Dead and Reburied | By : Casnia Category: +A through F > Borderlands Views: 14176 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor profit financially from, any Borderlands characters or stories. |
He didn't say much at first. Buried up to the shoulders, he must have been beyond bored. A bandit marauder, stuck in the floor of Moxxi's back room at Sanctuary. For months. Who knew how many dirty things he'd witnessed back there - or how he was still in the same physical state as he was when he was put there (...because Pandora). When Gaige had found him in this empty room, she had shut the door behind her and stood for a moment, listening to the muffled sounds of music and voices coming from the bar outside. She looked warily around the elaborately-decorated crimson and purple room, before her eyes fell back to him staring at the floor.
"Hey, you," she whispered. He did not respond. Instead, his head rolled around and fell back to stare at the ceiling. Gaige waited for a moment, indignation flaring briefly at having been ignored. "Hey!" Again, nothing.
She considered that he might be asleep. It was hard to tell; Blue lights shone from within his goggles and the rest of his head was covered by a deep red bandanna. Gaige stepped towards him slowly, her sneakers barely audible on the dirty floorboards. Her movement stopped about a meter from the buried man.
"Hey, asshole," she said, before plonking herself down cross-legged in front of him. His head slowly lifted to look in her general direction. Her head was resting in her hands.
"What's the deal," she prompted. "This some kind of pastime?"
The bandit's head flopped back to stare at the ceiling once again.
"What's the matter," Gaige continued, "you deaf or somethin'?" She continued to watch him breathing slowly, his head resting against the hood of his murky-blue jacket.
Gaige sighed, losing interest. She got up, tried to smooth down her skirt ...and then a dirty thought crossed her mind. After glancing around the otherwise-empty room again, she stepped forwards, ducking under the tacky curtains that were half-hanging from the ceiling. She placed her feet on either side of his shoulders, bending over to look at him, pushing her ass away from his line of sight and clasping her hands together between her thighs. He had been struggling, perhaps afraid of being kicked, but now his face was turned towards the wrench strapped to her ankle beside him. Slowly, his eyes (which she could only assume were open) travelled up her stripy, ripped stockings. Gaige smiled triumphantly.
"Do I have your attention now," she asked coyly.
"You think this is the first time I've been teased or tortured," the marauder finally spoke. Gaige frowned at the question. "You're pathetic, little girl."
It took her a moment to consider this.
"You're right," she said, straightening up and stretching her arms above her head. He could see right up her skirt, where her stockings were torn to the point of scarcity. A warmth spread across her sex, as if it could sense him staring at her tiny blue panties. "I'm just a silly little eighteen year old-..." She heard a slightly louder intake of breath. "I have nothing on Moxxi. I'm so ...inexperienced."
With that, she backed up and laid herself down across the tattered chaise longue against the wall opposite. She tried to suppress a giggle, as her fingers trailed up her thighs and underneath her skirt. Without giving herself a chance to hesitate, she slipped past her panties and began to finger herself, kicking off her shoes and curling her toes.
After getting herself worked up a little, she stole a sideways glance at the marauder. Again, she told herself he was watching intently, though it was impossible to tell. The doubt, however, egged her on. With her human fingers pumping away inside her, her mechanical hand unzipped her jacket and pushed her little red shirt up over her bra. She squeezed her breast and arched her back. A throbbing ache between her legs had begun to take over her impulses. Her head turned back to look at the prisoner with her eyes half closed and part of her pretty bottom-lip between her teeth. His head was tilted as he watched her. Her fingers slipped out and she began to rub herself through the thin fabric of her knickers, getting herself very close to what was promising to be an agonisingly good orgasm.
"Take them off," said the bandit, obviously referring to the now-soaked underwear. While her ego protested, Gaige wordlessly complied, her heart racing at the thought.
Lying back again, she bent her knees, bringing her pointed feet to rest closer to her bare ass. The marauder told her to swing her legs around to face him but it was too late; Gaige shook her head and came hard against her own fingers, her body twisting and shuddering and her mechanical hand clasping her mouth to stifle her cries of pleasure. The bandit again compulsively struggled against his earthy bonds in vain. The Mechromancer sighed, out of breath, and giggled indulgently as she brought her still-slick fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. The man stopped struggling and continued to stare at her, breathing heavily now. Far from finished, she picked up her panties, got up and slowly crossed the short room to him again.
"What makes you think a dirty bandit like yourself deserves to see my pristine little pinkness?"
"You...," he muttered menacingly, "...you just woke the wrong dog."
Getting down onto her knees before him, she scoffed and bent over to untie his bandanna.
"I think the wrong dog needs a new muzzle," she smirked, before feeling a pang of giddiness at the sight of his rugged face. She cast the bandanna to the side but left the goggles on his face; Seeing the rest of his human features made it considerably more real for her. He was possibly in his mid thirties, with stubble and short dark hair. Her smile returned and she stretched her panties over his face, before laughing uproariously. Again, another jolt of giddiness that almost winded her, when she looked back down and noticed him exhaling what would have been a long lungful of her scent, then dragging his tongue along the inside of the fabric. Her laughter turned into ragged panting and she went a little limp as she watched him. He continued to lick slowly but deliberately, a smile tightening in the corner of his mouth when he had presumably guessed that she'd noticed.
Gaige slid further forwards, knees on either side of his shoulders, sitting on her feet. She started touching herself again, making a point of moaning so that he knew what he was missing out on with the panties over his eyes. His little smile faltered and his licking stopped in its tracks, as she lay back with her back arched so that her flexible hips were at the same level as his face, just a foot or so away. Gaige had clearly not thought this one through: Not only could he see through the thin blue fabric, the bandit marauder need only extend his neck to bury his face in her pussy. After drinking in the blissful sight of the teenager rubbing her little clit for a while, the scent of her dampness filling his nostrils and the taste of it on his tongue, the man could almost feel her heat on his face.
Pushing the panties aside with his tongue, he stretched out and licked all the way up the length of her slit. Her mechanical arm came down hard onto the floor in response. The sensation was repeated, as the bandit did it again and again, mimicking what he had been doing to her underwear.
"Haahnh," she whimpered loudly, rubbing herself harder and faster, her hips bucking and body twitching with every contact from his tongue. His licks got deeper, his tongue dipping inside her more and more forcefully until he had his face pressed against her, lapping at her sweet spot. Gaige fell into a fit of almost-silent pleasure. Little helpless cries escaped her every time a wave of bliss shook her. The marauder showed no mercy; He didn't stop until he felt her walls spasming around his tongue - and he brought his head back to watch her come for him.
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