FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Silence stalks throughout the halls of the warehouse save quick, calculated steps. Mitrion clings to the wall, keeping within range of his quarry. His eyes glow dimly through his visor. He looks around the corner. Dark blue and red scales catch the light, revealing his stern features briefly before they are doused once again in darkness.

His form is distinctively humanoid, face included, yet there is an unbelievable thickness to his muscles and the scales that line them. Such features were given to him by the exobytes, making him a sort of outcast among his old peers.

Thankfully, his gear obscures his most alienating features. Comprised in equal parts of a flexible, shock absorbing body suit and armored plating, it has been a useful, reliable suit of armor.

Anticharge is a fair distance ahead. Mitrion frowns. His nemesis, this demon-turned gun-for-hire, moves ahead without a care. What should essentially be a moment of victory and calm turns into one of anxiousness and worry.

Good, the job's not even close to done yet.

To those that know Gotham, a moment of silence is often an omen. Unlike Metropolis where noise puts one at ease, the presence and lack thereof for too long increases paranoia. Go figure the outcast sweats as his target marches on.

Information is the real key here. Mitrion caught wind that some important tidbits would be exchanging hands, with Anticharge as their protector.

The outcast floats to his next spot, pressing closely to the wall again. The two have wandered into the basement by now. As such, the lighting sucks.

Regardless the outcast scans the room. No guards or any other additional people. Perhaps they cleared out ahead of time to protect their identities? Whatever. If nothing else, the mission will be easier. Mitrion focuses on Anticharge's destination - the center of the room. There is one box among many, yet it has a small one on top of it.

The outcast narrows his eyes. His visor zooms in on the little box and then the mercenary.

At least until his target mumbles, "Finally. Time to go."

Mitrion lunges forward. The ripples of wind his charge creates slowly press against his sides and then whip outwards, causing everything around him to bash against the walls. Anticharge turns with a hand on his holster before he's even seen the cause. A fist to the face loosens his grip, sending him flying back into the boxes. The outcast grins, but almost immediately drops it as he notes the box is missing.

His target managed to hang onto it. No wonder he loosened his grip. "Got ahead of yourself there, didn't you?" Anticharge says.

Mitrion huffs out a breath and pushes forward again. Anticharge braces for impact. The two crash through splintering pieces of ply wood. The box goes flying off to the side. The target hits the ground and slides towards the far wall. The outcast, satisfied with the impact, turns and rushes towards the container. Gusts join him.

A slight tinge of pain hits his side. A quick glance to its source reveals a hook, attached to a zip line, embedded into his armor plating. Mitrion curses softly and attempts to disengage it. He feels the sudden tug of the mercenary's weight. The outcast attempts to dodge, but feels their bodies collide. The stability of his flight is compromised. Anticharge hooks his hands onto the outcast's belt, using the momentary stumble to grasp his shoulder.

Mitrion spins in an attempt to loosen the mercenary's grip, only finding the man's arm wrapped around his neck. "Easy, boy." Anticharge says. "Be gentle."

Unbeknownst to either man, both their hearts skip a beat. Mitrion realizes the double entendre. Anticharge realizes that the outcast tenses. The request will not be taken to heart.

The mercenary is smashed into the ground with the entirety of the hulking outcast's weight knocking the wind out of him. It is a crude move, but incredibly timed.

The two slide briefly, spiraling and hitting the nearest wall. The outcast recovers the crash quicker. He notes the box nearby and snags it. Just as he attempts to fly off, a bullet smacks into his right pec. It crashes against his armor and falls to the ground. It packed less of a punch than the mercenary's usual heat.

However, the punch that follows hurts far more. Electricity crackles over Anticharge's knuckles and dances along Mitrion's skin the moment his face is clocked. He grits his teeth only to push out a gasped breath as he feels the mercenary's boot, lined with the toughest metals, crash into his stomach. The majority of the blows is absorbed by the outcast's armor, yet it's far lighter than other sections in order to be more flexible.

Mitrion kneels down in pain, briefly at his target's mercy as flames envelop him. They are for his benefit rather than to Anticharge's detriment, providing a soothing warmth to the injuries. The two of them have fought enough times for the mercenary to note the difference. He stays within range and wears a cocky smile.

"On your knees again," Anticharge huffs out a laugh. He kicks the box away. "And so soon."

"Fuck you." Mitrion grunts.

"Can I get an ETA on that?"

The outcast suddenly charges again. Unlike before it's a short burst, done just long enough to drive his hard head straight into Anticharge's gut. The mercenary flies back, hitting the walk with a strained grunt. He drops to the ground and quickly ducks. The wall shatters just above him, Mitrion's fist having gone clear through it. The mercenary laughs nervously. So his adversary means business? Alright then.

He claps his palms together. A charge jumps between them. He places his palms to the outcast's chest.

Mitrion roars again, his voice wavering with pain. His muscles bulge, paralyzed as the shock surges through him. Again, the armor absorbs most of it, yet the electricity seems to be able to avoid being grounded regardless.

The outcast manages to gain enough control to swing his other arms forward. Flames erupt from the muscles. It balls up and then explodes, sending Anticharge through the wall. The mercenary lands a considerable distance away. Tatters of his gear hang from his form, revealing the lithe, yet toned, and ash colored body beneath. With his helmet trashed, the mercenary wipes it away. His skull, lightly cracked and matching the color of his skin, lifts briefly before he lays back. His solid, yellow, crystalline eyes dim a bit.

In a moment of ill-advised appreciation, Mitrion gazes at his adversary. He wonders if he has truly won. He certainly has enough time to grab the info and run, yet there's a certain disappointment in that. Trading blows with Anticharge, vying for victory with each one, is just so...

The mercenary groans. Mitrion snaps out of it, grunting as he feels his groin plate bending slightly. Odd, that sudden stiffness...

He moves, noting the increased sensitivity of his thighs as well. The outcast curses the moment softly, ignoring the sensations as he grabs the container and runs to escape the basement.

Anticharge looks on with a grin. He stands, sucks in a hard breath, collects his guns, and gives chase.

Mitrion leaps from a platform. The door atop it leads deeper into the basement. The stairs to the first floor are ahead. The concrete fractures beneath his feet and between his fingers. His heart emphasizes the landing with another skipped beat. He curses the slight stall and leaps, flying up the stairs a moment later. As he passes through the door, he hears a familiar hook latch onto the door frame just behind him.

Even with such skill, flight's convenience is done in by its lack of flexibility. Mitrion glances behind him, noting Anticharge. His heart races. The mercenary grins. This almost distracts the outcast enough for him to hit a wall. He ends flight a second before, pushing off, gracefully landing, and continuing his run.

Adrenaline fills every muscle to the brim, forcing his thick frame to move as fast as possible. He's not sure why. The stakes of being caught are for another battle to ensue. The outcast briefly entertains slowing down or cornering himself, yet shakes this from his mind.

Right, the first floor. He's being tailed closely. His breath is heavy. Each step seems to take so much more out of him, yet doesn't hamper him at all. Why? Anticharge is close. He can't be caught.

Only a fight will ensue. Or will it? The mercenary's infatuation...

Mitrion grunts, waking himself up. The sounds his adversary's steps are distant. He doesn't question it. He simply aims for the nearest window and breaks through it. The air takes hold and lifts him. The outcast nearly breathes a sigh of relief before another window crashes.

A huge weight lands on his back. In mid-flight this would be no problem, but when he's taking off? It knocks his balance off. Mitrion spirals towards the ground. He attempts to twirl so that he doesn't hit the ground first, yet feels it meet his face and torso. The impact happens far sooner than expected. Right, the extra weight.

He releases a groan. The wounds aren't fatal, nor severe, but he'll heal. Unfortunately, in this moment of weakness, his arms are forced behind his back and restricted by a pair of cuffs. A brief struggle against them reveals that they are far stronger than anticipated. Mitrion growls, "Release me."

"No way," Anticharge says. "Not before I have my fun."

He rolls the outcast over and slams him back against the ground, being a bit rougher than he needed to be. The next instant, his hand gently caresses Mitrion's crotch plate. Beneath it, the hero's cock throbs against the metal.

"Wh-hat the fuck! Let me-"

"Hush. You're in no position to order me around. So obey." Anticharge gently caresses the edges of the male's mask. Mitrion bites back all the verbal bile that floods his mind. After a moment, the mercenary nods appreciatively and continues, "Mm, I wonder how long you've held this back, how many times being rough and getting roughed up has turned you on."

The mercenary's hands explore the hero's thighs. The palms are softer than anticipated, especially given how hard Anticharge punches. The outcast bites his lower lip and blushes deeply, holding back a moan. "N-no, please stop..." He gasps.

"Why? So that you can angst over these feelings?" Anticharge leans in close to the mask. He grins and gropes the outcast's crotch, drawing out a reluctant moan. "Now that I know that I make you horny, I can't let that be."

"We c-can't..."

The mercenary scoffs. "And why is that? Morals? We're both driven by money, just by opposite ends. Don't give me that crap about caring for the citizens either. They don't care for you, or else you'd be in the papers. Yes, I check. Confused? Don't be. We've fought and bled because of one another, but that's because of the thrill. Perhaps you hate me, but I don't hate you. I want you." Anticharge chuckles lowly. The groping continues, as does Mitrion's vein attempts to withhold his reactions. "You add a special thrill to my life, as I do to yours. When we clash I feel most alive. I think the same applies to you. Think about it. We could've killed each other how many times now? Yet we don't. We want that excitement. We want to feel the rush as we compete for dominance. There are so many stakes already, but adding sex in..."

Mitrion gasps. Anticharge tilts his head. "Hm?"

"I-I..." The outcast groans. "I don't know..."

Anticharge grins. "I will convince you - and raise the stakes twice over. You'll learn the cost of your failure - and love it."

The mercenary takes the nearby box and retrieves a small chip from it. He stands Mitrion up and leads him away, smacking the hunk's ass to emphasize his point.

* * *

The heavy thudding of the club's bass and colorful dance floor greets Mitrion as he's guided inside. The eyes of all the men within immediately glue to the outcast, though none show any real knowledge of him. It's base curiosity at best. It's returned in full, though mostly due to a fair amount of the naked patrons.

Yep, this is happening. The hunk briefly considers escaping, but he's being kept under control by the cuffs. If too much movement is detected, they will administer a shock to subdue the man. Perhaps he could fight through the effects and manage to get away regardless...

Mitrion shakes his head. Too... risky. Instead, he remains obedient and is led to the bar counter. The bartender - a handsome, studly alien with light red skin, large fangs, focused eyes, and a snout - glances over and perks a brow. He's lacks a shirt. Presumably, his rippling muscularity is the main draw for customers.

"I told you, Anticharge," He says. His deep voice booms over the bass. "You can't bring heroes here to collect rewards."

"Don't worry, Xal." The mercenary glances over and winks. "He's more of a trophy. I want to share him a little bit."

Mitrion growls. Xal smirks. "Ah. Try not to make too much of a mess, alright?"

"Sure, sure." Anticharge says.

He notes the bartender looking unfavorably at his clothing and snaps. Electricity swirls around the male's form, leaving him nude as it sprouts towards the ceiling and dissipates. He places his hands on his hips. His lithe, yet toned, body proves rather easy to enjoy. Mitrion makes the mistake of gazing at it - specifically the mercenary's cute rump - and feels his cock throb against his crotch plate again.

"Better?" Anticharge asks.

The bar tender rolls his eyes, grins and returns to work, flirting with his latest batch of customers. The mercenary, on the other hand, whistles at two nearby studs - both of which are hunky, alien bruisers in combat suits, and gestures towards Mitrion. The men quickly come over. "Yes boss?" One says.

"Hold him down."

"Yes sir."

The two push Mitrion onto the nearby couch. The surface squeaks. Sliding against plastic proves momentarily uncomfortable. The outcast is held down by the shoulders with his back against the arms. His butt rests on the couch's main cushions. He struggles lightly, earning a few laughs from the henchmen.

"So." Anticharge says.

He steps over to the couch. One hand gropes the outcast's crotch while the other applies lube to the mercenary's cock. It's so long...

The outcast pushes his hips up into the treatment and intently watches. Anticharge notices and strokes his dick a little slower. The villain chuckles and leans in. "Man, you are transparent. I wonder, are you even trying to hide the pleasure?" The palm gently runs up the front of the outcast's body. He arches into the touch. "But more importantly, will you remove your armor or will I have to tear it apart?"

A moment of silence overtakes Mitrion. He should resist, but they all know how this will end. He can't afford to replace such an expensive suit or have his identity exposed.

"Suit, retract regions thirty and thirty one." He says.

The mercenary grins. "Good man."

The crotch and hind plates divide themselves and retract into the torso piece. The only thing keeping the two rivals apart is a snug pair of boxer briefs. The fabric strains under the pressure Mitrion's boner puts on it. After laying eyes on it, Anticharge nearly gasps. Ten thick inches of cock, alongside two hefty balls, are somehow held within. He presses a single finger against the base and slowly runs it up the underside of the member. It throbs against his touch. Pre stains the front of the underwear. The outcast, for his credit, holds back a moan.

"Mm, you're hard as hell already. Did I tease you too much?"

Anticharge perks a brow and moves his hand between Mitrion's legs, gently stroking the male's perineum. The outcast tenses and pushes a moan between his gritted teeth. The mercenary notes some fog on the hero's visor and grins. He looks to his henchmen and says, "Let's see how long this lasts, hm?"

The two grunts nod in agreement. The second rubs the outcast's shoulder and says, "You're fucked, bud."

Anticharge snorts and motions to the two to step away. They obey, opting to stand nearby and stroke each other's cocks in the meantime.

The mercenary grasps the waistband of the boxer briefs, rips the pair in two, and tosses it aside. He climbs onto the couch and presses his hips to Mitrion's. Their dicks cross, throbbing against one another as pre drips from the tips.

Anticharge leans in and presses his hands to the arms rest, hanging over his rival. He looks directly into the male's eyes, smirking widely. His hips roll, driving the two hard members together. The sensitive cocks squish between the two bodies, pleasured by the friction from all sides. Cum and lube spread along the skin. Their balls touch, providing an oddly satisfying sensation that makes the hero harder still.

Mitrion arches his back, attempting to gyrate against the other male. Sadly the mercenary insists on doing all the work. As such it seems as if the outcast is struggling instead.

His body loves the attention yet craves more. The outcast bites his lip again, letting out silent moans when possible to maintain control. It's a bit disappointing for Anticharge, but he notes the way the male's muscles bulge.

"How does it feel knowing I'm so close?" The mercenary asks. He slows his hips. Their dicks still grace one another, yet with enough pause to give Mitrion a breather. "Knowing that you're at my mercy. That I'm going to use you, claim you, fuck you for crossing me. I'm going to dominate you, big guy. That really turns you on, don't it? It shouldn't, but you can't help but revel in your loss and punishment like a horny slut."

The outcast chokes back words, knowing he'd simply moan them out. He grunts and manages a choked, "F-fuck..."

Anticharge grins. "Let's."

He places his hands on Mitrion's thighs, leans back, and retracts his hip. They crash forward. All at once that long cock fills the outcast. His anus stretches to accommodate the member, contracting around it an instant later. It feels so alien and hurts like a bitch, yet unlocks an overwhelming flood of pleasure. The ridges and tip reach every bit of the hero's passage, nailing his g spot and other sweet spots effortlessly. The shape of the cock also exploits the muscles' attempts to heal. Its uneven surface stretches them out, gives them some leeway and then delivers the same intense sensation the next instant.

Mitrion relaxes and breathes consistently during the first thrust, managing to maintain his composure. The second thrust is another story. It comes quicker than expected, delivering another rush of pleasure. It overlaps with the previous waves and swells. The hero throws his head back against the arm rest and moans.

The pleasurable little sound is cut off with a quick "A-ah!" The outcast is filled with the cock once again. He raises his head, watching with a heavy blush as Anticharge proceeds to roughly fuck him. Those hips slap against his ass with strength he didn't know the mercenary had. It's a surprise that elicits another pleased little groan from the towering hunk as his dick bobs against his stomach and leaks pre onto the shining armor.

Anticharge feels so big inside him. Each thrust causes Mitrion to gasp as his rival hilts within him. Pressure builds between his legs, expanding slowly. At times, the mercenary halts the flow of the sex and grinds into the outcast. The pressure simmers during these points, threatening to explode.

Then just when it might, the fucking continues. Anticharge pulls out completely and slams back in, only to indulge in a quick flurry of thrusts that leaves both men gasping for air. Hot breathes fills the inside of Mitrion's helmet, fogging up the visor once again. He continuously strains his muscles as his passage contracts around his rival's cock. The mercenary opens his mouth and lets his tongue hang out. At times the appendage runs along his wicked grin.

The cycle repeats. A long, rough thrust with another flurry of sex following it. The outcast arches his spine and cries out. The other patrons begin to notice, gathering to watch the two men fuck out their rivalry.

Despite the intensity of the pleasure surging through him, the outcast finds himself most pleased by all the eyes on him. It's one thing to be punished so roughly, but for the spectacle to be somewhat public? It turns him on more than he'd ever care to admit.

His mind is torn from that as Anticharge suddenly pulls out. Having his passage so utterly full of dick felt odd at first, but now the absence of it is far more uncomfortable. He squirms, attempting to contain his disappointment and needy words. Just when he opens his mouth to beg, Mitrion instead moans. He feels their hard members rub together, soaked in more pre and lube than before.

"Pl-please..." he gasps.

Anticharge glances at him, seemingly confused. "Not enough, huh? You fooled me with those moans, stud."

Mitrion glares despite his cock stiffening and dripping pre. The expression leaves him, making way for another moan thanks to the mercenary penetrating his body once again. The shaft rubs down his ballsack and perineum and then sinks into his passage for another thrust. It's softer than before, yet hits all the right spots. It's incredible, the amount of skill the mercenary has...

The frotting resumes. The outcast struggles against his cuffs. He wants nothing more than to break them and rub the two shafts together until both men cum. Instead, he's made to savor the smooth gyrations of Anticharge's hips.

The dicks throb against each other. Anticharge's eyes dim. He's close, yet he readjusts himself and thrusts in a few more times. These are slow and methodical, hitting all the points necessary to get Mitrion to the edge of the cliff. The next thrust provides the right push. The hunk snaps his eyes shut and grunts, growling, "A-Anti... I'm going t-to cum..."

The mercenary chuckles. "I know."

He rubs their cocks together for a good long while, continuously nudging both of them forward. Each passing moment builds the pressure, bringing it just that much closer to bursting while also holding it at bay. Moans and groans fill the air between the two as they wait, actively driving themselves forward by grinding.

They cum at roughly the same time. Two thick streams of cum stain Mitrion's armor. Their loads spill bit by bit, reaching the outcast's helmet and chest before settling down. The mixed cum begins to drip down the hunk's curves, driven further by the heaving of his chest. His breathing slows to a more manageable rate, matching Anticharge's before long. The two glance at each other.

The henchmen behind the outcast groan as they rub one out for each other. Mitrion hopes that they don't get yet more cum on his suit.

"Next time-" The mercenary grins. "-I'm not going to pull out."

Mitrion blushes and looks away. His helmet hides a bashful smile. While managing a disbelieving tone, the outcast says, "Next time."

Anticharge scoffs. "You're cruising for a sore ass."

The outcast pauses. There's an odd playfulness in those words. Before he can dwell on it too long, Xal stands by their side, arms crossed over his chest. "Nice show you had going there, gentlemen." He says. "Got a few patrons who really liked it and asked if they could be next. What do you think?"

The alien's eyes are trained on Mitrion, but it is Anticharge who answers. "Great idea. I'd say put his ass behind a paywall of drinks; whoever buys enough gets to fuck him." The mercenary glances at his rival, smirking widely. "But only if I get a cut of the profit."

"Now wait a minute-" Mitrion starts.

He's hushed by his rival, who gives him a stern glare. It's almost contradictory when the mercenary gently wraps his fingers around the outcast's dick and slowly pumps it. While semi-hard a moment ago, the thick shaft stiffens up quickly. After just a few more rubs and squeezes, it's leaking pre again. Its owner groans.

"You are at the mercy of your body," The mercenary leans in. He growls softly. "And your body is mine. You lost. You can't stop me from offering your ass to every man in this bar - and you love that."

Mitrion shivers. From just a quick glance up, there is a lot of good looking studs present, some already bereft of clothing.

Anticharge's henchmen force the outcast up from the couch, having him stand before the Xal. "Where would you like him?" The first one asks.

The bar tender steals a glance at Mitrion's boner and then tilts his head towards the counter. "Near the drinks, propped up on the stools."

The mercenary adds, "And make sure he's secured."

The henchmen curtly nod and direct the outcast over to the bar. They're surprised to find the hero doesn't at all resist their movements, even as his wrists are briefly freed from the cuffs. They prop him up onto the stools, making sure he's on his knees and leaning forward with both arms on the counter. The cuffs are slapped back on and attached to the bar. Mitrion tugs on them slightly, puffing out a breath when he finds it's actually pretty damn sturdy. Go figure.

The two hunky men rejoin their boss at a table, going on to drink and discuss business as usual.

While being strapped in, the outcast can't help but play over all of Anticharge's teasing in his head. Every sentence - hell, every word - should anger him, yet they only resonate. They draw from a well of sensations deep within him and uncover unabashed excitement. It's been with him since the fight. Perhaps it has desensitized him already.

The thought causes him to pause. Being fucked by his rival and set up as a sexual reward for the patrons causes him to shiver. These things seemed so inconceivable, yet he can't wait for more. Perhaps, in the future, he'll foil Anticharge only to allow himself to be captured after the fact and punished.

A rage briefly flares within him. This isn't right. He should want revenge. He's been violated and humiliated! Anticharge deserves a taste of his own medicine, to be defeated and claimed. Mitrion imagines forcing the mercenary against the wall and claiming his tight little ass. He imagines teasing the villain until the male can't quite stand it anymore and then preventing his orgasm. He'd fuck the smug bastard's face and then cum all over it. That would be so satisfying...

Yet that's wrong as well. Still, neither train of thought brings him shame.

He nearly jumps when Xal lays a hand on his rump, rubbing the firm, bubbly cheeks as he speaks to the bar. "Listen up, everyone." The alien barks.

The music briefly stops. Everyone hushes and turns towards him. The bar tender chooses then to slip a thick digit into the hero's ass. He gently rubs the male's prostate, coaxing him into arching his back and releasing a hushed moan. It's a genius bit of display - and forces the ideas of revenge from Mitrion's mind for now.

Xal goes on. "We've got a new bar pet. You may recognize him. He's big, he's tough, but best of all loves cock. From this point to the end of the hour, if you buy ten drinks you get queued for a piece of his ass. Don't wait too long! Now, enjoy the rest of your night."

The music and conversation continues. The bar tender removes his hand and turns, only to have another handsome alien briefly stop him. This one is as studly as him, but has features more akin to a human's. The only difference is the solid black color of his eyes and the smoother, flatter nose. Tropical colors run along his skin and segment into beautiful markings. A smirk crosses his lips. He has a rather simple get up for the night, wearing a sleeveless, open vest showcasing his impressive abs and arms, as well as a flexible pair of pants and some heavy boots.

"Xal." He says. The alien respectfully tilts his head to the side.

"Hesed." The bar tender returns the sign of respect. He belatedly adds, "Captain."

"I'd like two rounds for my crew, if you please."

Xal smirks. "Itching for a turn with the new guy?"

"Of course." He chuckles and steps over to Mitrion, gently rubbing the male's rump. The hero glances over his shoulder. "I'm first in the queue, am I not?"

The bar tender nods. "Your crew will get their drinks soon." He gestures towards the outcast and hands over a small lube bottle. "Have fun, handsome."

Mitrion wishes to voice his grievances, yet can't bring himself to. The alien, by his standards, is incredibly attractive. Although this isn't an ideal first fuck, the details are easy to overlook in favor of the fun..

"The famous Mitrion." Hesed says. He grins when the hero tilts his head. "I'm a fan of heroes in compromising situations. It helps that you're one of the more attractive ones."

The alien unzips his pants, fishes his cock out, empties the little bottle of liquid onto it and pumps it slowly. The outcast's heart leaps. The sight of the thick cock's skin being manipulated by the palm is tantilizing. The member is a bit shorter than Anticharge's, yet looks like it's thickness will be able to make up for that. Beyond that, the man admitted to being attracted to him. It's especially a shame they simply didn't meet under normal bar hopping circumstances.

After a moment, the outcast says, "How do you know me?"

"We've never fought if that's what you're asking."

Nice sidestep. Given there's no vendetta, the hero lets it slide. Hesed steps behind Mitrion. His hands gently grasp and squeeze the hunk's ass. He runs his dick between the muscular cheeks. They tense slightly and then relax as the outcast is pleased by the feeling.

The outcast grips the edge of the bar. He pants lightly and says, "So you're okay with fucking a man for drinks?"

Hesed snerks. "Please, you would've punched those guards' lights out and tore down the door by now if you really wanted to be out of here. Unless, of course, taking Anti's dick scrambled your thoughts that much."

As the captain slowly gyrates his hips, rubbing his hard cock between the rounded cheeks and over the tender, abused hole between them, Mitrion finds himself holding his voice back again. His body sees fit to speak instead, coaxing the hero into arching his spine and wiggling that firm ass for the customer. The male takes the bait, happily sinking into its tight passage.

Hesed is considerably gentler than Anticharge with the first thrust. He watches for any negative reactions regardless. Instead he finds the male more than happy to press that sweet butt back against his hips. The captain retracts his hips and puffs out a breath. His palms clamp onto Mitrion's rump. Their bodies clap together. The alien leans his head back and releases a groan. Discovering a submissive stud with an incredible ass that squeezes his dick just right will more than make his night.

"Mm, you know what?" The hunky alien asks. He takes a moment to grind into the other male, coaxing out a moan. "I think the drinks were just a formality. This is a good way to find out you love being a slut though, hm?"

The outcast opens his mouth to reply only to grit his teeth. The alien's odd, ridged cock fills him again. It doesn't reach as deeply as Anticharge's, yet uses its girth to increase the intensity of pressure each sweet spot endures. The effect seems to increase ten-fold when Hesed pauses to briefly grind MItrion's prostate - never mind when his incredible member throbs within the hero's passage. Each little stretch causes a wave of pleasure to flow through the bottom's body, in turn making him harder and harder as the sex goes on. Pre drips and spurts from his shaft, hitting the counter or the floor.

The thickness of the shaft becomes fairly easy to manage after just a minute or two. Mitrion relaxes his back and wiggles his rump again. Hesed roughens his thrusts in turn, yet draws them out enough so that the outcast has no choice but to savor them. The hero can only conclude that he loves it, craving the next thrust right after each one ends.

The two men are in a state of perpetual bliss, groaning and grunting as they fuck. They seem to be in their own world, enjoying one another in such a passionate way that nothing can really grasp their attention.

Well, almost nothing.

Another man sits down nearby. Mitrion pays him no mind until he hears said man say, "Give a drink to your next ten customers."

The voice is familiar. Anxiousness swells in the hero's chest.

"Courtesy of enigma?" Xal asks.

The man pauses, almost as if he's displeased by this. "Yes."

That confirms it.

"You're up next in the queue then."

"Perfect."

The outcast glances to his side. His visor is all fogged up yet again, but he can clearly see the other man gazing back at him. Or... perhaps glaring.

Enigma, as the bounty hunter is known, is decked out in a full suit of dark combat armor tailored towards lithe bodies. It's composed of flexible plating as has been patched with care over the years. The only visual sign of the man within is the yellow glow of his eyes, shining through his helmet's visor.

Most details regarding Enigma are unknown, including his origin and species. He's a notorious fellow, known for working for nearly any organization for the right amount of cash. He takes his jobs seriously and has been injured in many grievous ways because of them. Yet he still works.

Go figure Mitrion foiled one of said jobs recently. No question about it - the bounty hunter is here for revenge. The same thrill from before wells up inside the hero, made all the more intense by Hesed thrusting in and grinding. The outcast can't help but groan. Engima seems amused.

If only Mitrion wasn't getting his ass pounded so wonderfully by a fellow stud, he'd be able to properly prepare for the confrontation instead of getting caught with his pants down. Figuratively.

Enigma presses a button on his wristband. His crotchplate divides and slides into his armor. The hero bites his lip and watches, confused briefly when he sees nothing there.

The next instant, a swirl of dark energy exits the suit and forms a long, thick member. Mitrion's eyes widen. An ethereal? Is that even possible?

The outcast doesn't have long to question it. Even as he's attention is led astray, he can't help but pant and moan as the captain bangs him. By all accounts the man is incredible at sex, managing to take the edge off of the outcast anxiousness.

The sex finally quickens, leading Hesed to thrust hard and fast enough that Mitrion is being bumped forward and pulled back often. With his ass being pumped full of dick so quickly, the hero finds himself powerless to hold back his moans. They release in a gentle flurry, greatly pleasing the captain. All the while the pleasure blurs considerably. The outcast surprisingly loves how all the sensations smash together: o ). He can't quite believe what he's been missing by holding off on fucking all these years.

Suddenly the pressure overflows. Mitrion grips the counter tightly and groans loudly. Cum drips from his cock in a small stream and then suddenly squirts out onto the bar. The hero's eyes clench shut. He cums hard. The captain feels the contractions milking his dick. He grabs the beefy ass and slams his dick into it, making the outcast's orgasm shoot out of him harder. The poor male pushes out his ass and practically drools as the thrusts keep coming, amplifying the pleasure to stupidly high amounts.

Sadly, the bar tender cuts in. "Pull out, Hesed. We got another one coming after you."

"Sh-shit!" The captain responds.

If only Xal had spoken a moment too late. The alien hunk reluctantly, though quickly, pulls out and thrusts his dick between Mitrion's butt cheeks. Thick streams of cum spill out and land on the back of the hero's suit. The lack of being filled somewhat disappoints the male, yet he finds it in himself to softly moan anyway as he feels Hesed's member jerking against his rump.

Not to dismiss how good it feels to have such a dirtied hole. All the warm pre and lube feels nice, it's just... a tad inadequate. Perhaps if the captain had been able to cum inside him, that would've been sated. As it stands, the horniness doesn't subside. It instead grows stronger, despite the male's cock softening into a semi-boner.

"Damn," Hesed breathes out. "Here."

He places a card on the counter and then massages Mitrion's ass. When Xal isn't looking, the captain scoops up some of his pre and gently fingers the hero. This elicits a moan.

"You ever want to get together again, give me a call. I'll schedule a meeting." He grins. "Hell, maybe you could even entertain my crew." Hesed removes his fingers and smacks the outcast's ass. While walking away, he glances to Engima. "He's all yours, buddy."

Enigma doesn't acknowledge this, instead approaching the outcast. "Mitrion." He says.

The bounter hunter settles behind the hero and feels the male's ass with interest. Although it feels good, the submissive hunk can't help but be wary. "Y-yes?"

The bounty hunter suddenly thrusts in. His cock is the biggest of the three, stretching out and penetrating the hero most effectively. It's entirely solid, despite how just a few moments ago it didn't even exist. Mitrion's not sure what he expected; there wouldn't be a point in fucking him with it otherwise.

But damn is it shocking. The shaft is so thick and reaches deep into the male's passage. Every muscle in his body tenses against the now-heated armor of his suit. He arches his back and raises his head, shouting out. His helmet instantly muffles the sound, yet Enigma still seems to hear it. The bounty hunter thrusts again. He catches the outcast off guard again and releases a low, echoing laugh from the bounty hunter.

"I've come to collect." He growls.

All Mitrion can manage is a, "M-me?"

"Your pride and body are... valuable. Making you my bitch will suffice."

In investments terms, it'll either keep the hero docile towards him or encourage him to interrupt the jobs more in order to be punished. Unless, of course, he's promised a bit of sex ahead of time...

The outcast groans and curses softly. The thought is so wrong, yet the possibilities it suggests are oh so attractive. Hell, they're demonstrated to him even now.

Without a single moment's rest, Mitrion is fucked without mercy. The smaller male's hips crash against him with such strength that he can hardly believe it. Enigma violates him with ease, sending ripples of pleasure throughout his body. They carry the pleasure typical of sex, but there's an odd quality to them. They relax the outcast, dull his inhibitions, and stiffen his cock like nothing else. Soon the rough, raw nature of the fucking feels incredible without a single drawback.

The outcast groans and gasps with every thrust, relishing the intensity of the moment. He bows his head and flexes his muscles, nearly bending the end of the counter until Xal swats his hands. Enigma pulls him back into every thrust. Their hips meet with loud, wet slaps. Mitrion wanted a dirty hole, but he feels himself blush as the other male's pre leaks into him. It spreads along his insides, warming his passage like the cock that pumps it.

That isn't all there is to the moment though. The savage pounding distracts the outcast, but once he focuses he feels the bounty hunter all around him. It seems impossible, yet what seems like a gentle breeze hugs his form, becoming tangible at the right times to incite a sensation, elicit a response, and move on. The feeling grinds against his perineum, cups and fondles his balls, engulfs and milks his bobbing, leaking cock, traces his abs and spine, gropes his pecs, and kisses his neck. The force even leaks into his helmet, where it conjures the feeling of lips against Mitrion's own. On the glass appears an odd, featureless face. It instills a bit of fear and burst of attraction.

The face comes closer and then vanishes. An ethereal tongue slips into the hero's mouth. He feels the lips and rubs his own against them. They have a distinct taste, yet once he focuses he forgets all about it.

Mitrion is left panting. He can't recall why he's so out of breath - sex aside. His lips quiver. His tongue craves the elusive taste. He's confused, yet finds himself infatuated with- "E-Enigma..."

The male gasps. His orgasm hits, prompted by invisible fingers curled around his cock and rubbing his thighs. The sensations return to him and then force him to shoot his load. The bounty hunter sinks in right then, holding the hero's hips snugly against his. Strings of cum fill Mitrion's ass, soothing his aching passage with wave after wave of warmth. The hero's moans and closes his eyes. He feels some seed spill onto his features. Some delights his tongue, the rest drips down his handsome face.

Enigma leans in. His voice bounces around the outcast's helmet. "Interesting... you're not as I expected..."

The feeling massaging every inch of Mitrion's body withdraws. The bounty hunter quickly pulls out and secures his crotch plate. The hero is left satisfied, yet the seed of yearning is planted.

The two men are left panting. In the intensity of the moment, they failed to notice most of the bar had cleared out. The bar tender gestures towards the door while rubbing his dick. Enigma nods and takes his leave.

"Until next time, Mitrion."

Xal watches the man leave and then disengages the cuffs holding the hero to the bar. "Good job. I think my patrons are going to be talking about you for weeks." The handsome alien grins and leans back against the far side of the counter. He slowly strokes his member. "You caused this though, so come and take care of it."

The hunky bartender's skin gleams under the dim light of the room. His thick muscles, defined to a t, are tense with anticipation. His cock is curved and hard as can be, dripping with pre as it throbs for attention.

Mitrion's hardly in the mindset to reject this. He stands and grunts slightly as his leaking hole stings. Soreness be damned, the hero jumps the counter and gets down on his knees. His visor raises, covering only the top half of his face, allowing his lips to wrap around the thick cock's tip. He gently suckles it, drawing out the beads of pre that were close to leaking out. A hand gently presses to the back of his head. The outcast pulls back, running his tongue along the sides and bottom of the dick's crown before slowly taking the tasty member into his mouth. His hands rub the back of Xal's legs, soon moving up to grope the alien's beefy ass.

Xal groans. The hero's lips squeeze his sensitive cock as they run along its length, first from the tip to the middle and back and then all the way to the base. The alien is honestly amazed, especially given Mitrion's lack of a snout, but hardly complains. The hero takes the cock into his throat, falsely swallowing around it to great effect.

In between bouts of deep-throating, the hero bobs along the cock like it's nothing. The underside is treated to his agile tongue while the wet warmth of his mouth pleasures the rest.

Of all the little treatments, Xal inwardly admits that a nice little slurp the hero gives upon pulling back has to be the cutest. It's surprising how the male puts his all into pleasing someone he just met. Even the sight of such a sexy, built hunk on his knees with his leaking ass sticking out while sucking a thick, throbbing cock is a calculated addition.

In no time at all the bartender feels his orgasm strike. He grips the back of Mitrion's head, keeping it in place. "Swallow every drop or you're going to do it again."

The hero releases a muffled moan and dutifully drinks down the alien's cum. The gentle vibrations and suckling enhance the orgasm like nothing else.

While he fills Mitrion's mouth, Xal spies Anticharge approaching the counter. "Uh, what're you doing?" The mercenary asks.

"Testing out the oral capabilities of your pet." The bartender answers. He feels Mitrion growl around his dick. "Mm, yeah, you should branch out with this one."

Anticharge gives Xal a curious look and then rolls his eyes. "Sure. Where's my money?"

"You'll get it." Xal breathes out a heavily pant and lets the hero go. The hero pulls off, lowers his visor, and stands. Their eyes meet. The alien grins. "You do good work."

Too embarrassed to thank the bartender, Mitrion simply tilts his head with respect. He turns to leave and nearly jumps when he feels the man smack his firm ass.

"Come back anytime," The alien continues. "Wouldn't mind a round with you myself."

The outcast pauses, considering his words before saying, "Likewise."

He's sure to reinstate his crotch and ass plates as he begins to leave. Of course when he actually starts to go the mercenary to stop him with a grin. Mitrion leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.

"He'll be back again, eagerly earning me a profit after I've freshly pounded him." Anticharge says. "Isn't that right, pet?"

Mitrion scoffs. "We'll fight and you'll be sore and moaning by the time I'm done with you."

"Is that before or after I've made you the bitch of half the city's men?" Anticharge chuckles and steps aside, gesturing for the hero to pass. "Go now. You have your master's permission."

But just before he can, the villain reaches into his pocket and pulls out the info chip. He breaks it between his fingers. The reason for this dawns on Mitrion. The villain smiles.

The outcast contemplates retorting, but simply shrugs, nudges past his rival and leaves. Sure, his pride is wounded, he'd been tricked, and his suit will need a hard scrubbing after all of that, but this turns out to be... oddly inspiring. He'll get Anticharge next time and the villain will love it.

...or he'll enjoy the company of multiple men for another night. Either way, he wins.