Leaving His Mark

[corpsefluid]

Leaving His Mark 

Word Count: 1273
Fandom: Metal Gear
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Ocelot/Solid Snake, Big Boss/Ocelot
Characters: Ocelot (Metal Gear), Solid Snake
Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Eye Trauma, Kink Meme, Skull Fucking, Eye Gouging, Gore, Guro, Non-Consensual
Summary: Some good old fashioned skullfucking, written for the kink meme.

David was so young and so very angry, he really did look just like Him though. Just like John did so many years ago. It almost felt like yesterday looking at him.

It wasn't though, even if Big Boss wasn't, for all intents and purposes, dead, John was in his sixties when he was killed. It was hard to forget when Ocelot himself was closing in on the same age.

Looking down at the clone like this was still nice, it wasn't quite right with both his lovely blue eyes still intact, but close enough, Bound and gagged, David couldn't say anything to ruin the moment.

Though he was certainly thinking it, Ocelot could tell.

It was getting Ocelot hard either way. There was always pleasure in hurting someone, but the Les Enfants Terribles were a special case, always.

David was so exhausted and in so much pain and yet he was still ready to fight Ocelot. He wasn't going to give up, no matter what Ocelot did to him.

Fortunately there wasn't anything Ocelot needed from him, of course there were things Ocelot wanted, but he didn't need them. On the other hand, not everything he wanted required cooperation, either.

Gripping David's hair tightly, Ocelot bent down to his level, pressing an unusually gentle kiss to his right eye.

David jerked in Ocelot's grip.

He didn't understand, and it was probably better that way. David would never be his father and Ocelot understood that entirely, but part of him still wanted to own the boy. Mark him in a way that would never leave him and couldn't be taken away by someone else, like he had with John.

A knife was different from a muzzle burn, it was better that way though, since it wasn't about making him into Big Boss. He had much more control over a knife, and like this is was so very personal.

Ocelot twisted the small pocket knife he'd taken from his pocket in his free hand, considering it as David watched. It was cruel and deeply wrong to consider it at all, but Ocelot wasn't exactly a pinnacle of morality. He soon decided the satisfaction would outweigh the guilt of it, tightening his grip on David's scruffy brown hair before driving the short knife into his right eye.

The muffled scream around the gag sent electricity up Ocelot's spine.

It was a shallow stab, he was careful about how deep it went into the eyeball. He didn't want anything more important cut, aside from the eye itself, he only wanted the wound to be superficial. He didn't want David to die.

Ocelot pulled the knife free with a twist, nicking the eyelid on it's exit. It would bleed, and more than likely scar, but it most definitely wouldn't kill him. That was the important part, hurting but not dead, a dead person was just a thing, things didn't feel and didn't talk. Ocelot didn't want a thing.

As soon as he let go of David's head, he started thrashing wildly. Convulsing on the floor like it could make the pain stop, it was like he was being electrocuted, (Ocelot would have to try that with him later.)

The blood from the wound quickly made a mess, facial wounds always bled excessively for their size. As beautiful as it was, it wasn't doing much for Ocelot physically. Even with a healthy appreciation for anticipation, Ocelot wanted the contact now more than almost anything.

Ocelot threw a heavy kick to Snake's ribs to wind him and distract from the recently destroyed eye. Taking advantage of the injured man trying to catch his breath, to straddle his shoulders, firmly planting his weight on his heaving chest.

Shoving his fingers into David's hair and looking down into his eyes again, Ocelot was painfully reminded of just how long it had been. Through all that pain and terror, he could still see his father. David looked so much like John, and John had been gone so long... It was the kind of pain that almost made Ocelot hesitate.

David wasn't Him and he never would be. If Ocelot pretended it was lust and nothing more, he didn't have to feel it, if he didn't feel it wouldn't hurt. Things only mattered if he focused on them, it was much easier to press his erection up against Snake's jaw.

Ocelot rolled his hips against the pressure with a soft groan. It was like scratching an itch that had been bothering you for weeks. He couldn't quite recall how long it had been, just that there was a deep sense of relief in something that felt like intimacy. Even though Snake would never realise just how much it meant.

When he finally unzipped and unbuttoned, freeing his cock to the open air, Ocelot wasn't nearly so lost in the delusion that he'd risk Snake's teeth.

Though perhaps if Snake knew what Ocelot was considering, he'd have taken the trade off.

Ocelot shifted his weight to his knees, leaning over Snake. It was a sick little fantasy, one that he'd never mention to John, but came to mind just to remind himself of the reality. It wasn't John's face between his legs.

Ocelot lined his cock up with the wounded eye, pressing against it slowly. Watching the jelly spill from the ruptured eyeball as the head of his dick pushed it out of the way.

Snake was thrashing again, yelling things that couldn't be made out through the gag. Though Ocelot kept a grip on his hair, Snake managed to dislodge him. Smearing the gore down his face and Ocelot's cock.

As Ocelot made a few half-hearted attempts to really get himself in. The struggle was doing more for him than the actual goal, he was far too long to get much out of trying to fuck the socket, he knew that, but Snake's struggling... Well, Snake was mostly just succeeding in rubbing Ocelot's cock all over his face.

It wasn't enough to get Ocelot off, but it was something he could appreciate. He wanted more from it, but something like this would need to wait until the boy was more broken in. As appealing as seeing that hole dripping with semen was, it wasn't something that was going to happen today. Maybe not even tomorrow.

He could jerk off for it, but it seemed like a cop out at this point. Ocelot wanted something a little more real feeling for now.

Ocelot stood and pulled away, avoiding looking Snake in the eye this time as the man struggled to squirm his body away. To curl up on himself and protect his wound from further violation.

Ocelot grabbed Snake's legs, dragging him away to twist him onto his belly. Yanking Snake's trousers down around his thighs so he cloud straddle his legs, pressing his gore coated cock against Snake's backside.

He couldn't be bothered with the effort of preparation, but the blood on him was too sticky to really penetrate anyone without it. So Ocelot settled for sliding his dick between Snake's ass-cheeks, it wasn't as satisfying but it would do well enough for getting him off.

It brought up the illusion of intimacy again, that tempting little pretend world where John was alive and with him.

Rather than let the guilt settle, Ocelot forced himself to become rougher about it all. Banging Snake's head against the concrete floor as he thrust against his body. The tacky blood crumbled and chaffed in the friction.

It was only after he'd come and left the room, that he'd stop and think. Only then that he'd cry.