Hi, 'chan, long time no see. I'm just going to put all the TF2 guro I ever wrote in here. Blood, guts, off-label Medigun use, and miscellaneous body horror. I'm going to start with my earliest and just go forward, posting one or two per day. This one is first, and possibly finest. ----------------------------------------------------------- EXPLORATORY SURGERY During a lull in the fighting, the Sniper let himself into the sickbay, where the Medic was tinkering with the Blutsauger. "I'm sick, Doctor." The rangy Australian lay down on the stainless-steel exam table and rested his head on his hands. "How so?" The Medic set his weapon down carefully. He had been watching the Sniper, and he knew the assassin had been watching him. There were no heated glances across the battlefield; it was more of a mutual surveillance. Wary, distant, but each of them knew where the other was, what he was doing, at all times. Now, though, the Sniper had escalated the detente. "I don't know, Doctor. I just feel... strange. Perhaps you should take a look." There was a sly half-smile playing on the Sniper's lips. The Medic's breath hitched slightly- what was the Sniper inviting him to do? He drifted toward the exam table, hands poised. "So vhen do you usually haf zese... strange feelings?" He dropped his hands to the Sniper's chest. When the Australian remained passive, he began to undo the other man's shirt buttons. "Night time," the Sniper's eyes slid half-closed. "Do zese scars hurt you?" The Medic trailed his gloved fingers down the raised white marks of old knife and bullet wounds. "No, Doctor," the Sniper inhaled deeply, and rolled his head back, exposing his throat to the Medic. "I see." The German ran a fingertip from the Sniper's throat down the centre line of the man's body to the low-slung waistband of his pants. "I must make a complete examination." The Medic looked at the assassin, his thoughts racing. "Strip," he ordered. The Sniper stood and shed his clothing. He didn't attempt any showy eroticism, but his native grace and languid pace had the Medic riveted. He took his shirt and vest off first, revealing a bullet wound on his back that was the twin of one of the scars on his chest. At some point in the distant past, a bullet had gone straight through this man. The Medic suppressed a shudder. A small amount of dark body hair decorated the Australian's sunburnt skin, coalescing into a trail that led from his navel to the waistband of his pants, and down. He took off his boots to show long bony toes and high arches. He made a show of modesty by turning his back to unzip his trousers. The Medic watched hungrily as the Sniper slid his pants down to reveal slim hips, a tight little ass, long slender legs... he stood still with his back to the Medic. "Turn around," the Medic rasped. He was gratified when the Australian obeyed at once, as if he had been waiting for an order. The Medic liked the implications. "Put your arms out at ze sides, palms down." Again the Sniper obeyed, standing stock-still as the Medic walked around to inspect him. Finally, the Medic got to see the Sniper's penis. It hung long against his thigh, surrounded by black hair. The man was uncut, but the head of his cock was pushing out of his foreskin. He was aroused. "So, Herr Sniper," the Medic mused. "You spend all day vatching from ze high places... it must be a svitch to be under scrutiny yourself." "Indeed it is," the Sniper gave his sly half-smile again, and his cock twitched against his thigh. "Lie down on zer exam table, und tell me about zese strange feelings." The Sniper lay down, his skin tightening into goosebumps as his skin touched the cold metal. "It's like... a pressure, Doctor, or heat. Starts in my belly, then slides down to me John Thomas an' up to my throat 'til it's near stranglin' me." "Zis could be serious," the Medic grinned broadly. "I should make an exploratory surgery." "I think you should, too," the Sniper smiled back at him. "Just one favour to ask you, mate?" "Ja?" The Medic didn't really want to negotiate, didn't want any limits. "I think I'll need a lot of anaesthesia. Injections, that is." That, the Medic could work with. Grinning carnivorously, he readied a gleaming steel and glass syringe full of one of his favourite drugs, not exactly an anaesthetic. The Sniper would feel everything... but it wouldn't feel like pain. The Medic's erection was already throbbing, but he ignored it for the time being and soaked a square of gauze with fragrant medicinal alcohol. A thought struck him, and he poured a shot into each of two dram measures. "A toast," he offered a glass to the Sniper. The rangy Australian half-sat up on the table, clinked rims with the Medic, and said "to your health." "To yours," the Medic replied, and swallowed his drink. He buckled a leather tourniquet around the Sniper's arm, then slid the man's cooperative hands into the restraints at the sides of the exam table. He swabbed the vein in the Sniper's elbow and said, "Zis vill only hurt for a moment." The sensation of pushing the needle into the Sniper's vein was sexually intense; injecting him with the serum, almost orgasmic. The Medic panted as he withdrew the syringe, and permitted himself to lick up the drop of blood that followed it. "You're right, Medic, that doesn't hurt a bit." The euphoria was evident in the Sniper's voice, and his cock was now rock-hard. The Medic took a moment to just look at what he had. The lanky, scarred Sniper was stretched out on his exam table, naked and drugged out of his mind. There were almost too many possibilities for the Medic to pick one. The Sniper moaned sensuously and tried to touch himself, but the restraints clanked on the edge of the table. "Please, Doctor, cut me," he asked in a husky voice. How could the Medic refuse? He worked quickly, swabbing the Sniper's abdomen with the medicinal alcohol and readying his scalpels. "How does zis feel?" He traced along the Sniper's abdomen with a scalpel, drawing a thin line of blood in lieu of plotting out his incision in ink. "Bloody brilliant, Doc, but I still have that strange sensation." "Understandable, I haf yet to begin zer operation." The Medic held the skin of the Sniper's belly taut with his left hand as he began the incision in earnest. In one practised motion, he sliced through skin and muscle to reveal the tough, pellucid sac of the peritoneum. He caressed it, marvelling at the firm, dark shapes of the organs underneath. "Can you feel zat, liebe Herr?" "Ohh, yes." "Do you vant more?" "I do." The Sniper's eyes were smouldering, unfocused. The Medic opened the peritoneum carefully, making sure not to nick the intestines. Nasty things. As soon as he could, he sutured off the stomach and large intestine and lifted the whole slippery mess into a basin. He made sure to leave just about twelve inches inside the anus... just in case. "Ugh- what've you done to me, Doc?" "I took out your digestion. Qvite neatly, may I add. You are no longer a machine for living- you are a thing of pleasure." "Bloody 'ell..." "'Bloody' is correct," the Medic smiled down at the gore on his gloves and coat. "Can you feel zis?" He massaged the Sniper's anus, from the inside. The man moaned. "And is zis vhere zat strange feeling lives?" He pressed a finger down into the Sniper's inguinal canal, past his prostate and between his testicles, stroking across the ligament that anchored the Sniper's penis. "Ah- oh, sodding- ah!" The Sniper was losing too much blood to sustain his erection, but the action of the drug was turning the torture into ecstasy. How much longer could it protect the Australian from going into shock was unclear. Blood was pooling in the empty bowl of the Sniper's abdomen. "But you say ze feeling is like strangling, also?" The Medic grinned down at his increasingly incoherent patient. "Perhaps ze problem ist in ze lungs." He pushed his finger up through the taut muscle of the Sniper's diaphragm, pressing the sutured end of the esophagus neatly into itself. The tightness, the fluctuating pressure of the Sniper's lungs was heavenly, but the liver and the kidneys were in the way. The Medic tied off the relevant arteries and veins, then cut the obstructive organs away. They went into the basin, too, though he gave the liver a loving squeeze with his long fingers. The Medic's hands were now shaking in earnest as he clawed at his belt and fly. The Sniper's blood was everywhere, alternately slippery and sticky. The Medic stroked himself as he climbed up onto the table to crouch on the Sniper's thighs. Penetrating his ass just seemed... pedestrian, with the man's abdomen spread open before him. Sliding further up his patient's body, the Medic caressed the diaphragm again. The taut sheet of muscle was naturally pierced by three holes- one for the fluttering aorta, one for the vena cava, still carrying blood back to the Sniper's faltering heart, and the esophageal hiatus, that until recently had connected to the Sniper's stomach. Probing that narrow hole, the Medic could feel the lungs trying to expand as the Australian laboured to breathe. The Medic was certain his patient would breathe more easily without a gaping hole in the vacuum chamber of his thorax. The Medic knew just how to seal that wound- when the Sniper tried to breathe out, he pressed down on the assassin's chest and slid his penis into the tight opening. It sealed the hole, allowing the Sniper his first deep breath in some time; this inflated his lungs tightly around the Medic's cock. The German groaned in pleasure, and was answered by a half-conscious groan from his victim. The reverberation of that groan against the Medic's cock was unreal, irresistible. The Medic could cried out and pressed in more deeply. Now he could feel the throb of the Sniper's heart against the tip of his penis. He roared like an animal, thrusting wildly. The thorax had not evolved to withstand this kind of strain- the Sniper's diaphragm was tearing, his ribs cracking under the Medic's hands. The Medic's motion pushed air in and out of the Sniper's lungs, forcing the Australian to make rough, panting noises. Soon, he began to convulse, writhing underneath the doctor. In the Medic's expert opinion, the man was dying. He increased his pace as the Sniper's body stilled. The Sniper's death rattle brought him to orgasm; he came screaming and swearing in German. He felt invincible, perfect, buried in his teammate's corpse and drenched in the man's blood. He collapsed, panting, to lick the bloody froth from the Sniper's lips. He lay atop the body until it vanished, picked up by the respawn system. Shortly thereafter, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the infirmary from the nearby respawn room. The Sniper opened the door, naked, clean and vigorous; a marked contrast to the bloody, exhausted, half-dressed Medic. "I take it that was good for you, then?" The Medic hauled himself upright with a moan, barely able to tuck his clothing back together. He draped himself over the Sniper, smearing the man's former blood on his new skin. "Oh, meine liebe, meine..." "'Ere, don't get soppy. Let's get you to the showers." The Sniper looped an arm under the Medic's waist.
hnnng..I love this fic. I'm definitely looking forward to reading everything else you post here
Marty, you beautiful human being, I absolutely love, love, LOVE this fic. It is actually one of my top favorite fics. Thank-you for re-posting it! And I agree with anon #2; I can't wait for your other posts.
Like, you have no idea how excited I am right now to have seen this new thread and to have re-read your fic.
A recurring theme for me: my phobia of, and fetish for, needles. _____________________________________________________________ SYRINGE The Heavy didn't know what was in the syringe. All he knew was that his Doktor had gotten a crazed gleam in his eye, subtly different to the many and varied other crazed gleams that the Russian had learnt to recognise. This particular spark had led the Medic to raid the clinic on his own behalf. The Medic often raided the supplies for items to use on the Heavy. Since their cooperation had taken a more... intimate turn, the Medic had introduced the Heavy to the pleasures of restraints, scalpels, electric shocks, and a host of others. The Heavy prided himself on being able to soak up whatever damage his lover could inflict, and there were always the soothing beams of the Medigun; he felt safe, no matter how depraved the Medic got. But when the German dug into the medicine cabinet for what he said would be a new experiment... that made the Heavy's heart hammer with fear and lust. Lust gained the upper hand as the Medic collected his supplies and they retreated from the infirmary to the Medic's private quarters. When the Medic ordered the Heavy to strip, the large man did so without a moment's hesitation. He watched hungrily as the Medic took off his coat, tie and shirt. The Heavy had no idea what was coming, but he forced himself to remain still- any insubordination or over-familiarity at this juncture could still spur the Medic to a savage rage, which he would have no compunctions about taking out on the Heavy. "Sit," the Medic commanded, pointing to his desk chair. The Heavy sat; fastidiously ignoring the Russian's erection, the Medic perched on the Heavy's knee. The German double-checked the implements that he had brought. A rubber tourniquet, a vial, a syringe, a bottle of alcohol and a pad of gauze. The Heavy felt a surge of anticipation just looking at the syringe, but sat patiently. To the Russian's surprise, the Medic tightened the tourniquet around his own left arm. The Heavy found himself envious of the Medic's own right hand as the German stroked the crook of his left elbow with alcohol. He wanted to touch the Medic, anywhere, in any way... soon. The Medic did not usually allow casual caresses. As the Medic drew the clear liquid out of a sealed vial and readied the syringe, Heavy's hand hovered over the Medic's arm. The German looked slyly over his shoulder, and slid back slightly so that his hip brushed the Heavy's erection. "This is a powerful sedative," the Medic said, in what the Heavy thought of as his 'lecture' tone. The older man flicked the syringe to expel any air bubbles. "When I am under, you can do with me... as you wish." The implications of that statement sent a rush of heat to the Heavy's groin. "Anything, Doktor?" "Have you ever known me to be less than a man of my word?" The Medic cocked an eyebrow as he pressed the tip of the needle against his skin. "Anything." The needle pierced the vein and the Medic depressed the plunger in one smooth motion. The Heavy was on a knife's edge of anticipation. He was rigid with desire and terror at the thought of the Medic helpless in his hands. The Medic remained himself for long enough to withdraw the needle and place it back on the tray. As the drug took effect, he went limp in the Heavy's arms. His warm body sagged back against the Heavy's aching erection, and the Russian groaned. Forcing himself to keep his motions gentle, the Heavy lifted the Medic in his huge hands. He was dead weight, surprisingly heavy for how small he seemed, but the Russian lifted him with ease. Exertion was not the reason that the Heavy broke into a sweat as he laid the Medic on his bed. "Doktor?" the Heavy murmured, putting his face close to the Medic. There was no response. "Doktor?" He patted the Medic's cheek- still nothing. He grasped the Medic's left nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched, quite hard. It earned him only the barest groan, and the Heavy felt he might have an orgasm right there. Huge hands shaking, the Heavy tugged off the Medic's boots and fumbled to open his fly. Getting the Medic's pants off was an awkward practise, especially as the Heavy tried to strip off his boxers at the same time and got them wrucked together. Soon, though, the German lay naked on his own bed. He looked so strange like this. He looked handsome, he looked delicate, he looked as it he might wake and start screaming at the Heavy at any moment. He also looked heart-stoppingly vulnerable. The bonesaw-wielding terror of the battlefield- the Heavy's cock jerked. The Heavy let his fingers wander over his lover's body. The German was older than he was, his skin thinner, with gray strands in his body hair. However, his limbs were still long and straight, with lean muscle that could carry him far faster than the Heavy could run on a good day. The Russian kissed the German's arms, legs, chest and finally his face, his lips with a passion that the Medic would scarcely have tolerated if conscious. There was something he wanted, something the Doktor had never lowered himself to do, something that the Heavy would never have dared to request. But now... The Heavy grabbed the tube of surgical lubricant from its place in the Medic's nightstand. He had to do this properly. Even if the Medic didn't feel it now, the Heavy knew he'd be punished if the German felt it tomorrow. The Medic had once carved the Heavy up with a scalpel, because his arm was sore after flogging his massive lover. As such, the Heavy forced himself to go as slowly as his pounding pulse would allow. He pressed one lubricated fingertip into the Medic's ass. Relaxed though the German was, this muscle was still tight. The Heavy moved gently, stretching it from unbearable to merely amazing, and positioned himself between the Medic's thighs. Getting the Medic's limp body in position would have been difficult for anyone less strong, less tall, less determined than the Heavy. He pressed the Medic's thighs toward his chest, then supported the man's calves on his shoulders. After a moment's desperate fumbling, his erection was positioned at the Medic's entrance. The Heavy couldn't wait any longer; he plunged in. The Medic groaned faintly as the Heavy pressed into him, but showed no other response. The pleasure and pressure were unbearable as the Heavy thrust, working himself deeper into the Medic' body. The Heavy groaned, trying to control his reactions, but he knew he wouldn't be able to last long. He had never been allowed to do this before, to use the Medic as profoundly as the Medic had ever used him. He found himself ramping up his pace, seizing the Medic around the waist to slam into him again and again. Panting with lust, the Heavy looked down at his Medic. The German's head was thrown back, his eyes rolled back in his head. His arms were spread in an unconscious gesture of surrender, of utter abandon. The combination of power and pleasure was more than the Heavy could bear- he came, feeling as if he was losing a part of himself deep inside his lover. He had no sense of time, of place, of himself The last thing he knew was a profound and blissful exhaustion as he slid onto the bed beside the Medic for the night. When the Heavy awoke the next morning, he was deep underneath a pseudo-military base, as usual, but he felt that the sun should be shining, birds should be singing. He opened his eyes to see the Medic smiling at him. "Guten morgen, mein Heavy." "Oh, Doktor," the Heavy reached out for a kiss, unthinking, and was surprised when the Medic allowed it. "How, ah, are you all right?" "Never better, mein Heavy." The Medic kissed him again, without prompting. "Perhaps ve shall have to do that again." "Da, Doktor," the Heavy tried to contain his excitement. "if you want, maybe can do it to me." "Nein," the Medic said softly. "You are big, but your heart is not so much bigger than that of other men. The dosage to put you under vould be dangerously close to the amount to stop your giant heart." He kissed the Heavy, yet again. "Understand." "Ve shall just have to make do vith the medical restraints," the Medic smiled wickedly. The Heavy kissed him, and did not ask again. The Medic was glad. It would not do for the Heavy to find out that the syringe had contained only water.
Needle fixation and body horror! ______________________________________________ INJECTION (Medic/Scout) "Doc?" The Scout's voice was shaking. "Doc, I don't think I wanna do this any more!" His toes were curled against the stirrups on the exam table, his thin wrists and ankles straining at the cuffs that held them in place. The buckles clinked, but the sturdy leather was strong enough to hold Heavy down. The team's skinny runner wasn't going anywhere. "Nonsense, Scout," the Medic purred. "Ve must see this through. You will enjoy the results... trust me." He swabbed an alcohol-soaked rag against the younger man's balls. "SHIT that's cold!" The Scout yelped. "No, man, no, I can't, I don't-" "Hold still," hissed the Medic. "This is a delicate procedure." "I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW," wailed the Scout, trying to press his thighs together. "Shh, shh," the Medic leered as he slid a needle into the soft skin of the Scout's scrotum. "There, how does that feel?" He released the clamp on a bag hanging from a drip stand. "Uh- ohhhfuck," the Scout's eyes rolled. "Weird- fuckin'- weird- oh-" The young man went limp in the restraints. "I told you it vould be enjoyable." The Medic applied some lubricant to his heavy rubber glove and stroked the Scout's cock, watching the liquid drain into the American's balls. The Scout continued to stammer, unable to formulate a complete sentence. "Why, warm, why-" "Of course I warmed the solution before starting. Cold would have the paradoxical effect of shrinking your organs; that is the last thing we need at this time." The Medic glanced over at another bag hanging from the same drip stand. "How does it feel?" "Good, so good," the scout gasped. "Very good. We shall start the second portion of the procedure." The Scout groaned, his head thrown back on the exam table. His eyes snapped open as he felt the cold alcohol on his cock. "Oh, Doc! No, man, no, please, this is- just STOP!" "But you are enjoying it so far," the Medic pointed out. "Now, do not squirm." Pinching the delicate skin at the Scout's frenulum, the Medic inserted the needle and started the flow. The Scout screamed, long and high, his fingers clutching spasmodically at the sides of the exam table even as the Medic taped the needles in place. "Do not thrash so," the Medic scolded. "You will harm yourself. Remain calm, and tell me how it feels." The German stood close to the head of the exam table, pressing his crotch to the smooth metal, stimulating himself through his pants and lab coat. "No no no NO NO!" The Scout kept screaming. Sighing, the Medic unfurled more straps from their position under the table, and bound Scout's thighs, calves and waist. "This will only take a few minutes more. The result will be wonderful." He held the Scout's head tenderly, stroking the younger man's hair. Eventually the Scout stopped screaming, and lay still, his bony chest heaving. "Doc, man," his voice was hoarse. "This is so fuckin' weird." "I know, I know," the Medic soothed. "But it is beautiful. You are beautiful." This, at least, got a shaky laugh from the Scout. "Doc, you need ta spend less time with Heavy, go into town and meet some girls." "That is not what I mean," the Medic's eyes were lidded behind his glasses. "The ability to change the human body, to render such alteration... is magnificent. Mein Heavy will accept many things... but he will not do this." "Seriously, Doc? I thought you and him did all KINDS of freaky shit." The Scout was distracted from his predicament. "Pain... Heavy is resistant to any amount of pain. It follows, he permits me to do as I like vith scalpels, to paint with his blood. But he will not let me... change him." "Like this?" Scout smiled, a ghost of his usual cocky grin returning, as he gestured to himself. He couldn't help it; the youngest of eight brothers, the youngest of a nine-man team, he didn't often get to be the centre of attention. "Like this, yes." The Medic checked the progress of the drip bags. "I believe this is complete. Sufficient for a first attempt, at any rate." He pinched off the tubes. Full of warm saline solution, the Scout's balls were larger than the Soldier's, his cock more girthy than the Demoman's. "Agh- Doc, that feels so fuckin' weird, just take the needles out, please!" "Patience, mein Scout..." the Medic breathed heavily as he withdrew the needles, then licked up the two beads of blood that formed, one on the Scout's swollen scrotum, the other just below the crown of his engorged cock. The Scout groaned, a strange, inhuman sound. "Doc, you can't-" "You keep saying this," the Medic leered. "And yet, I have. How does it feel?" The older man repeated. "It- oh fuck. It feels so fuckin' weird, tight and hot and so fuckin' sensitive." "It will feel even better, once you have an erection." The Medic freed the Scout's hands. "Touch yourself." "I'm not sure about this, Doc, it just looks so god-damn freaky..." the Scout hesitantly put his hand to his groin. He stroked experimentally, then with increasing vigour. "Oh, oh yeah, oh FUCK yeah!" "Slowly, Scout," the Medic put a lubricated, gloved hand over the Scout's own. "Savour it, liebling." The Scout moaned and writhed under the German's expert touch. "Stroke yourself, while I support your scrotum." "NOT a problem," the Scout moaned. "But, can you untie my legs?" "Ach, if I must," the Medic smiled ruefully. "You look so appealing, strapped down like that." "Yeah, yeah, save it for Heavy." The Scout flexed his toes as he lowered his legs to sit on the edge of the table. "Fuck, this is amazing." He looked down at his own bulging crotch. "Yes, Scout, as I promised." The Medic was panting slightly. "May I make one further request?" "No more blood, you perv." "Nein, as I said, Heavy is more than happy to permit that. I merely wish to... record." "You're not taking any pictures, you sick fuck." The Scout stroked himself. "God DAMN this is good." "Nein, no pictures. I vish to make an elektrokardiogram recording." He gestured to a blocky grey machine with wires attached to it. "A what? Ohhh..." The Scout was only half paying attention. "I vill record your heartbeat as you do this. It is... important to me." "No needles or whatever?" "No, none." The Medic held up two small pads at the end of some wires. "I will coat these electrodes in a harmless gel and tape them to your skin. They will not shock you, they record only." "Fine, I guess, but you have to keep touchin' my balls like you promised." "Have I done anything but what I promised?" The Medic smiled as he daubed the electrolyte gel on the pads and affixed them to the Scout. He took his time, caressing the younger man's chest, abdomen, arms and legs as he attached the leads. "Come ON, Doc, stop teasing!" The Scout squirmed. "Patience, patience." The Medic switched on the machine, and double-checked that it was printing out the steady spikes of the Scout's heartbeat. Smiling viciously, he squeezed the Scout's engorged cock. The Scout cried out in pain and pleasure, and the spikes on the printout leapt. "Yesss..." the Medic closed his eyes in pleasure, his broad hands cupping the Scout's heavy genitals. "You like this?" "Aww fuck, Doc, do that with your thumbs again," the Scout begged. The Medic did as he was asked, massaging and squeezing Scout's aching, swollen balls. The Scout's eyes were tightly shut, his mouth hanging open as he handled the unusual thickness of his cock. "Fuck FUCK fuck, so big, never thought it could be so big-" he fingered the sensitive crown of his penis, the only part still at normal size. "Gonna come, Doc, I'm gonna-" "Yes, YES," the Medic hissed, and dropped his head to take the Scout's cock in his mouth. The Scout screamed again, arching his body up off of the table, supporting his weight on one hand and his toes on the step. His orgasm was accompanied by an insane babble, compounded of "yes," "fuck," and "no," mixed with "stop," "please," and "more." When his orgasm was finished, the Medic gave the Scout's balls one final, loving squeeze. "Sehr gut, sehr gut..." he sighed, detaching the EKG leads. "Oh, fuck, Medic, never, I have NEVER come so hard," the Scout panted. "You, uh..." in the aftermath of orgasm, he was realising what he had done, what he had let the Medic do. "On your chin." "Ja, thank you." The Medic wiped up a drop of semen and licked his finger. "I can understand if you need to be alone at this time. I quite need to be alone, myself." His fingers tightened convulsively on the stack of heartbeat printouts. "Yeah, sure..." The Scout gingerly put on his trousers and left. Behind him, the Medic locked the infirmary door and sat down to fully enjoy the record of what had just transpired.
>>5 Please, have a rundown of my basic thoughts as I read this: -Needles freak me out, but my desire for good Heavy/Medic sexytimes is enough to overcome... right? -Oh. OH YES. This may just be the fetish I never knew I had. -See above, on repeat, as I continue picturing Medic limp and pliable in Heavy's hands. -And then the last line made me really ridiculously happy all over again.
[Just horror, no sex here] BUG FORTRESS Something odd was happening on the RED base, the BLU Spy was willing to concede that much. Neither their Medic nor their Heavy had been seen for a week, and there didn't seem to be any replacements, unlike the Engineer, who had disappeared about the same time, to be replaced in short order. Moreover, the Demoman reported seeing a massive spider, the size of a man, scuttling around the ceilings of the enemy base. Then again, who knew what the scrumpy might make him see. After all, he'd also reported seeing a giant octopus with Spy's own face in the sewers. He said it hadn't bothered him, since it was on their side. However, the Sniper was both in possession of both eyeballs and usually sober, and he, too, had reported seeing something strange on the battlements across the way. He did not make any fevered claims about giant spiders. Instead, he gave a factual if puzzling report of something round, white, perhaps as much as a metre wide, that moved to quickly to get a bead on. A balloon? Not possible, mate. Anything that light, subject to that much wind resistance, would have bobbed about like a cork in a stream. This, whatever it was, moved quickly in purposeful straight lines. The Spy made a mental note to find out about the RED's... whatever-it-was, at the earliest opportunity. However, when the Demoman didn't show up for the next battle, it became clear that no-one had seen him since at least mid-day, the day before. He hadn't come through Respawn, and his stash of scrumpy was untouched. Consulting quickly with his team during the count-down, the Spy made a slight alteration to his own battle plan. He would disable the RED sentry, kill their Engineer and Sniper, then go looking for the Demoman and any mysterious round, white weapons. The REDs had a new Engineer, a baby-faced boy fresh off the farm- it was almost pathetic how easy it was to break his toys and send him home to mama. The Sniper, however, was a cagy old beast. He had wedged himself into a corner where the Spy couldn't get behind him for a decent backstab. Instead, the espionage agent retreated down the hall, out of earshot, and disguised himself as the RED Pyro. Mimicking the mumbling abomination's shuffling tread, he approached the Sniper again. "Fpy chkk," he muttered. The Sniper didn't move from the eyepiece of his scope, but he did flare his nostrils and inhale deeply. Instantly, faster than the Spy had thought the Australian could move, he had his kukri out and was slashing perilously close to the Spy's face, in the air above where the illusory Pyro's head appeared. The Spy blocked the blow, sustaining a painful chop of the cleaver-like weapon on his left forearm. However, that bought him the time he needed to draw the Ambassador as his useless disguise dissolved. The large-calibre pistol settled the matter, removing the Sniper's face as its mighty report rang out. Cloaking again as quickly as possible, the Spy clutched his wounded arm to his chest and left the Sniper's corpse behind in the little bolt-hole. He hoped that he could find a med-pack soon. As he stepped out into the hallway, though, he saw a flash of something white moving up in the rafters. Clamping his handkerchief on the wound with his free hand, he followed whatever-it-was. Treading silently, he stared all around him. He rounded a corner and saw nothing, but felt something sticky brushed his face. Even as he flicked away the adhesive strand, he looked up to see what it might be, and froze in his tracks. The BLU Sniper had been right- it was round, white, just about a metre across. However, the Demoman had not been wrong- it scuttled across the ceiling on arachnoid legs, black, jointed, smooth as plastic except for the stiff black hairs protruding from the backs of them. However, what neither of them had mentioned was the RED Medic's body, protruding from the spider body at the waist, clad in his usual Teutonically formal shirt and tie. Biting his tongue forcefully, the Spy withheld a gasp of disgust. He was glad to be invisible. Glad, that is, until the thing launched itself from the ceiling and dropped on him with unerring accuracy. It pinned him to the ground with eight spindly, pincer-tipped legs, its immense abdomen hanging over his face like a diseased moon. At this intimate angle, the Spy could see that the white body was composed of chitinous segments with a yellowish membrane stretched taut between them, like the skin over a pustule. There was a marking in the centre of the underside, he noticed as the monster turned to face him, in the shape of a perfect red cross. "Guten tag, Herr Spy," it said to him as his cloak dissolved. "Sight is such a limited sense, don't you think?" "Quoi-" the BLU gagged. "Splendid, am I not? Respawn is an amazingly flexible system, as our... former... Engineer discovered." "You intend to weaponise being a freak?" The Spy subtly flexed his muscles, looking for a point of leverage to escape from the strong, spindly legs. There was none. "I already have," the Medic-spider said haughtily. "You, though, are about to become a small part of a much greater weapon." Abandoning his careful test of the monster's strength, the Spy began struggling in earnest. "Zis will only sting for a moment," the Medic-monster said, cheeks rippling and stretching as insectile mandibles slid out of his mouth between his teeth and lips. The Spy screamed as the Medic's face approached his own. The Medic's gloved human hands shoved his head to the side, pulled away his coat, and the Spy felt a sting as the thing's mandibles pierced both shirt and skin on his shoulder. Almost immediately, a burning-cold numbness began to radiate out from the wound. The Spy screamed again, but the sound was strangled, sloppy. He tried to kick out as the monster walked about on top of him, but he could barely do more than wiggle his toes. He was treated to an up-close view of the thing's spinnerets, writhing obscenely as they began to extrude silk. Using hands and spider legs in tandem, it wrapped him up like a parcel. Once he was done, he used his spider limbs to heave the Spy over his human shoulder and scuttled off down the corridor. The Spy tried to think, but couldn't concentrate over the pounding f his heart in his ears. His tongue felt overlarge, filling his mouth, and he couldn't feel any of the rest of his body at all. His eyelids seemed to be the only part of his body that still responded to his will. He kept his eyes open, hoping to see something, anything that he could use to his advantage. All he could see was the Medic-spider's swollen, pallid body. "Hallo, Lieber," the Medic cooed, halting as he opened a door. "Are you hungry?" "Da." The RED Heavy's voice rumbled, somehow thicker than usual. The monster Medic dropped the Spy to the floor. He landed awkwardly, staring at the ceiling. By rolling his eyes to the side as they could go, he was able to see the RED Heavy. What had been the RED Heavy. Glistening folds of flabby white tissue stretched at least twelve feet long. The Heavy's head sat atop the heap, his neck merging corpulently with his shoulders. His massive arms were still in place, along with his saggy pectoral muscles, but underneath the arms were four stick-thin legs that waggled aimlessly, and his gut merged into a segmented, pulpy tail. The Spy discovered that he could still feel his stomach when it cramped- he had to suppress the urge to vomit. The giant maggot that the Heavy had become had been sucking on something held in its human hand- the Spy had taken it for a brown leather sack of some sort. Then, the Heavy dropped the thing to the floor, and the Spy realised that the lone eye of his own team's Demoman staring out of the mess. It stared at him crazily, then blinked, causing a tear to roll down the Scot's ruined face. Some dark fluid, flecked with white, oozed out of the wound that the Heavy had been sucking. "Isn't he vonderful?" the Medic crooned to the Spy as he used a scalpel to slice away the silk bindings. "I believe he is about to pupate, and he vill need to be strong for zis ordeal." The Medic beamed over at the grubworm monstrosity. "Zat is vhere you come in." The Spy managed an inchoate noise, which the Medic accepted as a request for further lecturing. "My venom paralyzes ze prey, slowly dissolving ze muscle und ze bone. Ze organs und ze brain are last to go, keeping ze meal alive, fresh und, incidentally, out of the Respawn. Since it has been more than 24 hours, the Respawn system may have already saved Herr Demoman's condition as his default state. It vill be interesting to see." Bending down, the Medic jabbed his scalpel down through the Demoman's panicked eye, then waited until the Respawn system dissolved the corpse. "Zat, of course, is just scientific curiosity. Ve have work to do." The Medic-spider turned back to the grubworm. "Komm, Liebling, I love to watch you eat." Exercising the last option open to him, the Spy shut his eyes.
Excellent! Seeing your work pop up is always a treat! Your guro is par-none.
I have longed for a continuation to Bug Fortress for ages. Any plans for one?