corpsefluid | Work Place Distractions

Work Place Distractions

Word Count: 1620
Fandom: Metal Gear
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Big Boss/Ocelot
Characters: Ocelot, Big Boss
Tags: Chastity Device
Summary: Big Boss develops concerns about Ocelot's use of his time and through completely misreading the situation attempts to remedy the issue. Ocelot is painfully frustrated.
More kink meme fic yet again.

"You're distracted, Ocelot."

As if on cue to prove the point Ocelot unintentionally let out a startled enough 'huh?' to show he hadn't actually been listening. Of course he was distracted, there was at least a dozen prisoners that he still needed to work over, Miller wanted reports on the information he was getting more than he wanted the actual information, three of the men had talked him into private training sessions somehow, and DD was still figuring out the finer points of just where he could pee. There were more important things he could be doing than talking about all the other things that also needed doing.

Ocelot knew better than that, he didn't need to be told all the things he wasn't doing in addition to the things that needed doing and the things that were already being done. He resigned himself to the talk, he could get more things done the sooner it was over with.

Big Boss on the other hand had no plans on solving issues by talking, instead taking the entirely unexpected, but far more direct approach of flipping Ocelot to the ground. Hard.

Flat on his back, winded and downright startled Ocelot didn't have a response. At least, not a coherent one.

Ocelot managed to get out a very confused sounding 'Boss?' before he realised Big Boss was tugging his trousers down. Underwear and all. This wasn't along the lines of anything he expected, but okay, Ocelot could work with this. He just needed to not completely and utterly embrasures himself.

No wait, never mind, that was a failed mission before it started. The second he was touched, his body had started responding. Being that easy was down right humiliating no matter how much you 'liked' the person manhandling you.

That thought was a short lived one, one very quickly replaced by a whole lot of yelp worthy pain Ocelot hadn't actually felt before and a whole lot of cold metal that definitely wasn't the Boss' prosthetic.

Big Boss had flicked the tip of his hardening cock to kill the erection in the making before Ocelot was truly going. It was hard enough to get one of these on someone without them having a boner. He didn't have the technique down to an exact science, but he'd at least mastered doing it quickly.

As soon as the metal cage was in place and locked, Big Boss took his weight off Ocelot to let him straight himself out on his own. "This'll help you keep it in your pants, I'll let you out on the weekend," and with that, he showed himself out.

'keep it in your pants'

'keep it in his pants'

Really? Seriously? What the ever loving fuck did Big Boss think Ocelot was doing with his afternoons? Keeping it in his pants was not the issue.

For severally moments of sorely disappointed, stunned silence, Ocelot couldn't bring himself to do more than lay there flat on his back with his pants around his knees. He absolutely needed those moments, to process what just happened, why that just happened, and finally to nurse his own injured genitals. It was just a little flick to the dick, but it still stung terribly.

With the ordeal of considering all this over, Ocelot finally brought himself to check what had just been put on him.

It was a chastity cage. Ocelot remember seeing photos of those things a few times, a cute idea, not for him personally. Why the boss thought he needed it against his will was entirely beyond him, he wasn't Miller after all.

The thought he'd done this to Miller sprang to mind. Must have been effective if He was trying it again, he'd have to remember to bully him about it sometime.

That didn't help Ocelot in the now however.

As Ocelot tried to straighten himself out, he was met with the realisation his trousers were far too tight to keep something like this discreet. He'd need to go 'borrow' something.

With a change of pants and getting back to work, it was actually easier to forget about than he'd imagined. Sometimes the cage would pinch if he sat wrong, but for the most part he could ignore it completely. It was the commandeered trousers that tended to annoy him most, they didn't sit on his legs the way his own usually did. Not to mention DD, being only a puppy, found the extra fabric amazingly entertaining to tug on while he was following Ocelot for his rounds.

Oh sure, the whole thing was unimaginably stupid, painfully so. Ocelot would live with it, his work still needed to be done even if it was sorely tempting to put everything off out of pure spite for the situation at hand.

He'd just have to take it out on his to-do list sitting in the brig.

They were going to be positively thrilled.

A few were set for a bit longer in sensory deprivation, they only needed to be checked on and then ignored, but cell number five, that one was definitely due in for a proper session with Ocelot.

After arranging the current project to be dragged out and set up, Ocelot assigned one of the men puppy-sitting duty. He thought about suggesting a couple fight over it, but decided to let the other 'supervise,' less of the men around meant he could clear his head.

Maybe even enjoy himself a bit.

It wasn't about information just yet, this one needed tenderising first. Which made this one an excellent candidate for personal stress relief, not that he'd admit that was the point. If anyone asked, Ocelot was just doing his job.

Ocelot peeled the bag off the man's head with a kind of glee that would have been better associated with unwrapping a present, keeping a little distance in case of any fluid projectiles meant in some act of arbitrary defiance.

The prisoner hissed in pain as he was blinded by the bright lights of the interrogation chamber, and simultaneously smacked in the face with the overpowering stench of bleach. Unreasonably hot in stark contrast to the cold mildew of the cell. It was all minor discomfort compared to what was probably coming.

Ocelot reached for the cattle-prod, eager to have this man screaming as soon as possible. An eagerness that was incredibly short lived.

Soon after he'd pressed electrodes to the man's flesh, Ocelot was interrupted by a pricking pain in the vicinity of his crotch. Forcing himself a straight face and upright posture, Ocelot persevered a good fifteen minutes before the spikes digging into his genitals got to him

Marching out of the room he managed to bark out a last order to one of the men by the door, "finish this up with a shower, I need to be somewhere," the 'very far away from the brig' was left unsaid. He'd need to get one of the boys he was still training in, as much as he hated the idea of letting the newer kids touch the prisoners unsupervised until he was sure they were ready to handle the job, keeping up with the intake would be difficult if he was going to stay cuffed in this infernal contraption for the week.

Supervising water boarding wouldn't have been too bad, but Big Boss needed a piece of his mind right now.

At least that was the plan. Five laps around the base, and actually asking, revealed he'd gone of base shortly after locking him in. Not due back until the end of the week.

Fucker.

Mother fucker.

Ocelot wasn't going to bring that particular conversation to the radio even if someone held a gun to his head.

If Big Boss expected Ocelot wouldn't be murdering someone before the end of the week though, he'd have definitely set the bar too high.

With some help from DD, Ocelot didn't exactly murder anyone. He did send more than a couple into the care of the medical team, but he didn't do anything necessarily permanent. In terms of simple stress and sleep deprivation, John should have considered it lucky that was all he did.

When the helicopter landed Ocelot was thoroughly undecided between strangling the man and flinging himself round his neck.

As soon as they were alone Ocelot surprised himself by doing neither of those things. Instead grabbing his collar, and shoving his tongue in his mouth. Only breaking to growl out “fuck me.”

Ocelot never imagined he'd be quite so forward if he ever asked Big Boss at all, but right now he was so absolutely frustrated and angry with everything it just came out. Either Big Boss fucked him or he was going to murder someone he probably shouldn't.

“If you don't fuck me right now, I am going to shoot the next soldier I see in both kneecaps, and I'm not entirely sure I won't do the same whomever I see after that.”

“Well, we can't have that,” John returned the kiss, pushing Ocelot back until he was lying back on the bed, lifting the man's wrists above his head as he pushed him bodily down.

Ocelot was very nearly embarrassed how easily this had him weak at the knees, even with the spikes digging into him, he could feel all the rage he'd been building up over the week melting away.

The moment ended very abruptly with a simple metallic click, and John breaking the contact. Tugging at his wrists, Ocelot found himself cuffed to the frame of the bed.

“There's other things I need to do first,” and with that comment John walked out of the room.

Ocelot couldn't muster anything more coherent than a scream.