โIโve never seen a dick that small. Are you sure itโs even there? Itโs not worth my time anyway. Get on your knees and make yourself useful.โ
He wants to refuse, wants to fight, everything in him is screaming to fight back, show his dominance…He’s been reduced down to a plaything. A fucktoy if he’s being specific. Though sometimes, bits of him want to fight, want to bite back. No. He’d be good. For once.
‴yes….yes, sir.‴
It’s nearly a cough, nothing more than whispered words as he falls to his knees, eyes tired and knees aching. There’s a moment there where he sort of forgets what he’s doing, so he just stares, expression a little lost until he lifts his hands to undo the other’s pants. Man, he was in deep.
“Don’t you look good on your knees with all that cum in your face.” “You’re not allowed to wear underwear tomorrow when you go out.” “Bend over the windowsill so I can fuck you and you can look outside and smile at the neighbours.” “Spread your legs and finger yourself. Look me in the eyes so I can see your pleasure.” “No, you’re not allowed to wear anything today. And no, I’m not closing the curtains.” “When I count to ten, you’re going to cum.” “You look good getting fucked… Now smile for the camera.” “You’re going to put that inside of you and I’m going to keep the remote and give you pleasure whenever I feel like it. Maybe even tomorrow when you’re having that presentation you’ve worked so hard for.” “Look at you all tied up with cum running down your legs… I think I’m going to keep you there for a while. Maybe show you off to my friends.” “I want you to record yourself masturbating and then you’re going to send it to me so I can decide whether it’s good enough to put online. Now don’t disappoint me.” “Wear this collar so everyone knows you’re mine.” “I want you to leave the bathroom door unlocked whenever you’re in there. You don’t deserve privacy.” “I’ve got a party tonight. I want you to be the ‘special entertainment’, if you get my drift.” “Look at that tail. Doesn’t it suit you well, pet? I’ll feed you if you behave.” “From now on, whenever someone asks you where you got those bruises, you’re going to tell them your Master gave them to you as a gift.” “Now stick out your tongue so I can cum on it.” “I’ve never seen a dick that small. Are you sure it’s even there? It’s not worth my time anyway. Get on your knees and make yourself useful.” “Lick up the mess you made.” “Oh look at you being all flustered. I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to cum for another week… at least.”
Every handler is different, but the Soldier is quick to adapt;; some refer to an actual chair when speaking about a seat (like the scientists—but usually they mean the chair), other’s like Rumlow want him on the floor. He doesn’t care. He plops down with his hands on his thighs, unthreatening.
“Information acknowledged,” he responds because there isn’t much else to say. Then his gaze drops, a photo at the back of the newspaper catching his attention. It’s a man in a blue uniform with a star on his chest. He looks vaguely familiar—-
Brock reaches out with a hand to pet through the locks of the Asset’s hair, eyes flicking across the newspaper for a bit before he starts flipping through, now actively covering up the stupid Captain from view of the other. Shit.
‴ya know, if Pierce gets wind of you lookin’ at the newspaper, I’m sure he’ll have a few…words with ya.‴
Of course words didn’t mean words. Meant beatings. Maybe the chair if the kid was…lucky. Beatings couldn’t be worse than forgetting. Could it? He didn’t know. He didn’t get beat or brainwashed. Ah, the adventures of being the Winter Soldier!! Sarcastically speaking, of course.
