1 . Name: Anonymous @ 2012-03-19 03:55

Terrible Sniper abuse I wrote while bored. I usually write all my smut in a completely non-serious fashion and most is very PWP. I still would love some of your constructive criticism if you think this can be improved.

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Sniper groaned and blinked back into consciousness, his head throbbing lightly. He attempted to shake off the daze and focus on where he was, but in the back of his mind he already knew; it was the doctor's office. Medic's office. The one place no one in their right mind would ever want to be, unless they were some kind of twisted BDSM freak, perhaps.

Sue enough, when Sniper took in his surroundings, he saw the all too familiar white walls, lined with cabinets full of God only knew what horrible instruments of torture in the name of medical science. He realized he was on his stomach, bent over one of the sturdy examination tables, wrists and ankles bound to either side of the table's base with thick leather straps.

"Aw, son of a bitch!" Sniper exploded into irate growls and unintelligible strings of curses. He futilely struggled with his binds.

Damn, but he knew better than to turn his back to Medic.

Medic had gotten Sniper with a syringe when he attempted to walk off after refusing to go in for a what Medic had insisted was a "routine prostate exam." Prostate exam, his ars—well, perhaps that could be phrased better. Sniper didn't believe a word of it. Medic was real kook; he just wanted victims to explore his sadistic little kinks through. Sniper wasn't having any of it, no matter how qualified Medic tried to state that he was, or how receiving regular prostate exams could greatly benefit one's health.

Since when was Medic honestly interested in the team's health? Never, that's when. Maybe the others were dumb enough to fall for that line, but not Sniper. If he ever needed a prostate exam, he'd get one from a truly certified doctor outside of this lunatic filled mercenary unit. Of course, having known Medic's perseverance when it came to getting his way, Sniper should have realized earlier on that it wouldn't be a simple matter of saying no and then leaving.

The door opened with a bang and Medic came in with a box of supplies clutched in his arms and a deranged smile on his lips. "Guten Tag!"

Sniper cringed, but then erupted into a new burst of disgruntled fury at the doctor's appearance. "You bloody quack! Let me go right now, you hear me! Let me outta here, you whack-job! I told you, I don't want any of your faulty medical examinations!" Sniper rattle his binds and the table with jerks and strains of his whole body. It did little to aid in his freedom.

Medic only clucked his tongue and ignored Sniper's increasingly violent, curse laden demands. "Settle down, Herr Sniper. I will let you loose when I am done with you. Do not fret." He cheerfully hummed a tune while he opened the box and began digging through the contents.

Sniper looked back over his shoulder, watching Medic with growing frustration. Soon he watched with equally growing apprehension. Several things came from the nondescript box, each item pulled from it of a more disturbing nature than the previous: there came a handful of bottles and tubes that carried potent sweet and spicy scents; a pair of thinner latex gloves, red in color, same as the heavier surgical ones Medic always wore into battle; a handful of forebodingly phallic shaped objects wrapped in protective plastic covering, each of varying lengths and colors; what looked like a large turkey baster; and something in a frighteningly tall, narrow black box with the word "Thor" scrawled across the worn masking tape label. Medic set them all on the tool cart nearby and rubbed his hands together with an eager glimmer in his eyes.

Just a routine prostate exam.

Right.

"Let us begin, shall we?" Medic pulled off his standard gloves, tossing them onto the counter behind him and donning the latex ones. He flexed his hands and fingers, making the latex squish and squeak while Sniper watched helplessly with wide eyes behind his tinted sunglasses. Sniper flinched when Medic gave the material a cruel snap for good measure and turned around to face him.

"Come on, Doc! I'm on your team, for Christ's sake. Why don't you get your rocks off on the BLUs if you wanna do this sort of thing?" Sniper's venomous ranting had turned into calmer—though none the less desperate—pleading. Medic remained unfazed and reached for Sniper's belt. The instant Medic's fingers got it open and pulled it loose, the captive man's attitude went back to a blind rage. "Oi! Fuck are you—get away from me! I swear, once you let me loose from here, I'll have your fuckin' head on me trophy wall! I'm a dinkum assassin, mate! A bloody professional!"

Sniper continued yelling threats and random indiscernible whatnot in his husky Australian accent until Medic's ears had had enough. Annoyed, Medic went back to the box and dug through it, pulling out a roll of black electrical tape. He tore off an adequate sized piece and slapped it over Sniper's mouth when Sniper made the mistake of pausing for breath during his tirade. "That's better!" He gave the man a pat on the shoulder and went back to business. Sniper's indignant yells continued, but were reduced to only muffled grunts and growls from behind the tape. Much easier on the ears.

Medic went back to work on Sniper's trousers and tugged them down to his thin calves. Sniper's briefs followed, and there came the most intense protest from Sniper's taped mouth once he felt the last protective garment currently separating his ass from Medic's wrath leaving his loins. Sniper let out a fearful string of "Mmmm mmmmm!" and jerked against the table.

"Hmm, let's see. Which one, which one..." Medic's finger hovered over the bottles and tubes of lubricant for a few seconds before he selected a suitable one from the group. He picked up a half crumpled white tube and unscrewed the cap in a fluid motion of his fingers. He tilted it, squeezing a decent amount onto the index and middle fingertips of his other hand.

Another "Mmmmmm!" more desperate than the last came from Sniper, his eyes screwing shut as Medic advanced. Medic had a toothy grin fixed on his face. Sniper's eyes flew back open and he jumped when Medic's free hand made contact with his shoulder once again. He looked over his shoulder at Medic, glaring daggers of contempt at him.

"Now, now, Herr Sniper. You will need to relax," Medic said in a sugar-sweet tone, "or this might get uncomfortable."

Upon that subtle threat—that was how Sniper took it—Sniper's eyes widened again, filling with dread and realization. Yes, having things shoved up your ass probably would get uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable in fact, if the person doing the shoving got pissed off. Sniper decided he really wasn't in the best position to do much but man up and take it; he could deal with Medic later, providing he survived this harrowing experience. If he didn't, respawn would make sure he at least got a second chance at revenge. Though living down a cause of death forever logged in the records as severe rectal trauma would be something else entirely that he'd have to deal with. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

With an "Mmm" of uncertainty, Sniper turned away and stared at the wall in front of him, reluctantly attempting to relax himself in preparation for the abuse he was about to endure. At the moment, he found it a rather hard task to accomplish; he settled on just trying to go completely limp and hope for the best.

"Much better," Medic said, and placed the free hand on the left cheek of Sniper's firm ass. The other made its way to Sniper's vulnerable hole and rubbed two fingers against it experimentally before pushing slowly inward.

The reaction from Sniper was instantaneous and predictable; he jumped again with a loud grunt from behind the tape, ring of muscle clenching down on Medic's invading fingers in an attempt to discourage them from going further. The fingers did not comply, however. Medic smirked and eased them deeper inside with the utmost care. Slowly and surely, the slick fingers made it through and began to explore and stretch the tight walls surrounding them. All the while Sniper grunted and fidgeted against the table, head lowered, face growing ever more flushed.

"There we are," said Medic, withdrawing the fingers only long enough to apply more lubricant and slide them back in. A third joined once Sniper's body loosened enough to properly accept it, and the trio of fingers played for a few moments longer. Medic once again withdrew his fingers and then slid only the index finger back inside. "Not so bad, now is it?" The grin returned. He located Sniper's prostate and began stroking it ever so gently, observing the other man's reactions with a disturbing intensity.

A long groan came from Sniper's taped mouth. He unleashed a softer burst of something that could have been words, perhaps curses again, but the tape did its job in preventing them from being heard. His body jerked and strained, but this time the muscles remained far more relaxed as Medic worked the gloved finger inside him. Sniper began to tremble, his body heating up with arousal.

Oh fuck, yes, he was getting turned on; there could be denying here.

Another groan came from Sniper, and he panted heavily into the tape. His gaze fell to the table and he blinked rapidly, looking almost startled; he was growing stiff. The table became an even larger source of frustration once Sniper found it to be rubbing against his erection in a manner he couldn't really enjoy. Fucking thing didn't have any padding down there. Just cold, hard metal. But the finger inside him—Oh God, that finger. That was more than enough to keep him preoccupied.

"Ah, that looks good." Medic pulled the finger out, plunging Sniper into a crushing world of dissatisfaction.

Sniper blinked his eyes back open, wondering vaguely if the examination was over. When Medic went back to the cart of supplies and picked something else up, he knew that was not the case. Daring to look back over his shoulder, Sniper saw one of the shorter phallic objects in Medic's hands as Medic turned back to face him and approached. Medic took off the wrapping and revealed it to be a somewhat thin and garishly bright orange dildo. The item was slightly curved, with a flared circular base.

Sniper's apprehension returned with a vengeance. Fingers were one thing... toys another. Those were weapons, far as he was concerned. With a muffled burst of pleas for mercy, Sniper shook his head back and forth in protest. The smug, lecherous expression that took over Medic's face told Sniper exactly what was in store for his poor ass.

Medic nodded in response, uttering one single word to let Sniper know who was in charge here: "Ja."

And with that, he began to slide it inside.

Sniper gasped into the tape, hips thumping against the table. He strained, then relaxed with another few groans. Behind him, Medic moved the dildo around a little, testing. He managed to get what sounded like a brief moan from Sniper, and one corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. He slid the dildo deeper inside Sniper, then out, slowly. Teasingly. Another moan. Medic smiled fully and began to work the dildo inside Sniper in a more steady rhythm, increasing the pace until Sniper let out a more audible and fully discernible moan of pleasure though the tape. Medic let out a light laugh and withdrew the object from Sniper's ass, placing it off to the side. He picked up and prepared another.

Sniper's eyes popped back open, wide with confusion and surprise. He hadn't expected things to turn out like this. But then again, how was he to know that having things put into your ass could actually feel good? He'd never done it before. He didn't have much time to dwell on the matter before Medic brought a larger, pale purple dildo to him. The overhead lights shone wetly on it, its curved head and several inches of the length having been slicked with lubricant. Sniper grunted as he took it inside easily enough, and after a short window of adjustment, Medic began moving it inside him the same as the previous one. Again, Sniper broke into pants and soft murmurs, resting his head against the table. A light sweat began to bead on his flesh. His penis throbbed jealously at the attention his ass was receiving.

Growing bored with that particular toy and the unsatisfactory results it coaxed from his test subject, Medic moved to a new one. This time he skipped down the row and plucked the largest of the plastic packages from the cart. He unwrapped a perfect seven inch replica of a human penis—save for the color which was a flat white, and the base which was wide and square. It had a sliding button on it with what appeared to be marks indicating four different settings. After applying another bit of lube to the dildo in hand, Medic brought it to Sniper's waiting ass and slipped it in with a sadistic, gleeful giggle. "Let us see how this one works for you, eh?"

It looked like it worked well, Medic observed, as Sniper let out a long low grunt, his chest heaving against the table when Medic began to slid it in and out in a slow motion. Sniper's eyes slid shut. He went back to panting and making groans into the table, unable to help from rocking his hips ever so slightly along with Medic's movements.

"Good, ja?" Medic asked, not particularly expecting a response. His lips curled into a wicked smirk. He slid the button up with his thumb.

Sniper would have bolted upright, had he not been securely fastened to the table. The dildo emitted a loud buzz, vibrating at a slow and even pace, sending explosive pleasure throughout Sniper's body. He let out a scream through the tape, eyes wide. Medic threw his head back and let out another peal of high-pitched laughter.

"There we are, Herr Sniper! I think we've found the right one for you," said Medic, gently moving the toy to the area of Sniper's prostate.

Sniper's eyes rolled back and closed. He writhed and jerked, barely able to restrain himself from bucking wildly into the toy in Medic's hand.

After allowing it to rest at Sniper's prostate for several minutes, Medic pushed the button up another notch, increasing the vibrations. The dildo buzzed louder and Sniper moaned harder, hands that had been clutching weakly at the table beneath balling into fists and jerking against their restraints. Another few minutes, another notch. Sniper tugged at the wrist straps like he thought he could get free somehow, consumed with the urge to move. What he desperately wanted was a free hand to grab himself and pump for all he was worth. It didn't look like Medic was ever going to oblige him, too focused on his own fun with the toys and experimenting on Sniper's ass with them.

"Mmmmm! Mmmmph!" Sniper moaned loudly through the tape. It had started to lose its grip from all the stretching and spit slathering it from his various outbursts. Finally, it peeled away from one corner and dangled from the side of Sniper's mouth. "Oh, fuckin' hell! Oh God!" Sniper blurted through pants and gasps, voice hoarse. He let his head rest against the table again and struggled to contain his cries, biting his lower lip. Here he was, free to curse Medic up and down again as much as he wanted. He didn't, fearing he would be unable to do so without it turning into wild moans of pleasure.

Medic, of course, was having another giggling fit. "Are you finally having a good time, Herr Sniper?"

"D-D-Doc," Sniper managed, lips pulling into a snarl, but one far more indicative of lust than anger. Medic moved the toy away from the hot spot and gave Sniper the slight bit of reprieve he needed to be able to get more intelligible words out. "Y-you... this isn't... a fucking... prostate exam!" he said weakly, as if it honestly meant something to the crazed German.

"Well, no," Medic said, eyes flicking up toward the ceiling. "No, really." Finally, he admitted his sham. But then he added, "However! Doing things like this really can help your health in the long run, my disgruntled friend."

Sniper growled, fighting harder against the steady throbbing in his loins. "F-fuck it does!"

"No, no, it does. Trust me; I'm a doctor," said Medic, the look on his face one of utmost innocence and reassurance as he gave Sniper's left ass cheek a rub. It was completely betrayed by another one of the man's sadistic giggles. He moved the toy back to its previous position at Sniper's prostate and slid the button up a final time.

Sniper let out a howl and came, spurting his release against the lower portion of the table. He rode along with slow bucks of his hips until he came down from his climax and went completely limp against the table. Medic shut off the vibrator and withdrew it.

"Interesting results. Very interesting." Medic gave a nod and tossed the used toy aside with the others. His eyes darkened as he looked toward the large black box.

One final experiment.

He grabbed it and looked back at Sniper, the man laying there looking quite exhausted, with traces of lube smeared along his tanned ass cheeks. Delightful. The deranged grin held its position over Medic's face. "But I'm sure these results will be much more interesting!" He pulled open the top flaps and looked inside. "When I—eh?" The grin turned into an abrupt frown of irritation as he peered into the box. "What is—"

Medic gave an annoyed growl and dug into the box, pulling out a can of Bonk soda that had been filled with dirt to provide weight, and a folded note. He pulled the note open and read it.

QUIT TOUCHIN MY SHIT DOC! I PAID FOR THIS WITH REAL MONEY SO I COULD HIT PEOPLE IN THE FACE WITH IT, NOT SOS YOU COULD USE IT TO JAM UP YOUR KIESTER, YOU COCKMUNCHIN COCKHEADED COCKFACE! GO BUY YOUR OWN ASS TOYS!

up yours,
Scout

The words stood out along the crisp white paper in huge red letters, done in marker.

"That Schweinhund," Medic said, and crumpled the note and tossed it over his shoulder. His attention back to Sniper, he turned and sighed. "Well, it looks like that's going to be all for today. My mistake." He shrugged.

Sniper grumbled something into the table as Medic undid the straps binding his wrists.

"What was that, Herr Sniper?"

"I... said... you're a bloody quack," Sniper said into the table, with a great amount of effort. His sunglasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, revealing his blue eyes to be heavy with the need for sleep.

"Ja, ja." Medic put on a pleasant smile and Sniper slid from the table into his arms. He held the lanky man with one arm and fiddled with the ankle straps until he got them undone. After that, Sniper was on his own, placed ass first onto the cold tiles below.

Sniper hissed, the sensation shocking him out of his daze. He brought a hand to his head and groaned. He stood, grabbing at the countertop for support. Sniper broke into grumbles as he fumbled with his pants and hiked his underwear and trousers back up. He quickly did up his zipper and belt buckle while silently vowing revenge on Medic. It would have to wait; first he needed a long rest and a few drinks—and probably a pillow. He figured the tingling in his ass would most likely turn into soreness, give or take a few hours.

"Next!" Medic shouted toward the doorway.

To his surprise, Spy came through the door, holding a waiting room ticket with a large number two on it. "Bonjour, Doctor. How are you this fine day? Good, I trust?"

Sniper finished fastening his belt and took the opportunity to slip out, fleeing for safety to recuperate in, and formulate his plan.

"Wait a minute," Medic said, pointing to the door, "you were number eight. How did you..."

Spy gave a nonchalant shrug, smiling widely. "Oh, I traded with everyone. They seemed more than eager to, knowing what goes on back here." He loosened his tie, walking past Medic to the table. He gave the box and the cart of used toys an eager inspecting. "I was trying to find Sniper, but I guess you got to him first. How unfortunate." With that, Spy hopped onto the table and waited patiently, wearing a broad smirk.

Medic grumbled and gathered up his tools for sterilization. "Ja, ja. I'll be with you in a moment." He started to walk away, but turned to look over his shoulder. "Oh, just so you know, Scout has reclaimed Thor."

"But it's not a proper examination without Thor!" Spy moaned unhappily. A look of annoyed determination came over him and he hopped back down from the table. "I will retrieve it! Mark my words!"

Medic went back to grinning deviously. "Ja, ja! You do that, Herr Spy." He patted the Frenchman on the back, ushering him toward the door. "And when you find the little brat, be sure to bring him in because I know he'll try to weasel his way out of his examination."

Spy nodded and flew out the door and down the hall like a stealthy gust of wind.

"Take your time!" he called after Spy. After a few minutes of listening, he went out to the waiting room and found Soldier standing dutifully at attention against the wall.

In his hand was ticket number Three.