[So perhaps Ray could have gone for a simple nip or quick bite, but that seemed too weak compared to the shit this guy was threatening. He needed to get his opinion across, and his teeth had been his best point of contact for that, and while a nip would have hurt, hanging on like a bulldog hurt a whole lot more. After all, this guy had made him bleed so he was just returning the favour while fighting like a Chicago tough guy. And he does hang on, he hangs on through the yelling and the grappling and the metallic taste of blood seeping onto his lips and tongue.
It might have been that'd he'd let go eventually of his own accord when the satisfaction was enough or his jaw had ached, but who knew how long any of that could take. Could be hours. Armando's wise to try and find an escape route that doesn't involve hitting Ray around the head, and Ray hadn't quite been expecting there to be anything nearby that could release him easily. It's why he's almost jerking back as he feels the metal at his mouth, a forceful movement jarring his jaw open and finally getting him to release his hold on the other.
He'd expected that to be that. At least until Armando could retreat and lick his wounds and come back for round two, but Ray had to hand it to the guy for retaliating while still dribbling blood from his fresh bite. Those metal... what were they? Tongs? They were enough to agitate, Ray leaning against them just enough to try and bite back down on them until suddenly there's an imposing fucking object ramming at his open jaw, straight into the gap presented. A dildo. A huge fucking dildo that fills the entirety of his mouth and has him pinned back against the chair in an attempt to escape the invasion.
It did fuck with his head just to know something like that existed and was down in this creepy ass dungeon to start with. Made worse by the fact that it was right beside him. And now he was practically choking on it as his body fought against his gag reflex, entirely unused to that sort of sensation pressing down against his tongue and pushing to the back of his throat. Jesus, he doesn't want to choke on some oversized fake cock, but for a second he seriously wonders if that's the way he'll go as he meets the eyes of one pissed off mafioso.
Then there's that bag back in view and the straw brought to is nose and just for a few ridiculous seconds he's doing is best to hold his breath. It can't last though. It's virtually impossible to hold his breath when he's still soft gagging desperately. Naturally what follows a pause in breath results in a deeper inhale, which in hindsight isn't the best of ideas, but then just like that Armando's pulling back, leaving Ray to drop his head and choke back a few well needed breaths.
And then sniff.
And again.
His head snaps back up, blinking rapidly until he can focus on the figure that's glaring daggers at him like some murderous fucker-- but jesus, it feels like his brain just blew out the back of his skull. He can hear his own pulse, rushing in his ears, pumping at a million miles an hour as his heart kicks up a notch and it's like the weirdest combination of an anxiety attack and a massive adrenaline rush, which is pretty damn unfair considering he's tied up and can't do a fucking thing.
But he smiles. He smiles right back, lips and teeth still tinted red from the mobster's own blood.]
You asked for it, pal, literally asked-- ngh, fuck, my heart's gonna explode. I need to... to go.
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It might have been that'd he'd let go eventually of his own accord when the satisfaction was enough or his jaw had ached, but who knew how long any of that could take. Could be hours. Armando's wise to try and find an escape route that doesn't involve hitting Ray around the head, and Ray hadn't quite been expecting there to be anything nearby that could release him easily. It's why he's almost jerking back as he feels the metal at his mouth, a forceful movement jarring his jaw open and finally getting him to release his hold on the other.
He'd expected that to be that. At least until Armando could retreat and lick his wounds and come back for round two, but Ray had to hand it to the guy for retaliating while still dribbling blood from his fresh bite. Those metal... what were they? Tongs? They were enough to agitate, Ray leaning against them just enough to try and bite back down on them until suddenly there's an imposing fucking object ramming at his open jaw, straight into the gap presented. A dildo. A huge fucking dildo that fills the entirety of his mouth and has him pinned back against the chair in an attempt to escape the invasion.
It did fuck with his head just to know something like that existed and was down in this creepy ass dungeon to start with. Made worse by the fact that it was right beside him. And now he was practically choking on it as his body fought against his gag reflex, entirely unused to that sort of sensation pressing down against his tongue and pushing to the back of his throat. Jesus, he doesn't want to choke on some oversized fake cock, but for a second he seriously wonders if that's the way he'll go as he meets the eyes of one pissed off mafioso.
Then there's that bag back in view and the straw brought to is nose and just for a few ridiculous seconds he's doing is best to hold his breath. It can't last though. It's virtually impossible to hold his breath when he's still soft gagging desperately. Naturally what follows a pause in breath results in a deeper inhale, which in hindsight isn't the best of ideas, but then just like that Armando's pulling back, leaving Ray to drop his head and choke back a few well needed breaths.
And then sniff.
And again.
His head snaps back up, blinking rapidly until he can focus on the figure that's glaring daggers at him like some murderous fucker-- but jesus, it feels like his brain just blew out the back of his skull. He can hear his own pulse, rushing in his ears, pumping at a million miles an hour as his heart kicks up a notch and it's like the weirdest combination of an anxiety attack and a massive adrenaline rush, which is pretty damn unfair considering he's tied up and can't do a fucking thing.
But he smiles. He smiles right back, lips and teeth still tinted red from the mobster's own blood.]
You asked for it, pal, literally asked-- ngh, fuck, my heart's gonna explode. I need to... to go.