Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Chicken!	By : Shinashi Category: +S through Z > Tekken Views: 5684 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken or any of its spinoffs. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
AN: I don’t know all the Tekken history by heart, so sorry if I mess up some things. (For example, a few hours of researching and I found out that Bruce and Kazuya worked together. You don’t really get that from their openings and endings XD)
Enjoy.
Li’l Lee
Forrest Law. At first, many had called him his father’s shadow, exact and nearly unnoticeable. At the time he was simply glad to fight in a real tournament, and both Marshall and his Uncle Paul claimed that his youth made him less predictable, flexible, that the years put on the two men just couldn’t allow. That made him feel stronger than anything, and he hardly lost confidence in training or fights, even when they all realized he was clumsy as hell.
Now, he was scared as hell. He was certain that at least five of the eighteen of them could eat him for breakfast, and that wasn’t even counting the huge man in cameo pants, stomping to and for just before a locker room door- or rather, where the door had been.
Still, as the silence grew, he was the one to announce, “I’m Forrest Law. What’s you guys name?”
He attempted one of those big smiles that he knew he possessed, another gift from his dad, but it felt stiff as the others gave him long looks- some crazy, some cold, come completely uninterested- and a smile from a silver-haired man wearing a silk-lined terry purple bathrobe. He looked vaguely familiar.
“I’m Marshall Law, his dad. Nice to meet ya’.”
Forrest’s smile came a bit more easily, and some of the men looked at their bracelets for translations.
“Paul Phoenix!” boomed his great friend.
It was quiet before a black man in swimming trunks, with white hair, went next, “You can call me Raven- and I know all your names.” He continued while pointing each person out. “Hwoarang. Baek Doo San. Steve Fox. Lars Alexandersson- good to see you again.” Raven stopped, but then continued dangerously, “Sergei Dragunov.” The pale-skinned Russian simply nodded his head. He wore a T-shirt and straight khaki pants. “Bryan Fury.” The man growled out an insane laugh. “Jin Kazama- as everyone should know. That is Lei Wulong, Robert Richards- who has gotten a great deal slimmer. And, Lee Chaolan, his step-brother Kazuma Mishima. Eddy Gordo. Bruce Irvin. Miguel Caballero Rojo.”
Lee Chaolan clapped. “That is quite the memory you have there, Raven, as expected. Perhaps you would know more about this doctor of ours?”
“This facility we are trapped in has motion sensors, the latest technology of audio receivers, and counter-weapons to get everyone in line, and some sort of transportation device. If I had known about this place, do you think I would be caught?”
Lee tapped his thick lips before nodding in acceptance. Well, all the worse for you, since you are as stuck as I.”
“That is the truth of it,” Raven replied solemnly.
“Nice to meet all of you,” Forrest chimed in. He received a couple nods, and more chuckles, for his efforts, but it was better than nothing. Better than how Jin and Kazuya were looking about ready to rip each other’s throats out.
“Yo, y’all, check this,” Bruce said, grinning wryly at his bracelet. “It costs two stars to flush the toilet, a star a minute when you run water- for anything, not just showers, and a half-star a minute to rent a razor blade, three for a can o’ shaving cream. Bottled water three stars a pop.”
“Li’l Law is up to something good. We all feeling this, and it’s not like we can fight, so let’s not be assholes.”
A flood of relief filled Forrest as everyone visibly relaxed- even Kazuya Mishima did some sort of grin, and said to the others, “Then, how about we get these beds out of the way.” It wasn’t an offer.
Lee Chaolan patted his shoulder and asked in his gentlemanly English, “Anyone in particular have need for these oversized dog pillows?”
No one said anything for a while although it was painfully obvious to Forrest that they all wanted the matresses, no matter if they might have been taken straight from a prison.
And then Lei said, almost shy, “I have a bad back. It says here we aren’t allowed to sleep in the gym, with the mat… If you all don’t mind?”
Lee spread his hands to everyone else: “Any objections?” Again, a silent acceptance, and Lei Wulong had the first bed. “The other?”
“The other what?” growled Bryan Fury, his slabs of a chest twitching for no particular reason. The way he bared his teeth, clenching his jaw so that every vein stood out terrified Forrest.
“The bed.” Lee rolled his eyes.
“What about the other one?”
“We just decided Lei Wulong would have it. He has a bad back. He’s quite the honest man so-”
Bryan growled in Lei’s direction. “I want the other one,” he rasped, muscles quivering. “It’s mine.”
“Well, we-”
“I’m not good enough?! That’s it, huh? You think he’s some fucking awesome asshole, and I’m fucking gutter trash?! I’ll rip out your throat and fuck it all down the bloody pipe.”
The look of utter shock could not have been more profound, but Lee still said in a mildly composed voice, “You know what, take it,” and under his breath, “Fucking maniac.”
Bryan thumped his chest, and then barraged it with his fists, howling.
“Ol’ dude can have the whole room to his self,” Bruce muttered.
Another round of silent agreement and then Lars spoke to them all, “It says we have a mandatory all-inclusive challenge.” He quoted, “ ‘An ice-breaker, if you will.’ It’s at twenty hundred hours- it’s 1945 now.”
It was rather obvious who had trouble with the military time, as they had frowned or bit their lips in confusion.
“It’s seven-forty-five,” Lars helped in his accented English.
Steve Fox added, “It says that this here ice-breaker would set the ‘tone’ of this whole camp and, if we win this challenge, he’ll pay for everyone’s supper, whatever they want.”
“What happens if we lose?” asked Hwoarang in Korean, simply reading his translations.
“He will ‘re-shape’ the compound into one room, one gym, no amenities, including the loss of the loo and shower. To be lenient, there will be five chances to break the rules of whatever this game is.”
A nervous energy filled the low hall. Everyone, including Forrest, stood around, tapping feet or something else. Bryan Fury was growling, punching the air restlessly, and Forrest saw Lei Wulong giving the man sad looks. Kazuya Mishima had his eyes closed as Lee Chaolan whispered oddly close to his ear, even making the scary man smile every so often. Bruce began whistling some poppy tune, and Forrest recognized it as the latest hit from some female country singer. Miguel Rojo was mumbling darkly to himself, eyes plastered on Jin Kazama’s stern face. From the Mexican’s space, the smell of alcohol was strong. Had he been training drunk?
Lars coughed aloud. “Um, we have to be in the gym in a few minutes.”
Everyone started walking, and Lars coughed again, adding, “We have to be naked, or we will be punished.”
Without preamble, Lee Chaolan took off his bathrobe, then looked suspiciously about as he folded it. “I’ll get this back right? Doctor?” And when the doctor didn’t answer, he hung the robe on his arm and went into the gym.
As the others followed his examples, with towels and workout clothes, Forrest slowly undressed himself, putting his clothes in the bag he still carried. He had nothing to be ashamed of in regards to his physique; he had a pleasantly-sized cock as well. And, of course, he was bestowed with an even copper color and his Law smile. Still, it made him uncomfortable to read the instructions in his monitor and to sit on the smooth, cool mat in a circle with a bunch of naked stronger, more irritated or equally uncomfortable men. One of whom was his father, another a best friend, even if he was many years his senior.
They sat around a metal bottle-shaped device. Bruce kicked it as he passed, and it twirled quickly around and stopped at a reasonable time.
The instructions said everyone’s knees had to touch. Naked and embarrassed, they set up cross-legged, and Forrest’s bare knee touched his father’s. But with a whisper Paul and Marshall switched seats, so now Forrest’s knee touched Paul’s, and Marshall was on the other side.
Much better.
Slim Bob sat to Forrest’s right, tall and pink and flustered. For what, with his huge dick and rippled body, Forrest couldn’t understand.
It took him a second to understand their arrangement and the bottle- to a degree: “How are we going to play Spin the Bottle without any girls?”
The incredulous looks he received would have clued anyone else in, but Forrest faced them with large, dark, innocent eyes.
It was again tall Bruce to speak, “Kid, we… we ain’t kissing girls.”
“So how are we going to play?”
“Don’t we have a little genius in our midst?” Miguel grumbled.
“We’re kissing each other, Forrest,” said his father slowly, though his eyes were bitter at the Mexican’s curly swaying head.
And now Forrest completely understood, saying, “Aaaaaah… Wait, even you?”
Bruce shrugged. “Sure enough, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Forrest felt a wriggling butterfly flutter some in his stomach, so instead of facing the others, he looked at his bracelet and its current message.
Rule one detailed the regular rules of Spin the Bottle. Someone starts off, spins, and kisses whomever the neck of the bottle lands on. The person clockwise of the previous spinner spins next, even if he was the one chosen to be kissed in the previous spin. However, if the bottle lands on the spinner, he spins again. And on and on and on.
Usually the games end when some of the guys and gays paired off and left, or some other game proved more interesting- but their game was to last until 9:30 if they didn’t get five strikes- with them, the game will last longer indefinitely. And the rooms would still be conjoined, too.
Rule two had all the kissing to be French, and another of Forrest’s butterflies twittered at that.
Rule three, each kiss has to be twenty unbroken seconds, no more, no less, and will have to start within ten seconds of the kiss-ee being chosen.
“Twenty seconds?” Baek suddenly exclaimed. For some reason, he looked at Hwoarang, and quickly looked back at his bracelet. “What man kisses for twenty seconds?”
Lei Wulong sighed, “A bunch of men with guns pointed at them.”
In a regular game, depending on whom was kissing whom, with girls the only ones risking their sexuality by kissing the same sex, the kiss could be a quick peck, or a rather long affair that might end the game entirely. Forrest’s never played a timed game.
Rule four made sure the game lasted longer. It decreed that no kisses be a ‘fight between mouths, no overwrought biting, or rough handling’, although caresses, holds, and hugs were allowed. Outright masturbation was also disallowed, but Forrest didn’t think it would come near enough to that.
At the precise stroke of eight, two panels rose behind Forrest and Dragunov, who were directly across from one another. Each monitor showed the number ten on the blue screen, and they could all guess what these were for, and Forrest became slightly nauseous.
Most seemed to fidget then anyway, men and young men alike. Except, Dragunov sat still as stone with hands clasped in his lap, and Bryan and Miguel seemed to be constantly moving nonetheless.
And then, overhead from unseen speakers, a monotonous robotic voice said that Forrest was to spin first.
Because of the number of them, the circle was wide enough that the boy had to get up to spin. He steeled himself and the butterfly, determin3ed not to make the first strike. He felt they all suspected him to, as slow-witted and clumsy as he was, plus he was one of the youngest. At least, he thought so- Bob looked much older fat.
The bottle spun silently, and Forrest could feel a magnetism keeping it to the mat. As he watched the bottle start to stop, he could feel the rest closing in.
The next stopped near his spot, but the butterfly was flapping too wildly to make sense of whom it, exactly, landed on. Then a laser light protruded from the bottle and shone underneath Marshall Law’s knee.
“Well, we start off with the worst pair,” Bruce said cheerfully.
Lee answered, “No, that would probably go to Kazuya and Jin.”
“Seven seconds,” Raven reminded.
Forrest was still trying to come to grips to what was about to happen when Marshall put his hands on his son’s shoulders. With three seconds left to start, he began the twenty second kiss.
Forrest couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed his dad, but it was perhaps on his cheek more than a decade ago? Marshall had kissed him on the forehead after his motorcycle accident… Then all his kisses went to his girlfriends, and mother. His mom’s were quick, sometimes on the lips.
But now his father’s tongue was twining with his and his familiar callused brown hands had him still. If he pretended long enough, Forrest could hear his father’s voice chastising him, hands in the same stern position.
But the kiss had to be twenty seconds, even when ten was definitely long enough for pretending- holy shit, I’m kissing Dad!
What would his mom say? His dad was a good kisser too, and that helped confuse Forrest long enough to go through the next ten seconds. They were soon sitting back down, with Paul coming up between them to spin.
“Boy was like a bump on a log the whole time,” laughed Bruce.
“Daddy seemed to like it, though,” Bryan Fury said in his rasping voice. With that remark the tenseness returned. “Maybe Daddy wanted Sonny Boy’s dick, too.”
Forrest could almost feel Marshall’s annoyed glare.
“I’d rather they showed a desperate passion,’ Lee spoke nonchalantly, “than the both of them laying their tongues against each other. That would have been creepy.”
So far, Forrest thought Lee and Bruce were enjoyable.
Paul landed on Miguel, who had to be shouldered by his neighbor into consciousness. When he saw his would-be kisser, he cursed and said, “I would have much preferred the genius.”
Forrest didn’t know what to make of that. Paul wasn’t a bad-looking guy (none of them were, really), but if your tastes were for girls, Paul definitely would be one of the farthest from one. Forrest, on the other hand, has been mocked for having pretty eyes like a girl, and that he was nice like a girl, whatever the hell that means.
Miguel and Paul started hesitantly and looked to separate, and then that would have cost them a strike, but their foreheads almost banged each other in their haste to close the gap.
Their twenty were over and Lee complained, “See that? I would much prefer the incest to those two fool bulls butting together.” There were a few chuckles as the men nodded in agreement, and Miguel shot the finger to all of them.
His father was now the spinner, and the got Bruce. Something akin to envy jolted Forrest- why couldn’t he have gotten the easy-going Bruce instead? Forrest pretended he was his father, subconsciously, and then he was the one able to relax a bit at Bruce’s smile of mild embarrassment, and have his chin pulled up because he was so much shorter. And then he would begin the kiss against fleshy lips, soft and fleeting, before Bruce’s tongue lapped up his lower lip and pulled it into his mouth, and then the rest with it. Bruce had a hand on the back of his neck, urging him on, and a long thumb worked on his hip. He had his eyes closed, too.
The group received the first strike for kissing over the time limit.
“Sorry, guys,” Marshall whispered, not even bothering to cover his erection. Bruce, in turn, swaggered to his seat, huge dark dick swinging.
“Sonny Boy liked it,” Bryan erupted into laughter. “His father really gets him.”
“More likely it was Tall, Dark, and Handsome who got him.”
Bryan’s braying stopped abruptly, but Lee was examining his nails.
Lei Wulong was redder than fire truck as he spun the bottle, grimacing as it once again landed on Miguel. But Miguel simply grasped Lei about the waist and began to kiss him, hand running through Lei’s long black hair. And this wasn’t the kiss he had with Paul. When they parted a bit for air, he licked Lei’s still surprised lips before diving in to kiss deeply again. Lei was wobbly around his knees when the time ran out, and Miguel’s cock and walk matched Bruce’s. Bruce pointed at him with a grin.
Forrest had no idea what that was all about, but it was now Bruce’s official turn. He picked Marshall once again, and Forrest’s dick picked up as well, but he didn’t have to worry about what it was for. When the kiss was done, it was Kazuya, an eye glowing red, to say, “Even better the second time, Bruce.”
Forrest noted the Mishima was hard; a look around proved that Lee (of course), Lei, Miguel, Dragunov, Lars and Steve to be in similar states, and a couple others were surely getting there. Forrest wondered if some of them were gay or bisexual or something, or if it was just the excitement running through their blood, like before a fight. Such excitements had made the Law boy stiffen like nothing else, and he would do kicks to put his hardness away and focus.
Eddy Gordy then got Steve. The Englishman’s stiff dick was as red as his face, and Bryan voiced whether or not he would bleed the same red, too. Steve gave him a passing of a disturbed glance and faced the dour Brazilian man, whose legs gave him a bit of a height over him.
They stared at each other; Eddy’s grimace becoming more pronounced as the seconds passed. So intense was his look of irritation that Steve became even redder, and neither of them noticed the monotonous voice saying they’ve earned their second strike.
“Anytime within the next ten seconds, please,” Lee said wryly, though his eyes weren’t as joking.
“It’s just like kissing a girl,” said Bruce, then he winked at Marshall, “even more the second time.” Marshall gave him the finger.
But still Steve stared dumbly, and Eddy glared, and they got their third strike.
“Holy shit, come on you guys,” Lei shouted, and Forrest remembered he had a bad back, and would be the worst to hurt if their amenities were taking away.
Steve’s face was an apple, and the timer went from two to twenty as the shorter man took Eddy by the shoulders to pull him down, and he still went on tiptoe to kiss him because Eddy wouldn’t budge.
Eddy opened his mouth at least when their lips met, but it was apparent that other than that Eddy was not participating in the kiss. Steve Fox did the best he could and didn’t let go until the time had run out.
“What the hell, Steve?” Hwoarang punched him in the shoulder.
Steve flexed numbly in response. “Something’s wrong with him, mate.”
Eddy still stood still, wavering on his feet, blinking slowly.
“You can sit down now, man,” Bruce said.
Raven answered, “He speaks Portuguese and a bit of Japanese, but he’s not looking at his monitor…”
“Ah, ah, ah! I know!” the doctor suddenly screamed over the intercom. “Let’s see if this is reversible or if all you will seventeen together, not eighteen, yes?”
Two mechanical arms stretched from panels in the ceiling. One had a camera and flashed on Eddy’s head, while the other had two metal rods at the tip of a claw-like appendage. The metal rods swayed with Eddy to either side of his dreadlocked head, and the other arm took more pictures, or whatever it was doing.
“Very good! Reversible!”
With that, a stream of electricity passed through the metal rods. Eddy twitched with a gasp and looked round at the others. When he put his left arm to point he noticed his bracelet and narrowed his eyes in such confusion that Forrest believed the Doctor had sparked the man crazy.
But then Eddy said, “What’s happening? Wait, no, I’m remembering. Fuck, what happened with me?”
The doctor chuckled. “Just scrambled your brains in the transport. One prospective subject came out the other side completely brain dead, but you are now fine. Let the game continue!”
Bruce protested, “Hey, should those strikes count then?”
“Steve could have kissed him. Nothing wrong with Fox brain, no.”
“I thought he was going to bite me face off!” muttered Steve.
“There is a rule against fighting.”
“And there was the rule to kiss; he hadn’t minded that either.”
The doctor went silent, then, “Fine.”
“Strike one,” droned the robot voice as Eddy sat down.
Forrest said softly in the ensuing silence, “It’s your turn, Mr. Rojo.”
“Miguel,” the tall man corrected. He spun and got Raven. Raven got no arm like Lei did, but a hand on his shoulder. Raven’s back was as stiff as a board, and seemed to force himself to reciprocate, but not very well.
Then it was Dragunov’s turn and although no one was exactly chatting it up before, it seemed much quieter then. And when Bryan called him a ‘cold commie cunt’, the Russian man turned to him, eyes narrowed, and shut up Bryan’s laughter in a heartbeat.
Baek was his target, and the middle-aged Korean stood from a kneeling posture (while his student beside him had a leg bent and the other straight forward), and his straight sure stride put him in front of Dragunov.
Forrest expected another tense, awkward kiss from the old guys, but Dragunov did something unexpected, something Forrest just realized didn’t happen with the others.
Dragunov kept his eyes open, which seemed to keep Baek’s eyes open in a challenge, and it made the quiet that much quieter.
It seemed Dragunov was a good kisser (or maybe it was Baek) and their mouths melded and tongues folded like they’ve been kissing for years. But it was only twenty seconds.
And it was Bryan’s turn.
Forrest’s stomach flipped and although the odds weren’t that badly against him, he found himself praying the bottle didn’t land on him.
Bryan finally sauntered up to spin, reach down, and plucked it. Clockwise, it slowly went, past Kazuya, pass Lee (Bryan huffed), past Baek and then it landed clearly in Hwoarang’s space, and Bryan roared, “I was trying to get sweetmeat over here-” He pointed to Lee, making Kazuya’s eye blast a sudden glow. “-but Some Young Guy would be just as good!”
Eyes on his screen’s translation, Hwoarang simply looked confused, and Forrest was certain the racist comment went over his head as he said, “I’m Hwoarang. My master is Baek Doo San.”
Bryan merely laughed and coaxed the boy over with a crooked finger.
The countdown started with Bryan grabbing Hwoarang’s sharp, tanned hips. With a hideous grin his head descended, but the boy brought his head back just as Bryan opened and closed his jaws, teeth cracking together.
“What the hell!” Hwoarang shouted, pushing away as the clock ticked.
Bryan shushed by bringing their hips together; the man’s thighs rippled with pleasure, but the Korean boy only sent one panicked look at his master. That made Forrest sick with terribly pity. What could Beak do? Get shot, that’s what he could do.
Nothing was also an answer, as Bryan smashed their mouths’ together, cheeks hallowing out suddenly and Hwoarang shoved again, with no luck. Now Forrest could see Hwoarang’s tongue in Bryan’s mouth, and then the man’s teeth come down.
And Hwoarang let out a scream, digging his nails into Bryan’s thick chest, drawing blood in desperation, drawing breaths between his bloodied lips and Bryan’s vigorous teeth and tongue.
Then Bryan swallowed. Forrest was about to forgo seeing the rest, but it was now over, Hwoarang unconscious. The cyborg soon lost interest.
The long seconds up and Bryan dropped Hwoarang to the floor, his lower face a mess of blood and thicker pink bits. Baek and Steve eventually helped him back to his spot.
They had four strikes in total now. The tension that had been gradually ebbing away was now beyond tolerance.
Before Kazuya stood for his turn, the doctor spoke, “Could someone bring Hwoarang to his feet? I will heal that tongue and all. Very luck Bryan had not bitten all off, or he would have strange new tongue to taste with!” To his instructions Baek and Steve brought the red lolling head up, and the boy to his feet. An oddly shaped metal arm of thin metal dropped from a ceiling panel. A slow blue laser went from its tip into Hwoarang’s leaking mouth. With a soft moan, the boy awake. The arm was done and left from whence it came.
“You got a boo-boo, baby?” Bryan growled, grinning.
Hwoarang spat blood, but didn’t pay Bryan’s taunts any mind at all, though his fists clenched.
Now, Kazuya spun, and got Bruce.
“Goddamn, when’s the last time the two of us did this?” Bruce exclaimed loudly, smiling hugely. Forrest noticed him smoothly avoiding drops of Hwoarang’s blood.
Kazuya grunted. “You’re popular tonight,” then, with a frown, “I don’t remember doing anything like this with you.”
“Well, ya ain’t exactly a heavyweight with tequila.”
Kazuya narrowed his eyes, the red one glittering on, but Bruce still put an arm around his hips and pulled them together, kissing immediately. Though Kazuya kept his arms to his side, the kiss wasn’t standoffish or awkward, and both were erect when they sat down again.
“Oh, yea, they were friends,” Forrest heard Marshall joke.
Lee Chaolan had an eyebrow raised at Bruce when he sauntered to the bottle, hips waving gracefully, effortlessly. He fell on Bob, who high cheeks went bright pink.
“Someone’s happy to see me,” Lee said, licking his lips, and Forrest realized how young the man looked, though he must have been pushing forty by now.
Bob tried to cover his erection, stammering, “I’ve… I haven’t k-kissed that mm-many men.” The blonde was unable to look Lee in the eye, and his tallness had him looking way off to the side.
“So you’ve kissed men before? I’m certain Bruce there has kissed less men than you, and you have seen how he fares.
Bruce whistled, and Raven reminded them of the time.
Bob went into a wide-legged stance and expelled a gust of air, and then all the blotchy color went from his cheeks, the nervous tension disappeared about him, and his handsome smiling face was full of confidence. He then proceeded to kiss Lee’s confused mouth.
“Oh! No, stop, stop!” the doctor yelled before their lips could touch. Both Bob and Lee shot irritated looks upward.
The doctor chuckled, explaining, “I had meant to change game in middle, but Mr. Fury’s stunt had me forgetting. Anyway, for the next ten, I would like for the spinner to blow his chosen.”
“Blow?” Forrest and others said simultaneously.
“Hm… Suck the dick? Now, this is for thirty seconds. This is not for orgasm, but research only. So now Lee, you will suck Bob’s penis. Proceed within fifteen seconds. Remember, only a single strike remains.” And then it became obvious he wasn’t there.
Bob was huffing, attempting calm, yet seemed to choke on his air when Lee went to his knees, hands pulling his shaking hips forward. His long cock was stiff, however, and jerked a bit in Lee’s hands. The silver-haired demon swept the bangs from his eyes and set a glance on Kazuya before looking up at Bob’s wide blue ones.
Forrest made a little sound of surprise as a jolt of pleasure went to his un touched cock just when Lee put his tongue on Bob’s cock. The older man sucked the flesh at just the tip, and Bob’s shaking went quite visibly to his knees. He groaned, closing his eyes, and he cursed in a ragged voice. Then Lee’s heavy sucking filled the room and Forrest watched as each plunge down brought Bob’s cock deeper and deeper, and Lee’s throat looked fuller and fuller.
But the thirty seconds were up before anyone did much of anything, and it was now stiff Baek’s turn to spin and he got Bryan.
A solid silence passed; Forrest was breathless, and his dick crumpled as if shot.
It was Hwoarang to say, “Better this than the other way around, Sir.”
As true as that may have been, as Baek went to his callused knees before the grinning Fury, and the scarred man grasped his head. Forrest couldn’t help but imagine Bryan trying to choke Baek with his rather meaty member. Forrest didn’t know a dick could be so thick, especially as it had only a slightly above-average length.
Beak seemed to share the same fears as Forrest. He took a meditative breath and began his duty- Bryan held him there.
His gurgling laugh started up and he warned, “Remember, only one strike left. I bet the rule against a bit of rough play is still not allowed, yes?” The monotonous voice said yes. “Too bad.”
When Baek made no move to do more than hold the cock stiffly in his mouth, Bryan’s laugh stopped short. He grunted in annoyance and started to thrust, but pulling out proved difficult as Baek audibly suck harder. He pretty much had the dick in a vacuum, and even in that position the Korean’s eyes displayed a very real threat.
Bryan looked as if he wanted to wrench Baek’s head off, but Forrest guessed that even he wouldn’t have enjoyed his cock bitten off, even with the promise of its reconnection. So, when the time was up, Baek let the mostly limp dick fall from his mouth, wiped his face, and went back to his spot; Bryan did as well, mumbling angrily all the while.
The whole group seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and the now familiar feeling of sexual tension returned as Hwoarang, with bits of blood on his face here and there, went to spin the magnetic bottle.
“Lucky bastard,” Lee murmured.
Bob’s cock was even stiffer than before, and the bead of precum showed them all how much another blow excited him. Not only that, Hwoarang actually looked relieved. Still, when close to the leaking slit, Hwoarang paused and, inexplicably, looked at Jin, which made everyone else look at Jin, which made Jin narrow his eyes, which made Hwoarang clear his throat and lick.
Bob’s loud gasp broke the superbly awkward moment that none of them really understood. Hwoarang again passed a couple glances at Jin, and continued to swallow, moving back down the reddish dick, shining with spit and moving even further. His tongue wiggled, undulating the soft flesh of his jaw. He couldn’t swallow him down as Lee had done, but it was enough for Bob to curse loudly when their tongue was up.
As Hwoarang got to his feet, wiping his swollen lips, Bob took a hold of his own dick.
The next moment, he was screaming.
Immediately, Hwoarang went into his Tae Kwon Do stance, bouncing on the balls of his feet, but there was only Bob writhing on the ma, twitching and crying.
The robot voice repeated to all of them, “No masturbation.”
Hwoarang now helped the curly-headed blonde to his feet as spasms wracked him erratically. Still the young man couldn’t help teasing, “Goddamn, must not have hurt that bad.”
Sure enough Bob’s cock was nearly purple with want, though he ultimately confused. He manage to shamble back to his seat and collapse. Fists clenching and unclenching, Forrest heard him whisper, “So unlucky.”
Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously before spinning. He got Eddy.
“Again?” Steve exclaimed, staying on the floor.
“You will be doing all the work again, yes,” Eddy said in what may have been intended to be nonchalant, but was gruff. He added with a more forceful softness, “Just do your best.”
“My best, he says,” murmured Steve, looking up from his wrist. A quick look at Eddy’s member and everyone else’s, including a double check at Bruce and Raven’s, showed conclusively that Eddy was the biggest man there. Thick, long and perfectly shaped, he was porn star material- not like Forrest had any real knowledge about that.
Steve’s pink lips wrapped around the swollen head and barely went down before he was pulling back, and then the Englishman pushed further- Eddy grunted and pushed. Then, the blond was going red and choking and pulling his head back-
“Ah! You separated! And now that is the fifth strike!” The doctor cackled suddenly. “No dinner, no amenities, one room! Ah, and the two had the rescinding of strikes, and now deal final blow. What irony!” He laughed again, and it cut short with the old man’s coughing. “Now each strike shall cost two stars for every man.
“So, Steve, do not be messing up even more. Now, go on, go on.”
The grim, now nearly useless countdown began its silent descent from fifteen, and Steve slowly renewed his work, but Eddy was pissed, and took Steve’s hair in his hands and starting to bang into his mouth. He warned, “Be careful with your fucking teeth,” although Steve couldn’t understand him. He did understand the forceful clench of fingers at his jaw, however.
Whatever irritation at their lost Forrest might have felt vanished once he caught sight of Steve’s tear-streaked face and swollen lips when the time went up. The boxer went to his spot and brought his face to his knees in shame.
Lars attempted to pat him on the shoulder, but it was quickly and angrily shoved off. Lars sighed and went to the center to spin. He stayed on his knees, which seemed smart, considering the objective.
“Is this thing fixed?” Lars complained as Eddy stood once more in the center.
He easily began going up and down, only halfway, the entire time, even as Eddy shot his hips forward with force. They stared at one another at the end and Lars growled, “You didn’t have to be so rough with Steve, asshole.”
A look at his wrist, and Eddy sneered: “Because of him-”
Standing, Lars cut him off, “Because of him? He choked on your behemoth cock like someone who hasn’t swallowed before- good thing he didn’t bite the damn thing off. Bryan wasted three strikes trying to chew off Hwoarang’s face, and could’ve taken another if time hadn’t run out. And I bet you when his turns comes round again, someone’s going to be familiar with his teeth.”
Lars commanding voice reverberated throughout the gym, and Eddy’s almost perpetual frown deepened, creasing his nose into a half-dozen grave wrinkles. With a huff, he grumbled out an apology in Steve’s general direction before sitting down with his rather high-strung dick.
Steve’s red eyes were visible from the top of his forearm. He nodded quickly at Lars as he sat down.
“No problem,” answered Lars.
Raven was next, thick lips doing the most basic maneuvers on Baek’s completely flaccid dick.
Then it was Jin, and Forrest realized Jin was next to Bob- and he was next again! It seemed like only a few minutes and a few hours both had passed since he and his father… Were first.
Jin’s first spin landed on his own spot. He spun it again.
The superstition in Forrest was sure that the slowing bottle would land on Kazuya, but it continued on and thought just as surely it would land on Hwoarang, but it nudged a bit further and landed on Steve’s spot instead.
Steve glanced at Hwoarang, which set off another round of looks that had Lee chuckling ‘soap opera’.
Whatever business Hwoarang and Jin seemed to share was set aside as Jin expertly swallowed Steve to the root within six seconds, suck hard and loudly with crushing fingers deep into the boxer’s muscled hips and waist. He held Steve in his mouth, eyes dark and menacing as he swallowed over and over again, With another six seconds to spare, Steve said in a surprised squeak, “I’m about to come.”
That obviously bothered Jin none as he pulled back and deep-throated once more. But the time went out and he pulled off. He was back at his seat while Steve was still staring at his wetted dick, willing it to calm. He strained not to touch himself, hand twitching.
“Think of your Mama naked,” Bruce suggested.
Forrest saw Lei snort, and then collapse into a fit of giggles.
“That… That won’t help,” Steve finally breathed out, walking stiffly to his spot.
“Why not?”
“His mother is Nina Williams,” Lee answered, grinning devilishly at Kazuya, whose eyes went up minimally in surprise.
Bruce made a sympathetic sound. “How about-” the man looked around, scratching his small beard. “-ah, Bryan Fury munching you down.”
It was odd for Forrest to see the process of a hardness withering. Kind of a sad thing to see for him.
Then it was Bob next to him, then it would be him again- would it be him and his dad again? Bob had no such fears, and there was a way to cow the frightening Bryan, as they all learned from Baek. And more, Bob was easy on the eyes. Forrest noticed some of the group leaning forward eagerly.
It was Lars who got the honor.
Bob’s confident grin was up. “A man of repute! This is good!”
Lars still asked, “Have you ever done this before?”
Forrest had the perfect view of Bob spitting on his hand and rubbing Lars with it; he spit on the other and added it to the grip. Lars groaned deep from his throat, teeth clenching together. Bob still dawdled, and obviously the Doctor wasn’t watching him break the rules of masturbation, if that was still a rule anyway.
“I can make you come faster than Jin, I bet.” Lars twitched, almost… blushing... and looking at Jin, who stared back.
“Is that something to be proud of?” Lei asked with scowl. One knotted fist was rubbing at the small of his back.
With the seconds left to start, Bob answered, “It’s something that’s really nifty at the moment, yea?”
In two seconds, he was deep-throating Lars significant size. He pulled back almost as if to separate, only to lick longingly at the underside. He pulled the cock up and licked roughly where the balls attached. No matter how he moved, his tongue or lips or very skilled teeth kept contact, working speedily and weightily.
Lars was already groaning, eyes closed with intense need, and Forrest moaned to himself, too stiff to even rein it in.
Soon, Bob was bobbing hard, fast, and sloppy, saliva running down his jaw, and bright blue eyes looking straight into Lars’.
Time ran out before Bob was done, but he pulled off with a hollowed-cheek suck that popped wetly from Lars’ member, and the slit erupted, and stripes of cum landed across Bob’s eye and lips. The blond wiped them off, then licked them off his fingers.
“Always clean up after yourself,” he said with a grin.
Bruce clasped his hands together in a loud clap. “Please, Jesus, if you could bestow them chunky lips to my dick, forever yours shall be my glory. Amen.” Several amens followed that, even from a breathless Lars. Bob barked out a laugh.
As Forrest took his turn again, he was too horny to worry. And even the thought of landing on his father- or vice versa- did nothing to deter his excitement, or the mirth Bruce had provided.
All that curdled as the bottle landed directly in the middle of Bryan Fury’s lap.
“Don’t be scared, son,” his father said softly. “Even he likes his dick just where it is.”
Almost in a trance, Forrest went to his knees. Already Bryan was flopping about, and all of him just got bigger and bigger and bigger, until he seemed as tall as the gym (though it was rather tiny).
When he was close enough, he pressed his head forward robotically, but Bruce stepped back.
“Woah! You’re so eager!” Bruce laughed maniacally. “I was afraid you were going to bite.”
“Only you would bite,” spat Lei.
Bryan merely grinned at him.
Abruptly he grabbed Forrest by the hair, and then then a weird spot in his jaw. With a squeeze, a twist, and an excruciating tug, Forrest felt his neck go aflame.
“Did he just fucking break his jaw?”
Forrest couldn’t recognize the voice; he was already too far under some maze of pain. Impossibly, the pain became even worse, like shots here and there blasting into his throat and a constant heat on either side of his head. He could hear some people yelling, screaming in pain, and then, most definitely, he heard Uncle Paul with his unmistakable shout. Then everything fell very deeply.
When he opened his eyes finally he thought he still had them closed. Recognizing the feeling, he waited, but nothing happened.
He reached over for his desk lamp instead and felt a body.
“What?”
With a kick, he contacted another pair of feet and heard a grumble in response.
“Hello?”
“Hi, kid. Could you stop moving? We packed like sardines in here,” murmured a familiar voice.
And then it all clicked. He steeled his jaw, waiting for the pain to radiate, but that didn’t happen as much as the light didn’t come on. He moved it slightly, felt nothing, stretched it out, nothing, moved normally, nothing.
“Did he heal my jaw?”
“Yep.”
“Why…” Forrest was so confused. “Why is it so dark? Where’s my dad and Uncle Paul?”
“We’re over here,” he heard Uncle Paul say. “Time for sleep.”
“Or trying to,” mumbled Lee.
Forrest ignored him. “Why are you over there?”
“The damn doctor had a seating arrangement-”
With a panicked gasp, Forrest demanded, “Where’s Bryan?”
“Over here, Sweetness,” growled Bryan, in a faraway sounding corner of the room.
Lars quickly changed the subject, “To inform you, we lost fourteen stars as a group. Other individuals lost more; Bryan has none. After you went unconscious, Marshall intervened and was… punished.”
So, that was the screaming.
“Paul eventually took out Bryan, before the time limit, to his own detriment, as he and Bryan began to fight. After they were punished, Paul spun. He also landed on Bryan. Instead of continuing the mission-”
“Mission?” Steve said.
“-Bryan knocked Paul unconscious and forewent fellatio, causing us to lose points in the process, until Bryan lost all of his.
“Since Bryan had nothing left to lose, and physical punishment did nothing to deter him, the game was ended prematurely. Also, because of our ‘poor performance’, we will have a stricter schedule than the doctor planned.” In an airier tone, Lars continued, “That doesn’t matter much as we didn’t know his original schedule in the first place. Any questions?”
There were a few snorts at his phrasing.
“I… I think I’m good. Sorry for causing all the trouble.”
“You caused nothing.”
And there was no hiding the true blame from Lars’ voice, but Forrest didn’t mind much. He knew it wasn’t the end to their woes, but now, he simply needed the rest, and he hoped he wouldn’t hear the madman’s laughter in his sleep.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Chicken!