pretty." Price purrs and Soap blinks open tear stained eyes. He's long since learned that the softer the captains words are, the more alarmed he should be. The second bag has almost vanished into him. What was a small bump on his belly now a bulge. His skin is straining, he can see veins straining against it.
He looks like he's a few months pregnant. The thought makes him ill. But he can't shake it. Not with the way Price is still fondling him. Like a proud father petting a baby bump.

"There you are love." he hums at Soap. True to his word, the bag sits empty. All that water stuck in Soap. "I'll pull out the nozzle. Don't even think about spilling anything if you want to keep your balls intact."

Since he does like his balls intact Soap clenches hard. Makes his stomach cramp worse. He's got a moment to adjust as Price seems busy fiddling with something out of sight. Tries to get used to the feeling but he can't. His body urging him to relax and rid himself of all the water.

A camera shutter sound. Yet another humiliation of his for Price's album.

"Alright love, let's get you sitting up."

He's not sure he heard right. Price cannot possibly think he can move with his stomach all bloated. Especially without spilling.

And yet his cuffs are unhooked from the bench and Price grabs him by the shoulder, hoisting him up. The shift of liquid in his guts and the desperate clench do the rest. He topples forward, doubling over with the sharp pain that twists like a knife. The moment the pain lets off and he gets a free breath in Price is urging him to sit, immediately cuffing his hands back behind his back.

"Look a dream like this boy." Price has got his phone back out. Not caring at all for the reproachful looks Soap shoots him as he takes more pictures. Then he's back with his hand on the stomach. Pressing and rubbing. Making Soap groan.

"Think there is still some space." he muses.

"You'll kill me." Soap answers. Sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

"No I won't." Price huffs. Like he knows for certain. Like he's god. Probably thinks he is. He's fiddling with a shower, twisting off the head until he's just holding the hose. Makes Soap scoot closer on the bench. "Open your mouth. And drink if you don't want to drown."

He forces the nozzle of the hose in Soap's mouth before pressing his hand over it. Then he turns on the shower. There is no choice for him but to gulp the water down. More and more until he feels like he'll throw up. He looks at Price pleading. Isn't granted mercy until his gag reflex is actively shaking his entire body. Then finally the flow stops.

Soap is just sick at this point. Feeling full. Bloated.

Price's hands are back on him. Rubbing over the now firm stretch of his inflated stomach. It's so big. The man is panting. Then he hauls Soap up to his feet. Almost causes him to lose control and spill the whole mess. Starts taking more pictures from all angles and then just tosses the phone on the bench. Peels his dick out of his pants and comes at Soap.

Soap who has taken the man dry. Has been split on his and Ghost's cock at the same time shies back for the first time in a long time.
Scared by what he sees in the man's eyes. There's a mad glint in there that's new. His back hits the shower tiles, legs almost giving under him. His fucking stomach feels like it's actively dragging him down its so heavy.

Price is pressing against him. Using his height advantage to rub himself off against Soaps bulge. He's frantic.

"Can't wait to have you look like this every day love. Make you fat with my children. Get your little tits all full too. Make you leak milk for me." he's twisting Soap's nipples, hard, making him whine. The pain on his chest is bad but the pain in his stomach is worse. Especially with Price rubbing against him like this.

"Fuck Ghost is gonna love seeing you like this too. All swollen. Can't even run, just waddle."

The rubbing turns to outright thrusting.

"Can't see your little cock any more, huh lad? Let me help you find it."

"Please don't." Soap whispers. He feels disgusting as it is. He doesn't need to add the shame of getting off to it.

"Hush boy, have to treat you for being so good for me. Letting me see what you'll look like all bred up for me."

Soap stops arguing. Let's his head fall back against the tiles and tries to keep his legs under him. Tries not to concentrate on his dick getting hard. Price knows him too well at this point. Knows just how Soap likes to be touched. Has him hard and leaking in no time.

Bastard takes a step back when he's about to come and picks his phone back up.

"Look at me." it's not a request. Soap looks at him. Doesn't even flinch when the shutters sound again. Catching him swollen, cock leaking against the underside of his bump. Face still blotchy from all his crying. "Ghost is going to love that one."

Soap is sure he will. Fucked out and desperate is generally the state his lieutenant prefers him in.

"Get over, can finish you off." it's not an offer. It's a tease. Making him stumble along uncomfortably. Water sloshing around in him. Feels so fucking unbalanced.

And Soap does as told. Gasps when Price grasps him almost immediately, jerking him off almost violently. His noises of discomfort go ignored as the captain loses himself in humping his stomach. He almost breaks Soap's concentration when he slaps his arse hard. Almost. The gasp spurring Price on but at least Soap is ready for the next hits.

He's losing focus. Pain and pleasure swimming in his head until he can't grasp either. Can only allow them to flow through. He comes, silently sobbing into Prices shoulder when the man hits him again. Feels the liquid sloshing in him as he staggers.

Thankfully Price is not done chasing his own pleasure. Thrusts into his stomach but holds him by the arse to keep him close. It's the only thing that keeps Soap standing.
Price comes with a grunt. All over his stomach. Stares down at it like its a revelation.

There's more photos. Of course there is. Can't let any of his shame pass by undocumented.

When Price is finally done taking those he gives Soap a vicious smirk, one that makes the cramps in his stomach intensify.

"Now for the cleaning up part, right lad?"

Chapter Text

It had never occurred to Soap that all this would end once his service was over. Not by that point. Not after so many years. No way would Price be willing to let his boys go.

Moving into civvy life sparked some mad ideas in him. Thinking he might be able to run and leave it all behind. Should've known from the start that that was a fallacy. Just because he wasn't Price subordinate any more didn't mean the man had any less control over him. Price had made sure he realised that.
Just because they'd left the SAS behind didn't mean things were going to change. Had bent Soap to his will over and over again. Taken his options of a free life from him.
Eventually he'd found himself accepting that the rest of his life was going to look like this, being nothing but a toy to Price. It made it easier to just let himself slip into that mind space where he didn't have to care. If he couldn't change anything, he could just give in. Lose himself in what Price wanted him to become. Didn't mean he was enjoying himself all the time, that certainly wasn't the captains goal. But knowing that there was nothing else for him, he endured.

He'd learned quickly that Ghost was just as much Prices dog as he was. In his own way sure. Whatever they had was quieter, but not necessarily gentler. It just so happened that Ghost was one step up in the pecking order. He'd rebelled against that too originally. Another fire Price had quickly and thoroughly doused.

So maybe even a year ago Soap would have tried to wiggle and move. But now he accepts his fate. Hanging still, suspended from the hooks Price had drilled into the ceiling long before their retirement. He was usually so good about it that he didn't need to be secured on top of the ropes holding him. Wasn't like he'd run any more.

But whatever Price and Ghost had in mind today must be exciting enough to warrant the precaution. Leaving him spread open and immobile.

Yet another Christmas surprise.

So far it had been mild. Ghost working him open on his fingers. Torturing his prostate until he was aching and hard. Then putting a cock ring on him with a mean smile. It was barely not too small. Uncomfortably squeezing him. Almost cutting off too much blood flow to be safe. Allowing Ghost to keep working, not a worry in the world that Soap might come. Or get soft.

Agonising sure. Not the worst Soap's ever had from him though.

The captain himself was sitting in his chair, set up for him to have the perfect look of the scene. Still holding himself like everything here belonged to him. Knowing that it did. Nothing had changed about him except for few more grey hairs. He was smoking a cigar, had a glass of whisky set next to him. Just having a relaxed evening.

Soap moaned as Ghost's thick fingers pet over his prostate again. Three was more than he usually got for preparation, if any. Not that he was about to complain. It felt nice being slowly spread open for once. Even if the amount of lube Ghost was using was a bit excessive. So much of it that it was dripping from Soap's hole, cold and slimy. He felt Ghost withdraw, heard the tube squelching as more lube was added. His hand returned, to Soap's mild surprise. Four fingers pressing in. Ghost's hands, like his cock, were massive. The addition of his pinky was not insubstantial. The stretch was getting to a point that was distinctly uncomfortable. Too full.

Years ago Soap would probably have complained. Whined in the desperate hope he might be shown mercy. Now he whined too. There was no hope though. Nothing but a moan from Ghost in answer before he spread the four fingers buried deep in Soap. Making him groan in discomfort.

"Hurts." he pressed out as Ghost kept repeating the movement.

"Gonna hurt worse in a moment." Ghost promised, his free hand patting his left cheek.

Price snorted in the background.

It went on for a moment, Soap trying his best to relax the muscle, because that was about the only thing he could do to make his own life better at this point. It was hard in the suspended position. He instinctively wanted to keep some tension through his core.

Ghost's hand retreated again. A small reprieve. More squelching. Then it was back. Soap gasped as he realised what was happening. That Ghost had made a cone like shape with his hand and was now trying to press in all five of his fingers. Fuck, he wasn't sure he'd survive that.

The pressure against his hole was consistent. Ghost fucking his hand in as deep as it would go, pressing for some more, retreating.

Small noises of discomfort spilling from Soap's mouth the only accompanying noise to the wet slap of flesh and squelch of lube.

It went on for a while, would have been nice if Ghost acknowledged that the muscle didn't want to give way. That his whole hand had no business in Soap's guts.
Instead with unrelenting focus, he forced the issue. Forced Johnny's rim to stretch and stretch until suddenly, with no warning, his hand slipped in.

It pressed all the air out of Soap's lungs. Warping his scream into an airless exhalation. Like he'd been punched in the gut.

The feeling of it was unreal. He felt spread thin around the intrusion. Split apart. Like he was nothing but a puppet now to serve Ghost's will. And it hurt. Hurt so bad tears just ran down his face. Gasping for shallow breaths. Every muscle in his hole was trying to expel the intruder. Flesh clinging so tight Ghost’s fist Soap thought he could feel every scar.

Ghost groaned, staring down at his hole in awe. Even Price got up from where he'd been sprawled.

"Look at his greedy hole," the captain trailed his finger over Soap's rim, making it jump desperately. Trying to close around Ghost's wrist.

"Spread your hand." Price ordered and Ghost obeyed. Soap made another wheezy noise. He felt every finger separating. Spreading him wide.

"Fuck." Price sounded reverend. His hand tracing over Soap's abdomen. "Get in there further."

Ghost's hand tightens again, moves further. His thickening forearm moving past Soap's rim, ignoring the pained whimpers. Then he spreads his hand again. Feels like he's squishing his guts.

"Can feel his colon. Should probably slow down unless you want me to break his guts already." Ghost sounds way too excited at the prospect.

Price is smiling, "Think it's more fun if we do it slowly, no? Anticipation is worth it. Makes it all the sweeter when his hole falls out down the line."

Soap makes a terrified noise. His head swimming with too much pain to full grasp the meaning of the words. Still trying desperately to draw in shallow breaths. Supplying the air he needed, but it felt like Ghost's hand was taking up the space his lungs needed.

"Look boy" Price voice pierces through the fog and Soap's eyes snap to his and then down to where he is looking. He can see his stomach bulge and move, the loss of muscle over his retirement making it more pronounced. He can feel Ghost's hand moving on the inside in tandem with what he sees. The sight freaks him out. Has him gasp for air, hyperventilating. Price traces over the skin. Moans when his and Ghost's hand line up. Separated only by the skin and tissue of Soap's stomach.

At a slight nod of the captain Ghost starts withdrawing his hand, out to almost the widest point before moving it back in. Not really a thrust. Doesn't need to be with the monumental feeling it still is.

Makes Soap realise why he hadn't been allowed to eat today because he's already feeling sick with the rhythm Ghost is building. With seeing his skin press out every time he slides in deep.

It's certainly working for the two other men. Ghost's hand has joined Price's on his stomach. Moaning at feeling himself through Soap.

"Can't wait to spread him wide enough to jerk myself off in him." he gasps and Price chuckles.

"Love that he can't even go soft on us." the captain starts toying with the almost purple looking head of Soap's cock. Still held stiff by the ring. Quickly leaking more precum over the old, the one he dribbled before there was an entire hand in his stomach. "Has to listen about us wanting to fist his guts out and can't get soft. Even when we talk about him trailing his guts when he crawls through the house."

Soap is sure he is begging at this point but Ghost just hums an agreeing noise. Clearly entranced by what he's doing. Keeps going and going for endless minutes.

Eventually Price bends Ghost over. Keeps his arm at an awkward angle in Soap, making him whimper with every transferred thrust jostling him from the inside.

He finally, finally pulls out once Price is done with him. The hand going out feeling almost as bad as it did going in.

"Fuck Johnny." Ghost groaning, looking at his hole, "Gaping for us, can see right into you."

Soap shudders because he can feel it. Can feel the muscle straining to return to its original shape.

"You can fuck him while he's lose." Price allows and Ghost get's right to work. Only ever allowed to get off when Price allows it too. Moaning delighted about the fact that his cock slides in with no resistance at all.

"Can't even close around me Johnny, huh?" he whispers and Soap just weakly shakes his head. Doesn't trust himself to be able to. Just wants to crawl into his room and hide under a blanket. Forget why he feels so raw all down to his core. Why his cock throbs. Hurting. About the plans.

Instead he hisses when Ghost roughly tugs the cock ring off right before he starts aiming for his prostate in his lose hole.

Makes Soap come of whispers of the plans he's got about fisting him again while he's shaking in fear for the first time in a long time.

"Thinks he likes it Captain." Ghost pants between thrusts, his smile predatory. Price laughs. And Soap whimpers.

Chapter Text

Price has got big plans tonight. He's going to need Soap to make sure he gets what he wants. It's not his favourite idea, to share his boy like that. He's going to have to fill him up with those big enemas again after to get him properly clean. At least that is a consolation prize in his future. One for Ghost too. Ghost struggles even more with the idea, Price knows. Had to threaten him with punishment for the first time in a long while. That took care of it though. The threat being worse than the actual deed, thanks to the men who'd broken Ghost in before Price swooped in to collect. It's rare that he needs to lean on that any more. Usually the threat to deny access to Soap's hole or mouth will have the man bend over backwards.

He was getting the boy ready now, grumbling all the way through probably. But he wouldn't give the surprise away, in that Price could trust.

Soap had already been wary that nothing had happened on christmas eve. Arguing that he didn't need help getting ready, usually something he was left to do on his own. Hadn't realised that Price had already slipped something into his food and drink all day. Needed the boy pliant and a bit stupid later, but that didn't mean he wanted him to slip and crack his head in the shower. That would make him useless. Soap might not knowing about the important meeting Price had today, but that didn't mean he didn't have a role to play. It was the perfect unconventional timing. All the current upper brass were in their cushy homes playing the doting fathers they weren't. The base was wiped empty, Price seeing to it that every last straggler had somewhere to be.

When Ghost delivered Soap to him a few minutes later the boy was unsteady on his feet, looking dazed and confused. And sinful as all hell. A golden collar fastened around his neck from which delicate golden chains fell, connecting to the matching cuffs. The cuffs itself had a second set of chains connecting to a slightly more sturdy one that wound around Soap's perfect waist and was in turn connected to more delicate chains that met another set of cuffs at this ankles. None of this would restrict the man in any way at all, but it did frame him perfectly. Made him look like the whore he was supposed to be tonight. Especially with the fact that Ghost had taken a razor to him and gotten rid off the body hair. An effort that was futile for the day to day, it grew back on alarming rate. But for tonight Soap was mostly hairless. Looking younger and more vulnerable than usual. All oiled up too, to make him shine. And that helpless expression. Now that was something Price would have to treat himself to down the line. Might also have to shave that crotch more often. Soap's soft cock looked delicious without any protection. Made Price want to do things that would let him see the blues and purples of bruises for days to come.

But not today.

"Thank you Ghost, you're dismissed."

The lieutenant looked like he wanted to say something. But his eyes met Price's and he left with a huff. Silent as ever.

"Listen up Soap." he stepped into the other man's space. So close he could whisper in his ear "You will behave tonight. No arguing, only agreeing. You're going to do as you are told and you're going to be polite about it. You do not want to find out what happens if I'm not impressed with you by the end of the night. Is that understood?"

Soap shivered against him. Not so out of it yet that he didn't understand. The full dose would kick in in a few minutes.

"Yes Sir. I'll be good." he whispered.

He clearly regretted that the moment Price led him into the room. Turned to Price with a terrified, heartbroken look on his face. The fact that Ghost had also taken off his stubble made that all the more delicious. He looked so breakable.

Price ignored the look. Kept his hand resting on his lower back, moving him further into the room.

"Gentlemen," he said with a wide smile "So lovely of you to follow my invitation. Please. Drink, eat and enjoy the amenities." with that he gave Soap a healthy slap on the arse, sending him stumbling into the room.

The five men in the room had all been important to the SAS in their time. Not soldiers of course, but commanders. Decision makers. They might not hold their positions any longer, but instead they'd become advisors. The ones whispering into the ears of current commanders. Men whose advise was not easily ignored. Who could cause trouble all the way up to parliament if they felt so inclined. Price had always found that keeping them close was very helpful to insure things kept going the way he wanted them to go. And while they had not been soldiers all of them were still more than fit enough to keep his boy working all night.

Walker, who'd always been the loudest arsehole in any given room laughed "Well I'm in dire need of some amenities." he made a 'come hither' gesture at Soap who looked back at Price. Clearly terrified. He did not find the comfort he was looking for.

"Did you pick a shy one for us Jonathan?" May quipped. The former director already had his cock out in his hand, looking at Soap with undisguised greed.

"Give him a few minutes Charles, he'll warm right up."

The drugs would take care of that. Make Soap susceptible and eager to please. Make him forget about shame. For a little while at least. He'd remember all of it come morning. That was part of the fun for Price. And a good lesson for the boy to be thankful that he only had to serve him and Ghost most of the time. A warning too, that Price could always to this. Rent his holes out to whoever he liked for any advantage it might gain him.

Soap had sunk to his knees, trembling, and started to suck Walker off. He wasn't having a great time. Walker was not a patient man, had his hand in the mohawk immediately, forcing helpless gagging noises from Soap's throat.

It would be a long night for his Sergeant. The men in the room might be older, but they were motivated. Each of them the kind of man to make the most of it. He'd seen the blue pills openly on the small side tables. Next to the pens that would undoubtedly come to mark how much Soap had taken.

Price found his own arm chair, poured himself a whisky and leaned back. They'd talk business once the first round of excitement had been worked out.

They kept chatting amiably while each of them had their way with Soap. Walker had barely marked down his initials on Soap's thigh and added his mark when May grabbed him. Sitting him down on his lap and bouncing him on his cock. Cooing at the desperate looking man, telling him how pretty he looked.
It was some time between that and Grant and Adams sharing Soap in their impatience that the drugs kicked in. Soap turning pliant, his eyes slightly unfocused.

He made the most wonderful noises. Soft gasps and hisses when he got fucked, desperate whiny noises when his throat was full of cock. Little pained cries when he got spanked. Harsher pained cries when Brown and Walker decided to share his slutty hole at the same time.

Whenever Price looked over to where his Sergeant was he saw him getting fucked. Grant seemed especially keen. Stuffing his cock into the man's holes over and over. Brown dragged him around by the delicate chains, this way and that, getting the most out of the get up. Walker seemed to like slapping him around. Pulling him over his lap at some point just to spank him like a naughty school boy until he sobbed.
Adams decided it would be fun to make Soap come. Fully aware that the man was not here of his own volition and enjoying the power. He'd always been like that. Started a new tally mark for orgasms wrung out of Soap. Which obviously sparked a heated competition. Thrusts suddenly aimed at his prostate, ordered to hump legs while he sucked them off. His poor bare cock leaking come, then clear fluid, then nothing, leaving him writhe in agony when another orgasm got wrung from him. Eventually he didn't even get hard any more.
Grant seemed to take joy from making Soap beg, the more tears the better. For his load, for some relief, for a sip of drink. The broken tremor in Soap's voice driving him on.
May was the one Price was most surprised by, for all the violence in his thrusts he handled Soap with gentleness right after, keeping him in his lap to pet him. Placing soft kisses wherever he could reach. Gently cooing at him like he was trying to calm a spooked animal. Made Soap cuddle up with him when the excitement died down in between.

He was holding him still when he was chatting to Price about business, his eyes drifting down to where he kept Soap's head resting on his lap, petting his mohawk "You know if you ever need to get rid of him or get tired Jonathan, I'll gladly take him of your hands."
Price felt a smile form on his face that would tell any reasonable man to run like hell. But he kept his tone pleasant "He's more trouble than this usually. Should see him in the field. Not sure a man of your age needs a pet that spells trouble."

May laughed, but he'd gotten the hint " I'm sure he'd be perfectly pleasant with the right diet. But I can tell when something’s not for sale. I'm just saying, if the day ever comes you give me a call."

"Of course, now about that Francis lad, I'm not sure he's suited to have that much say over the regiment."

By the end of the night Soap was limping heavily. Had to lean on Price to make it back to their barracks. He was a mess of telly marks, bruises and cum. The latter especially, drying all over his skin and mucking up his mohawk. Still pretty out of it but slowly coming back around.

Price dragged him into his lap when they were back in his room, giving him a solid once over.

"Look at you, my good little whore." the man blushed, eyes trying to evade Prices. "None of that, eyes up here, you know what you are." the colour flushed all over intensified. "Worked so hard so your captain could get all he needed. Think it's time you get a reward."

He worked his cock out of his pants, let Soap's sloppy fucked out hole engulf him. Soap dutifully kept his eyes on him as he bounced up and down. Realising that he better work just as hard, if not harder for his captain.

"That's right." Price groaned, leaning back, "Keep going like this and I won't even consider selling you to May."

Chapter Text

It started innocently enough. With all the changes to their routines post retirement the little pills appearing on his night stand with handwritten instructions on how to take them weren't the strangest thing. Soap had expected something that would make him go all cross eyed and stupid again. A state Price undeniably loved him in. Might want to keep him in permanently, now that Soap was a broken soldier with a knee that couldn't carry him into danger any more. Now that he didn't need to be anything but a toy. But nothing of the sort had happened. More pills appeared. More nothing. It made Soap uneasy. There had to be a catch. Maybe Price just wanted him to take pills daily so he couldn't expect when they did anything? He got no answers when he asked. Not from Price. Not from Ghost. But he caught the lieutenant watching from across their shared room every morning and every night. Making note that he dutifully took them.

The next thing that changed was that his nipples became the target of an unusual amount of attention.

It seemed like he couldn't go a day any more without them being sucked on, massaged, spanked, twisted or pulled. Soon enough they turned into two permanent sore spots on his chest. Seemed to intrigue both of his tormentors. And triggered the next thing that should have tipped Soap off.

The small pumps got stuck on his chest whenever he was getting fucked now. Drawing blood into the already sore tissue. Left his nipples engorged and inflamed and a perfect target for his tormentors other administrations. But he thought it was just that, just Price and Ghost enjoying making him hurt more.

Finally a few days before Christmas the surprise came in.

Soap woke up with an aching chest. So far so normal. At this point his pecs, not just nipples had become puffy and tender. It had been getting worse for days. But asking for a break would have been asking to get them caned.

The thin shirts he was given to wear were a permanent torture. Still better than a cane. Or the electrodes. Or the paddle. The knife might actually be nice though. Drain some of the blood. Make his chest ache less.

Soap shakes his head, takes his pills and goes about his morning. Shower, working himself open with some lube just in case, protein shake with all the fancy supplements Price has gotten into post retirement. But the ache won't let off. Grows worse if anything. He finds himself constantly trying to soothe the tissue. Fondling his own tits as Price comments with a joke.

Its the umpteenth time he's doing that, mindlessly trying for a bit of comfort when his hand comes away wet and sticky. It takes a moment for him to process, he's just staring at his hand flabbergasted at first.

Of course Ghost spots it. Fucker is always lurking.

"Something the matter Johnny?"

Soap isn't quick enough to deny anything. So fucking puzzled still. All the pieces are actually falling into place right now. The stimulation, the pills. Hell the fucking diet he'd been on recently. And Price's words echoing in his brain "Can't wait to have you look like this every day love. Make you fat with my children. Get your little tits all full too. Make you leak milk for me."

Soap had remembered those words for years. Had hoped all throughout that it had just been dirty talk. Price getting off to some deprived fantasy of his. He should have known better. Nothing stopping the captain now, to twist Soap's body as he had his mind.

As soon as Ghost knows, Price knows. And as soon as Price knows Soap is fucked. Literally and figuratively.

Price has him tied over the large kitchen table. Pillow stuck under his back, forcing him in an arch that has his tits sticking out. Frames everything Soap sees below his chest with his engorged pecs and his nipples leaking white.

"Told you we'd get your little tits to make milk for me." the captain is pulling and twisting on them, encouraging the trickle to become a flow. "Gonna get them full and heavy. Make you wear little slutty shirts that have them sticking out. A walking refreshment."

He thrusts into Soap's hole, no preparation but the one he'd done himself this morning. It hurts. Has him cry out body bucking against Price. Trying to dislodge him. It's an instinctive but futile effort.

"Hush you. Don't act like you don't want this. Been so good about taking your pills. Must've been impatient."

"No." Soap knows it's no use, but he can't help himself. Trying to beg for this to stop. "Please. Please Captain I don't want this. I don't want this." his voice is weak, he's already crying. Much sooner than he'd usually be at this point. Can't get over the pure horror of his body being twisted like this.

Price laughs, hard and cold. "Hear that Ghost. Says he doesn't want it while his little prick is firming up before my very eyes." Ghost chuckles too, still sitting in the corner Price had ordered him to. Naked and aroused but unmoving.

"You were always so worried about being gay MacTavish, you'd think you'd be relieved I'm turning you into my personal bitch. Makes this a straight relationship right?" he slaps Soap's left pec hard. Has Soap clenching down on his cock, the impact to the oversensitive flesh unexpected.

"No, please. I'm not a girl."

He hates this. Hates how he is being twisted and turned at the man's will. How his body obliged Prices wishes so easily. Turning against him.

"Damn right you're not a girl. Girls aren't pathetic like you." Price tugs on his cock, making Soap buck helplessly into his hand while getting degraded. "You're a pathetic little faggot bitch. Crying about how you don't like men while spraying milk and cum all over the place."

Theres more milk flowing freely, proving Prices words true. The man's thrusts are coming harder now and he bends over Soap, sucking his nipple into his mouth with a groan. Greedily drinking him down.

To Soap's absolute horror his hips stutter and he comes on the spot. Blind sided by the weeks long conditioning to suction and pleasure and the actual relief of the pressure in his tit easing. Price pops his mouth of, the sound damning.

"Oh you love being just a leaky little thing for me, don't you?" he ignores the weak shake of Soap's head. "Going to breed you full, give you pups so you can always have someone suck on your little tits."

Ghost groans in the corner and through the tears in his eyes Soap can see the man's cock twitch where he sits. Not allowed to touch himself.

"Wasn't just you who got a few new pills, made sure we'd be up to par, making enough spunk to get you full and leaking. To make sure it takes. Poor Ghostie's not allowed to come anywhere but in your little cunt any more, isn't that right?"

"Yes Sir." that gravelly voice is on edge, he sounds almost rabid.

"Get's to fuck you whenever he needs to now. So you always have a fresh load in you."

Another groan from Ghost, now he sounds like he's close to tears "Thank you Sir."

"Crawl over boy, I'll show you how to do it right."

Price stills his hips momentarily waiting until Ghost is kneeling at his feet. Big brown eyes looking up full of adoration. Like every humiliation Price bestows on him is a gift.

Then he starts fucking Soap again, his pace ruthless. Forcing little "ah's" to escape him. He's so overstimulated he can barely see the scene unfolding in front of him. His helpless cock twitching against his belly.

"Gotta fuck your bitch hard, need to get all the way in there deep as you can."

Ghost nods, panting but attentive.

"Gotta keep stimulating the nipples as well," Price twists one to make his point and Soap shouts "Will make them produce even more milk for us." he stops twisting just to watch the slow flow of liquid, "'s so pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes Sir, can't wait to taste it." Ghost agrees.

Price is grinding deep into Soap now, hitting all the spots that make his cock stay hard and twitching.

"Fun thing is, once the body knows how to lactate it never forgets." Soap mewls as Price zeroes in on his prostate "Even if we grow bored, all it'll take is a week or two of feeding him right and he'll be right back to this. Always ready to give us milk." he's talking at Ghost but looking at Soap. Making sure the words sink in. That he has been changed. Irrevocably. Soap's dick is straining. He doesn't want to come to this.

"Now few more things," Price pants as he speeds up again "First, it's important he comes when you fuck your loads into him, 's gonna help it take."

Ghost nods again and Soap makes a keening noise, trying not to come to being defiled like this, but Price keeps mercilessly hitting his prostate. "Come on you leaky little thing," he purrs, "Might help to share some milk with him." he muses, sucking Soap's nipple down again, only to force a deep kiss on Soap. It is sweet and creamy and horrible. But no matter how sick he feels, his body doesn't get the notice, keeps writhing under the attention until he comes with a whimper that Price swallows right down. Thrusting into him hard, again and again until he collapses, spilling deep into Soap's hole.

"Milk seems to work really well Sir."

Price chuckles "Not surprised. You'll see, it's that good." he carefully pats Soap's lower abdomen "Now you can't just pull out, like you normally would. Gotta leave it a bit. And when you do, make sure you push the spill right back in."

His hand wanders down to Soap's cock again, just mindlessly petting it. Ignoring Soap's unhappy noises. He waits for some minutes before carefully pulling out and fingering his come back in.

"Only wash him out once in the morning, want to keep it in long as possible. Best to plug him up after use."

Ghost nods sagely "Have one prepared Sir."

"Good boy planning ahead." Price pets through the blond curls like Ghost is an actual dog and the massive man leans into the touch.

"You can have fun now, just remember what I told you. And get the pumps on him when you're done. Want some of his milk for my tea later."

"Of course Sir. Thank you." Ghost mutters, but his eyes are already on Soap. He rises from his knees in a fluid motion. Staring at him like he did all those years ago when Soap had been his christmas present. Slightly unbelieving.

"Ghost please," Soap tries weakly but Ghost doesn't listen, is thumbing Soap's nipple. The right one that Price had mostly left ignored. Groans when more milk trickles out. Then before Soap can try to beg him again he lines up his cock and bottoms out in one brutal thrust. Driving all the air from Soap's lungs, leaving him gasping. He folds over him and bites down hard on his pec.

"Fuck." Soap is hissing. Feels like he got punched in the gut only to have someone double down on fresh wound. The pain is dull an aching. Echoing from his arse up to his chest. His entire abdomen just pain. Ghost is sucking like he's intent to create a vacuum. Moaning around mouthfuls of milk. Rutting into him like the dog Price calls him.

It makes Soap feel like a slab of meat. Makes his cock twitch in desperation too. Weak and overstimulated, but enough for Ghost to notice and slide a hand to it.

When he leaves of his tits, after what feels like hours his eyes are glazed over. Looks drunk like Soap is leaking bourbon not milk.

"Best thing I've ever tasted Johnny. Such a perfect thing you are."

He picks up his pace fucking him rougher, slapping the tit he just sucked on only to grab Soap's cock with the milk covered hand, creating a smooth wet glide that Soap is helpless against.

Ghost is back to sucking him dry, toying with his nipple, soft bites and tongue flicks tingling right down into the heat that is pooling in Soap's guts.

"Feels good puppy, doesn't it?" Ghost croons, mouth still against his tit. Fucking him deep and unrelenting. Letting Soap fuck his overstimulated cock into his hand.

It does. It feels amazing. His nipples are so sensitive, the one being licked by Ghost a sharp contrast to the one that’s left unattended, standing stiff as a trickle of milk cools on it.
He feels full and owned and no matter how much his brain is screaming that feeling explodes into heat in his stomach as his third orgasm is forced out of him. The weak spurt of his overstimulated cock is pathetic compared to the leaking of his tits. The climax a whole body effort.

Ghost shouts in surprise as he is being clenched down on viciously as Soap shakes and continues shaking. Almost looking like he's possessed as his orgasm wrecks through him. He fucks him through it with a few more rough thrusts before he's swept along himself. Coming deep into Soap, who swears he can feel the massive load settle in him.

They're both panting for a moment. Soap keeping his eyes shut so he does not have to confront those brown eyes that see right through him.

Instead of calling him on it, Ghost collects some milk on his thumb, spreads it over Soap's lips.

"Did so well for me Johnny." he sighs. Sounding slightly out of it as well. But the affection in his voice is genuine. Always is, which makes it worse. That this is something that could have been different. Pure. If it wasn't for Price. But it's not. And Ghost will break his spine if Price so much as thinks it. Soap had seen him do it to some poor bastard they interrogated once. Snapped it like a twig and tossed the corpse in the corner to kneel at Price's feet.

A caricature of a man much like Soap. Even if his mind is more bent than his body.

He knows he's crying. Thinking about his body again. Still horrified that they managed to coax his anatomy to such change without him noticing.

Ghost pulls out and he can feel cum run down his crack and being thumbed back in. Ghost cursing as he gets up to fetch the plug. Leaving Soap on the table. Leaking from his ass and his tits. His cock in a cooling pool of his own cum. A leaky little faggot bitch just like Price had said.

It's that moment, when Ghost stuffs his and Prices cum back into him followed by a plug, that Soap realises something. Over the nerve grinding hum of the pumps milking him, filling with milk he was forced to make so Price can have his tea. Stimulating his nipples maddeningly.

He needs to run. Needs to flee or die trying. If he stays this will be his life and Price will twist him until he's as addicted to him as Ghost is. Until he'll do everything, take everything.

Might even be too late already. He's got no idea what his life is supposed to be without Price telling him what to do like he has for the past fifteen years.
But he has to at least try and soon.

It's that or admitting that the heat in his stomach at the treatment he gets is not just the burn of humiliation any more.

Chapter Text

For once the regiments base is aloud with boisterous laughter over Christmas. There'd been a scare, a boat carrying who knows what entering British waters headed straight for London. A problem the SAS and SBS had dealt with jointly and swiftly. But feathers were ruffled way up the totem pole, way higher than even Price could reach on short notice. It was insisted on to keep at least one of the squadrons around. Ready to jump into action should another threat present itself if the back of the first.

It was nice having people around. Even if most everyone was a bit grumpy about it. So Soap tried not to be obvious about the fact that he was soaking up the company like a dehydrated house plant. Felt like Christmas had actually come early this year, allowing him to spend time with people other than Price between the years.

He should have realised it couldn't last. That Price wouldn't let it last.

He was sitting in a group, just shooting the shit like soldiers did when the captain came by. Doing his little ritual of acting sociable. The fucking bullshit number that officers liked to do. Pretending not all enlisted had started laughing a little more stilted the moment he'd entered. Asked about children and partners and parents. About plans to catch up in the new year. Making general chit chat and buttering it up with a little praise about the recent mission gone well. Not acknowledging Soap past a curt "Soap." paired with a nod until he was done. And then all casual like he'd just remembered something on his way out he turned.

"Oh Soap, dropped your medicine off in your room. Make sure you take it on time."

His stomach dropped into ice. His smile almost faltering as he did his best to casually roll his eyes and chide Price for being a mother hen. Words tasting like ash as he lied through his teeth. Heart racing as he laughed off the jabs from his comrades about the special treatment he was getting. Making up a story about an injury gotten a few weeks earlier that kept bothering him. Trying to ignore the panic seizing in his stomach.

It was a tight rope walk between staying just long enough to make it seem natural and not making Price wait too long and making him angry.

He managed, he hoped, bowing out with a fake smile and a bad joke.

Every step he took towards his room had his heart beat harder, climbing into his throat. Blood rushing in his ears. The room was locked still. Meaning Price had a key. Something that really shouldn't surprise him. That rationally he should have expected. Still made him want to throw up.

On his desk sat an innocuous looking little bag. Containing a pack of pills, an unlabelled bottle and a neatly written note.

Soap read the note and felt bile rise again.

You're expected at 22:00 in front of my room every night. Clean. Don't be seen unless you want your little secret out.
2 pills with the drink. Will take 10 minutes to kick in.

He grabbed his shower kit and headed to the showers. Took a brief detour by the toilets. Knowing that if he felt that sick already it was better to let his body do what it had to do. Didn't need to choke on his own vomit if Price had gotten the dose wrong.

He brushed his teeth, then showered, making extra sure no one else was by before getting out his "special cleaning kit". It made his skin crawl every time since Price had filled him up to bursting with the enemas. Still remembered the sloshing noises and the cramping. The feeling of Price humping him and his boot pressing down unrelenting when he'd gone down from the cramps after. Forcing the water out of him and making him vomit up more. Ignoring the mess and making Soap clean it all later. Still naked and cold.

He tried his hardest not to remember. To get this with over with quickly and clinically. Which only meant he found himself back in his room staring at the pills sooner. He'd redressed, just joggers and a light hoodie, knowing Price might well cut it off of him. Now he was just staring at the pills. He knew Price enjoyed making him do this to himself. Deliver himself on a silver platter. Like Price had delivered him last year to those creepy old men. Probably a deliberate call back too. A reminder that he didn't need to slip anything in Soap's food. That he held the power to make him willingly drug himself. For nothing but Price's entertainment. At least he hoped it was just that.

~~~~

The knock sounds the moment the clock strikes ten. Just like Price knew it would. Opening the door he finds Soap, bit unsteady on his feet already, eyes drooping.
Manoeuvrers him to the bed immediately, before he has to deal with dead weight.

Soap blinks up at him slowly. The drugs dragging him down hard.

Price can't help himself, pets his cheek mockingly "Sleep tight John. Sure you don't mind me having my fun in the mean time, do you?"

Soap managed to furrow his brow and look irritated, he mumbles something that isn't really words but manages to convey his dislike of the situation. "Hate you." maybe. But his breaths are evening out even through all that and the furrow goes smooth soon enough.

He's going to be out cold for the night. Even if Price is a bit rough and wakes him, he's unlikely to remember it.

Price had considered giving him the same drug he'd given him last year. And he will use that one down the line for sure. But for now the idea of having something new from him is more intruiging. Something no one else ever had.
Something that Soap never endured.

It might not be as flashy as his usual christmas gifts to himself, but the crawling base makes flashy impractical. And he's sure he'll have his fun. If with nothing else then with the look of terror when Soap wakes up to find his body violated and no memory of the deed. Might think it's a mercy first, but Price has twelve days to prove him wrong.

So there is no rush. He get's to enjoy this, draw it out. Maybe he'll invited Ghost over one of these nights. He's bound to enjoy Soap like this too.
But tonight is about him.

He wastes no time undressing him. Smart boy hadn't put on anything more than he needed to keep his decency. Knowing exactly what lay in store for him and so well trained by now. Would be horrified if Price told him that, but it's true.
Once he's wrestled with the uncooperative body and gotten him naked he takes a moment just to stare and enjoy.

Soap is a beautiful man, that fading tan on his skin. The coarse hair all over his body. He's toned more than Price or Ghost, muscle clearly visible even when he's relaxed like this. Those lips, always taunting Price, even if they're rather thin. Simon's are fuller.

The scars speckled across his skin, some his own handiwork. Countless cigars put out on him ever since that second christmas. Loves every single one of the marks. Branding him as Price's property until he can risk to put his name on him. And he will. Once they're all out of here and no one is looking out for poor Johnny any more he'll take a branding iron to his thigh and a tattoo gun over where his womb should be. Make sure he'll never be able to escape the knowledge that he's owned.

The thought has him hard and he roughly drags Soaps sleeping form until he's the edge of the bed. Roots around in his mouth for some spit and smears it over his own cock. Suddenly needs to be in the man immediately. Doesn't care if he prepared himself or not, he just pushes in and folds his knees to his shoulders in the same move. The slide is just easy enough to betray that Soap thought ahead, but still incredibly tight. Smooth, with the fact that Soap's passed out and can't clench down to try and force him out. His lax body just taking him. Like it should. He bottoms out in that sinful heat. And for a moment Soap's eyes flutter open, just a slither of unfocused blue.
His body trying to wake up to react, but unable to withstand the pull of the drugs. Makes the heat in his groin spark again, the thought that even now Soap is trying to fight. Doomed to lose. Like he was from the start.

"God boy, the things I'll do to you." he pants, right into the slack face, still focused on the eyes that haven't properly closed again.
Sparks the thought in him what it would be like too keep him like this for weeks on end. Might do that when he moves them out of here. Keep him under and with no real bearing when he wakes back up. Steal him from his life one final time. Wonders what he can get away with in this state. Might get his tits to leak like he plans while the man is out. Although forcing that on him fully aware is also tempting.

His hips stutter and he stills. Unwilling to go over the edge just yet. Grabs Soap's own half hard cock instead and lets his thumb glide over the wet slit.

For a man who didn't consider himself gay he certainly reacted eagerly to another man's touch and a cock in his arse. He wonders if that will ever come to a crashing end. Thought it had that first time he'd seen the panicked spark after undeniable enjoyment. But instead Soap had doubled down. Blamed his body reacting on stimulus.

He's certainly hard and leaking now, just from Price toying with his cock head a little. Is muttering unintelligible in his zoned out state. Whining a bit as he's want to do. Not that Price minds. It's such a pretty noise. He'll never grow tired of coaxing it out of him.

His arousal is in check enough again that he can allow himself slow grinds in and out. He picks up his phone, turns on the camera and makes some memories. Each shot turns to art with Soap's body in it. no matter Price's lack of craft. He looks almost dead in them. The slight twitch and roll of his unfocused eyes stilled. Like Price had just snuffed the life out of him, making sure his body is owned even in death.

That's a bit much even for him. Robs him of all the reactions he so craves. He'll tear the man apart if he has to. But he's to weak to kill him. Might if his own end comes one day. Thinks it's only appropriate he gets to take his concubine to the grave. He's sure Ghost would be good about it. Bury them together so Soap can't escape him even in death and then blow his on brains out so he falls into the grave right with them.

The thought of Ghost sparks a mean idea and he sends one of the pictures to the man. No redeeming context.

Knows Ghost is stuck on another base for a few days longer and can't come to check. He might let him stew until he's home and reward him by letting him take Soap for the night. Here of course, where he can watch. Almost enjoying Ghost fucking Soap as much as he does enjoy doing it himself.
Might have to forbid Soap from texting him back, too just to sell the lie.

His phone immediately pings, just a "Sir?" from Ghost. The man trying to stay calm first. He'll fray soon enough. Especially with christmas that close around the corner.

Instead of answering he mutes the chat and gets back to the camera, can tell his little thrusts have Soap on the edge and he can't just treat one of his boys to some material. So he makes sure to keep the camera going as he speeds up.

"Listen to you whine," he groans "So responsive even in your sleep. Not even touching you and yet." he thrusts, hard once, knows just how at this point and pants as Soap comes whining in his sleep, cock jumping on his stomach, spilling all over his own chest. "Must be good if you're coming untouched." he muses, letting the camera run as he scoops up the cum and wipes his hand on Soap's face while he's riding out the rhythmic clench of the man's orgasm. Ends filming on a good shot of Soap's face covered in his own spunk, drying there while he's being rocked by increasingly hard thrusts. He's going to make him watch that. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year when he's tried forgetting about it. Might tie him up and force him to watch a whole collection while he and Ghost wring him dry.

The ideas are piling in Prices head, spurring him on. Might put it on loop when he fucks Soap tomorrow when he's out. Mess with his unconscious even more.
Might make a whole collection of this. All the ways he wants to abuse the rag doll that Soap makes himself for him each night now. Wants to see if he can hit him hard enough to make him him wake. If he can overstimulate him to the point of pissing himself. Maybe have a fun little revival party, tying him up for Ghost just the way he had been. Stuff him with some ginger. Forbid him to prepare himself and just fuck him raw. Use his mouth as an ashtray even while he's out. See if he can't force his cock down his throat until he turns blue. Drawing out just in time and watch the man realise on video how close he was to never waking up again. Doesn't have to know about Price's soft spot. Can wallow in the fact that he'll take the same pills again the next night and hand himself over. Fear looks good on him after all.
Maybe he'll follow through with his plan from last year and shave him so his dick looks naked and helpless again, beat it up a little. Make every move even more agony.

He stares down at Soap's helpless form. So vulnerable. Twitching slightly now that his overstimulated hole is getting pounded hard with how much Price has worked himself up over his fantasies. All it takes is a little choked noise of complaint and he's coming. Burying himself deep in Soap's ass.

If this were a normal christmas he'd make himself go again and again. But this year he's got time. Got all he needed tonight. So he climbs back into bed, pulling Soap against himself. Carefully puts his cock back into the still leaking hole. Can't wait to wake up in the middle of the night hard as a rock and do it all over. Until Soap wakes up in the morning, having to figure out not only his walk of shame, but also reckon with the fact that he instinctively sinks into Prices arms, putting his head on Price's arm. Sighing all content and relaxing even more.

He takes one last look at his phone, smiling at the several missed calls from Ghost.
It's going to be a very fun two weeks. For him.

Chapter Text

Everything is blurry and hurting. He can feel Price carry him. Carelessly thrown over a shoulder that digs into his wrecked stomach. It hurts. But doesn't hurt nearly as much as his arse does. His hole still on fire, especially where he was leaking blood and cum. The only thing that comes close to that is the knee. Hot and throbbing and radiating. Promising he wouldn't be able to walk right for weeks. The cold winter air bites into his naked skin. Too cold to be soothing.

He can see Ghost trotting behind. Loyal dog following his mater. The skull mask glowing in the moonlight. Hadn't seen that damn thing since they got out here, not realised how much he was used to seeing Simon now. It makes something bitter cramp in his stomach. They could both still be running. Still making it to freedom. Instead he is broken, dragged back like some raiders prize. His fate as Price's toy sealed. Would take years until he got another chance like this. If he would get one at all.

Price slows and Ghost moves past, a door rattles. Not the front door. The shed? Was he being sent for the dog house now too? Usually Price was a bit more creative about things.

The door pops open, the door following with a groan of wood. Before he can orient himself in the room he's roughly dropped on a workbench.

Price sighs . Like he is the one who'd went through hell right now.

"I wish you didn't run John. Fucking don't want to do this. But you're leaving me no choice."

Even though they left the cold winter wind behind Soap found himself shivering.

"You don't have to do anything." he murmurs. Not sure if he is trying to appeal to some withering part of humanity in Price or if his escape attempt has left him feeling defiant still. Keeps his eyes on Price too, refusing his usual show of deference.

All he meet is steel. His captain set on whatever he'd decided.

"Can't have you run again Soap. Can't trust you any more not to do it. Something needs to be done about it."

Soap went cold at his tone this time. The finality. His eyes flicking from Price to the closed door. Noticing that Ghost had silently moved behind him.

"What do you even mean." he argued "You've made your fucking point. Won't get away from the two off you."

But he was talking to Price's back as the man started rooting around in the shed. Soap tried to pick himself up from the work table. Soon as he sat up he felt a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Ghost keeping him in place with a singular soft touch. Didn't need to say or hint at the fact that he'd keep Soap where he was if he started struggling. Not after tonight.

"Hold him properly Ghost, don't need him getting active on us again tonight."

A strong pair of arms wrap around him, pressing his arms tightly to his torso. The least comforting hug from behind he'd ever had. Ghost's still hard cock digging into his back doesn't help.

Price re-emerges one of their old SAS medpacks in one hand. Rope in the other.

"You're right John." he says while tying his fucked up leg to the table "You won't get away. You're mine. But you need to be punished and I need to make sure. Regretful, but here we are."

"Captain please." he hates how weak his voice suddenly sounds. How afraid he suddenly is.

The other leg is getting tied now "Hush Soap. It's okay. You get punished and then you're forgiven. Then we can back to all being happy together."

With his legs secure Price leans over, wipes the tears he can see running away gently. Then he presses a kiss to the swollen skin over Soap's cheekbone.

Suddenly Soap aches to go back in time just a few hours. To undo his decision. Stay in his arm bed, when all that was aching was his tits and all he needed to do was ask for the pumps.
Couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made more of a mistake than he could ever have expected.

"We'll find a way to work around it, yeah?" Price promises and Soap finds himself nodding, despite himself. He wants to believe him. That whatever is about to happen is going to grant him absolution.

Price smiles, almost hopeful. Pets down his front and for a mad moment Soap thinks he's figured his punishment out. The captain always threatened to take his balls off if he misbehaved. Fuck. He'd actually rather die. Whimpers high and terrified.

"Shh." as if he can read his mind Price's eyes lock in on his testicles as well "Should probably take them off. But I do so love you coming for me. Not going to show that much mercy again. Better remember that Soap."

Soap is nodding, openly sobbing with relief. Mumbling incoherent "Thank yous" at Price with the little air that gets past the snot.

Price's eyes find Ghost now "Got a little slack on those ropes. Pull him to yourself a little." the command is followed immediately "Can fuck him if you want, think its only fair we give Soap something nice to focus on during his punishment."

One of the crushing arms vanishes, a belt clinks.

Soap wants to beg for mercy, but he knows he's all out tonight.

"Please," he whispers weakly "'s really sensitive, please go slow?" Ghost stills for a moment then he grunts. It burns like hell already when he lines his cock up with the outside of Soap's hole. Has him hissing. Ghost grunts again. There is the soft sound of his mask being moved. Followed by a wet spitting sound. It's all the lube he'll get and Soap finds himself pathetically thankful to be getting any at all. Leans back in his arms as they close tight around him again.

He still cries out, blind with pain, as Ghost forces himself in. Slowly, but it doesn't matter with how torn Soap is already. Still feels like someone is sticking a baseball bat up into his guts. Ghost pants softly. Holding himself back. Mostly having Soap sit on his cock. Just twitching instinctively on occasion.

****

The pain distracts Soap, hard to focus on much when your arse is torn open repeatedly. So he only realises Price has been at work on his own. He realises because suddenly there is a new sharp pain on his leg. His good leg. His eyes, clenched shut before, fly open again.

Price has opened up the medpack and is fastening a tourniquet a few inches above his knee. Suddenly all the pain is forgotten as Soap starts trashing wildly. Achieving nothing but hurting his arse more. Ghost's arms might as well be concrete with how much give they have.

"No, no, no, Price, Price please." Soap knows he's hyperventilating. Can't help it. This cannot be happening.

"Soap." Price's voice is firm, unforgiving. Soap stops. Looking at him wide eyed and still gasping for air "You will not run from me again boy. Be thankful I'm only taking one."

"Nooo please, please I'll do anything you want. Will let you do anything."

Price produces the fucking butcher saw that Ghost uses to take apart the game he hunts.

"You'll let me do anything already. You're mine. You're staying mine too. Maybe once you lose that leg you'll realise it."

A belt is shoved between his teeth.

Then saw whirrs to life with an unholy shriek.

"Watch." Price growls "Learn your fucking lesson."

Soap is still begging between hysteric gasps of breath. Incoherent with the belt. Ghost's cock is still lodged in his arse.

And then the saw is biting into his flesh. And he's screaming. Whole body going rigid. Somewhere very far away there is a pained groan by Ghost.

The pain overpowers all the receptors he's still got left doing duty. Blood splatters. His blood. Hitting himself, Price and Ghost. Everything in a radius around. It's going to look like they murdered him in here. They well might. Tourniquet can only do so much.

In an act of mercy the edges are starting to draw in. His body about to cut the lights, in too much pain to keep the brain running.

"Stim shot Ghost." he hears Price say from very far away.

Then suddenly he's yanked back into present. His heart doing double time.

Can't feel anything but the beat of his heart. Not even Ghost's warmth behind or in him any more.

Shock he recognises lamely. Probably bound to happen when you're currently watching a man methodically sawing through the bones of your leg. He wants to look away. But he can't. Price said to watch. He hears Ghost grunt, that silent noise that he always makes when he cums. If his body was obeying him more he'd laugh. Maybe he does. Feels out of his body and tied to it at the same time. Time has no meaning any more. He feels the vibrations every now and then. Then suddenly there is a wet slapping noise and his leg hits the floor.

"There you go." Price is panting "Now you're perfect."

His brain has had enough at that point. No amount of adrenaline enough to keep him around.

He comes to in fits and starts. Catches glimpses of Price carving away bone. Working through the trauma kit. Steps practised over and over during their service. A blow torch flashing.The moment Ghost's limp dick slips from his hole and he's wrapped into a shock blanket. Massive fingers carding softly through his hair as he's tipped back and talked too.

None of the words make any sense. Nothing makes any sense.

Next time he blinks he's being carried through the cold again. Unable to keep his eyes open for the ten steps between the shed and the front door.

Then he's in his bed. Right where this all started. Could almost pretend nothing had happened.

****

Days pass. He gets fed, gets watered, gets carried around and helped to stay clean. But most of the time he finds himself in bed. In a delirium caused by agony. Part of learning his lesson apparently that he wouldn't get any pain killers.

Next to the pain, the boredom is killing him. Almost cries with relief every time that Price or Ghost enter. Even if they redress the wound, agitating the pain. It's still better than nothing.

Price is soft. Softest Soap has ever had him be with him. True to his word. No grudge no nothing, now that Soap has paid the price for his mistake. Will hold him, pet him. Even get the pumps when Soap's tits get achy. Tells him off his plans that should have Soap regain as much mobility as possible. He might have to crawl, but that's fine for a dog. Maybe down the line if he keeps being good they can get him a prosthetic.
Eventually when Soap breaks down in tears, asking why he isn't touching him properly he kisses him silly, gently stroking him off. Then kneels above his head so Soap can suck his cock while lying down.

Ghost is more distant first. Clinical almost. Does his job well caring for the wounds Soap sustained.
It's only after Price comes down Soap's throat that he warms back up. Lets touches linger again.
Pets his hair whenever he gets the chance. Slides into bed with him that night.
Just holding him.

Soap is almost off to the happiest sleep he's had since before this whole ordeal started when he hears the softest words whispered into his ear.

"Can't do this without you any more."

It's a confession. An apology.

"It's okay Ghostie." Soap whispers back. Surprised to find he's not lying.

Chapter Text

It had been a little over a year, now that the captain asked him to their "private meetings". Soap had irrationally hoped that he'd be busy this christmas. Not keen on a repeat performance of the events that had transpired. He hadn't even considered taking leave because he'd somehow hoped that Price wouldn't be here and he'd get a few days on base pretending life was normal again. No such luck for him. And once he'd realised that it was too late to run.

"Just us again Sergeant?" Price asked after he'd sat down where Soap and his mates were eating breakfast.

Fuck.

That had been this morning. Now the base had emptied out and he'd gotten a text that he was expected in the evening.

He'd almost thrown his phone at the wall in anger at it. Anger at himself for not seeing this coming. Should have guessed by now that the old pervert would not miss a chance. Wasn't he getting tired of messing with him? He'd clearly made his point by now, hadn't he?
It was certainly getting old for Soap to be humiliated and dragged across his carpet like a cheap whore. He'd never thought this would go on for more than a few months. Let the captain have his fun, feel powerful and then move on and drink until he forgets.
Had thought he'd get assigned to some task force or other and only see the bastard on occasion. Not that he'd be stuck working almost none stop with Price. Clearly keeping his interest alive.

Fucking hell. He just needed to walk in there and end it.

"Being tardy Soap. Better not make that a habit. Get undressed and kneel by the desk." Price isn't even looking at him. Is sitting at his stupid over the top desk, typing away on his laptop. 

"No. I'm done with your power trip. I'm not doing this any more." his voice comes out louder than expected, anger causing the volume to swell. He doesn't intend on this becoming an argument however, makes himself turn right back to the door.

There's a buzz followed by a mechanical locking sound.

"John." Price sounds amused like he's going to tell Soap to come to his senses any moment now. As expected, the handle doesn't open the door.

"Fuck you." Soap growls, can feel the anger drain his reason. "I've more than paid my due. Find someone else to work through your disgusting faggot urges. I'm done being your cum rag."

He's not above breaking the damn door if he has to.

Price doesn't answer. Instead there's a dial tone sounding out on speaker. Soap freezes turning in disbelief. No idea what new fuckery Price is up to this time.

"Montgomery. " a voice answers, clipped and short, annoyed. Soap knows that voice. That tone.

"Arthur, it's me Jonathan. Jonathan Price."

"Jonathan?" the tone changes immediately, pitching up. Anger giving way to just the slightest hint of fear. Easily missed unless you've learnt to look for it. "Jonathan," still fear now mixing with fake enthusiasm "Please, I'll need just one second so we can speak in private,"

There's noises in the background, a wife being placated and a child made promises to of a swift return. "Your choice Soap," Price says, muting his side of the call "You can kneel down right here, naked. Or you can leave and start packing your things."

The buzzing noise sounds while Soap's squadron commander explains to his wife that he really has to take that call, with more desperation than a captain serving under him should warrant.

His hand slips from the door handle as the man who can discharge him dishonourably within a heartbeat, who almost did so a year and some change ago, walks hurriedly away from his family.

Soap knows Price could make that call at any point. It's not just about the man he called. It's about the reaction too. The clear implication that their superior is afraid of Price. That no matter the good work he has done. The phenomenal work really, he won't be listened too. He will be removed.

For a maddening moment he thinks he'll do it any way. Walk away. Go home to Glasgow, build a new life for himself. Try rebuilding a relationship with his mum and da. Become a priest like they wanted him too.

The moment he thinks about his parents he knows he's lost. Couldn't face them. Not after the things Price has made him do.

Turns from the door and starts pulling his hoodie over his shoulder, just in time to hear the conversation pick back up. His eyes briefly meeting Price's before his eyes slip to the floor. Accepting defeat.

"What can I do for you Jonathan?" Montgomery asks. Still sounding afraid.

"Oh I'm so sorry for interrupting your time with your family. Workaholic me forgets it's christmas eve." Price laughs like this is a quirky mistake and not a calculated action "Just wanted to talk about a quick recommendation."

The commander sounds so relieved Soap wants to scream as he fold his clothes and puts them in the usual spot Price has designated. Montgomery is clearly happy to accept the obvious lie, long as it means his own hide is safe from whatever dirt Price has on him.

"Please by all means."

"It's about John MacTavish, you remember him?"

Soap freezes, Price motions for him to kneel at his feet.

"How could I forget him." Montgomery sounds almost normal now, having realised he's not the one being threatened tonight "Don't tell me you grew tired of your little pet project of turning him into a proper solider."

Soap kneels at Price's feet, heart beating out of his chest, feeling like he'll throw up.

"Not at all," Price chuckles between the first huffs of a new cigar being lit "Don't think I'll tire of the man at all. He might be a bit of a brat, but he's doing excellent work. Best man I've had since Riley."

Montgomery makes noncommittal noise.

"Open. Tongue out." Price mouths at Soap, pointing the phone at his mouth. Soap obeys, really hoping that Price is not about to fuck his throat. It's always sloppy and loud and there is no way the commander wouldn't hear that.

"Was thinking as a little christmas present for him being good, ever since that little incident, we could send him on that advanced demolitions course he wanted to take next year."

At the same time as he's saying that, he flicks his hand, a pile of ash landing on Soap's tongue. He almost gags at the taste. Just barely saving himself from making a noise. Kept from spitting the bitter mess out by Price's iron gaze on him.

"You'd think he'd be the one getting a lump of coal." Montgomery chuckles.

Price smiles. Taking a deep mouthful of smoke, and flicking the ash onto Soap's tongue.

"He's a joy once you know how to handle him."

The call eventually closes out. Montgomery never once urging it to an end. Indulging Price.

"So glad you came to your senses." Price says, smiling softly "You can swallow now."

Following that order almost has Soap vomit after all. The bitterness now clinging to every corner of his mouth. He retches dry before catching himself.

"Better get used to it." Price muses "Got inspired to make a few calls and I need an ashtray. Got this terrible habit of smoking through my calls."

Soap's face burns in humiliation. But he sticks his tongue out again. What else can he do?

Nothing but silently gag through several calls it turns out. Price is only going up the chain of command and from all over people rush to their phones to indulge him. Soap has no idea how he can have so many people in his pocket. It's insane. But he's got little time to contemplate that as his mouth fills with ashes over and over. Only allowed to swallow at Price's command he soon finds himself with drool running from the corners of his mouth down his neck and chest. His body trying and failing to produce enough saliva to clear out the ash he keeps swallowing.

His eyes are watering too. From the smell and taste. From Price blowing smoke directly into his face. From the fact that the man has stuck his boot between Soap's exposed legs, alternating between rubbing on and crushing down his cock.

Has him rock hard with continued stimulation. That little smile on the captains face like he knows a dirty secret when he spots it not vanishing.

Price hangs up on yet another commanding officer way up the chain. Must be close to reaching the ministry of defence at this point. The cigar is almost burned down and he moves, closer. Then suddenly presses the glowing embers right against Soap's collarbone, grinding the cigar out slowly.

"Good thing I got a case for christmas, isn't it?" he smiles down at where Soap knows his face is twisted in anger and pain. Then lights a new one, ignoring the man until it is time to flick more ash on his waiting tongue.

"Swallow."

Soap tries. His body is rebelling hard. The bitterness is now clinging to his mouth like a film. But somehow he works another mouth full down.

"Who knew you'd make such a great little faggot ash tray for me?"

Anger swells in Soap again and Price clearly catches it.

"Say it." he orders "Say that you're my disgusting faggot ashtray."

Soap feels bile rise up in him for an entirely new reason. "I'm not a faggot." he growls, then yelps as the sole of Prices shoe crushes his cock against the floor.

"Say it." he growls grinding his boot down. "Every time I end a call I want you to say it. Thank me for letting you be a useful faggot, instead of letting you rot on the streets like you deserve."

"I'm your disgusting faggot ashtray." Soap wheezes through the pain. "Thank you for letting me be a useful faggot."

The pressure is relieved but he still feels sick to the core. From swallowing to much cigar ash and from the pain. From the things he just said about himself.

But Price is already back on the phone, and Soap keeps his tongue extended, his back straight. Ignores the fact that his traitorous cock is still hard after almost getting crushed. Ignores the steady, pain still radiating from his collar bone and the fact that his entire front is wet with his own saliva. Focuses on Price's hand. Unwilling to risk even more pain even if it means he'll seem almost eager to swallow more.

When Price hangs up he looks at him expectantly, and Soap remembers only when his captain's face already twists in dismay that he was supposed to say something.

"Need to make it more clear, do I? Fine, repeat after me, if you can manage to keep anything in your dumb little whore brain for longer than two seconds. 'I John MacTavish am Captain Price's disgusting faggot ashtray. Thank you for letting me a useful faggot.' "

His face feels like it's burning. Tears are running down his face even though there is no smoke. " I John MacTavish," his voice almost breaks on his own name "Am Captain Price's disgusting faggot ashtray. Thank you for letting me a useful faggot."

Price nods, phone already in hand again and smiles, as he hits a button and it sounds back at him, repeating the phrase loud and clear. In what is undeniably his voice. Another piece of leverage he just handed to Price for free. 

"Just as a reminder, if you're feeling bratty again." Price grins, nudging Soap's erect cock with his boot and dialling the next number.
There must be an end to this. An end to important men in the military. If they even are all military.

After the call Soap is quicker on with his tongue. Hoping to spare himself some of the humiliation. Not that it matters, caught on tape as it is. Gulps down the ash almost eagerly at Prices nod.

"I'm your disgusting faggot ashtray." he says "Thank you for letting me be a useful faggot."

"Cheeky." Price replies but lets it slide. Grabs something from his desk. "Know what this is Soap?"

Soap does. Wish he didn't. Then again he'll probably find out soon enough. "It's a cock ring Sir."

Price nods, satisfied. "Figured a pofter like you would know. Go put it on."

It's tossed at him and Soap just barely catches it. He'd protest under normal circumstance, make a sarcastic comment that he's proud Price knows more than one slur. But frankly the idea of coming like this, rutting Price's boot with a mouth full of ash and tears and spit all over him is worse. And he's closer than he wants to admit.

So he fumbles the cock ring on. Aware that he can't really flag, but probably won't come either. Saved from one humiliation.

"Good, turn around. Arse up face down."

Soap very much regrets not preparing himself earlier. Never knows how Price will be about it. He's flooded with relief when a cold spurt of lube hits his hole.

"Get yourself ready."

Soap relaxes into the puddle of his own spit he's laying in and gets to work eagerly. Not sure when the captain's patience will run out.

The dial tone again. So he tried to focus on being thorough and silent.

"Steven! It's Jonathan Price."

Soap almost stops before catching himself. Where Price has gone all the way up the ladder he's dropped dramatically here. No less mortifying to know however that the bases therapist is also on that long list of people who seem to act on his captains every word.

He tries to shut them out, focusing on getting himself open and lubed up. Must have missed a cue from Price, who suddenly, in a much softer voice mumbles "Spread that wide, will you love?"

Soap freezes. Hears Steven inquire and being placated by Price. He spreads his hole open, just like Price prefers, by hooking his thumbs into his rim and pulling it open.

"Sorry lad, just got a friend of mine around, four left hands in the kitchen trying to accomplish something with a pie crust."

There is the hint of a sensation and a slight burn. But its the shadow of Price's hand that tips Soap off to what his happening. His captain using the next closest hole to avoid getting ash on the carpet.

For some reason that is worse than his mouth. Has him feel hot and flushed all over.

"She winks "Hi."" Price jokes and Soap closes his eyes. Praying for the ground to open up and swallow him. Just so he doesn't have to hear Price talking like this any more. About him, about his hole, like a he's a bird.

Worse to hear Steven answer, to hear him extend a merry christmas to the lucky woman getting to spend time with Price. Soap thinking sardonically that he'd let any of them take his place in a heartbeat. He tries to ignore the fact that he can feel more ash being flicked. Price letting the cigar get close when he sees Soap's eyes closed. Just to make sure he knows from the heat.

Draws out the conversation, longer and longer. Soap is almost tempted to turn back in to listening, to think about anything but what is happening when he feels Price press into his hole and panics. His hands fly to his mouth to catch the long, high pitched whine.

"Ignore the dog." Price grunts, "Needy bitch thinks she's getting a treat here."

He sounds perfectly normal. Like he didn't just sink his whole dick into Soap while on the phone. Like he isn't slowly fucking him into the ground. Targeting his prostate to make him mewl again.

"Think I'll have to hang up here Steven," Price laughs, "Someone clearly cannot keep their composure, might need to take her on a walk."

The moment the call disconnects Price's sedate thrusts turn savage. Soap cries out. Not nearly ready to be fucked that rough. Twists his neck to the side to avoid breaking his nose through the rough thrusts.

"What are you?" Price grunts, reminding Soap that he's not out of the woods yet.

"I'm your disgusting faggot ashtray." Soap cries. High and needy as his cock is pressed into the hard linoleum floor.

"That's right. You're my faggot, my bitch." Price spits into his face, it runs down with all of Soap's tears and his own drool, still feeling like it's leaving a burning mark.

Price moans. Loud and unabashed at the sight of Soap's humiliation. His thrusts go erratic and then heat floods Soap's hole as he spills with a satisfied noise.

The moment he pulls out is one of the worst in Soap's opinion. When he can feel his hole clench hungrily, like he actually enjoyed this and wants more. When he feels empty in a bad way for a few minutes. This time he sees from his peripheral how Price deposits a big pile of ash into his hole. A final statement he thinks and then howls in shock and outrage as Price puts the cigar out on the back of his thigh.

"Learned a lesson today, didn't you."

He just nods, hoping Price will finally leave off of him if he agrees.

Instead the man tugs on his dick lazily and laughs when he jumps.

"We'll see if you actually understood."

He gets up and pats his leg, like you do for a dog to follow you.

"Come on then, heel."

It takes some effort to push back up to his arms from where his chest is sticking to the floor with dried drool. But he manages, stays low when Price tuts at his attempt to get up on his legs and crawls over on his hands and knees instead.

"There we go, looking much better when you're not trying to be a brat."

Price moves to the door and opens it. Causing Soap to recoil instinctively. The base might be almost empty. But only almost. And there is still cameras around.

Seeing his eyes flick to where the next one is just around the corner Price laughs "Really think after all these phone calls I can't take care of that?"

That is probably a fair point.

"Someone could see us." Soap argues instead.

"So what, they all know you're bent Soap. 's not going to surprise anyone." that just makes Soap blush again. He knows there's rumours. Hates it. Hates that he hasn't managed to land a bird in the pub since Price has decided to interfere with his business.

"My clothes," he tries weakly but Price just shakes his head.

"Training the pride out of you here son. Can't have you think you're anything better than the bitch you are. You'll get your clothes back when you've learned your lesson. Now come. No more arguing."

The words are hard and final. So Soap crawls after him on all fours, drool and tears dried to his face, his fucking cock still tied up and flopping around between his legs, hard and leaking pre. His hole leaking cum and ash. Mortified. Knowing that someone will see. Someone will have to pull the tapes and they'll know. That he's following Price at his heel like a dog. Like his bitch.

Like his faggot ashtray.