Summary: As the fingers tested the edge, they slipped over and brushed across Leonardo’s mouth. Leonardo couldn’t help startling back. The motion faintly rustled the chain at his throat and made the door knock against its latch. He’d been leashed to the stall door, forced only an inch from the glory hole that Michelangelo had created, and the padlock knocked against his throat.
Vital Stats: (PWP) tcest (??? x Leonardo) gloryhole!Bondage (’cause there isn’t hardly any of this kink out there at all)
Note: This is really self-indulgent id-fic where Mikey puts a coin box on Leo and won’t let him go ‘till it’s got a dollar in change. Shut up, I like it. Dunno if I’ll write more on it, but I had to write it to get it out of my head.
The door opened. A sliver of light fell from the lair, spilling into the bathroom. Leonardo only spotted it from under the stall, a shadow that was one of his brothers in the doorway, and then the light vanished again.
Footsteps came nearer, and a hand pushed on the first stall door. It swung in, and the footsteps came closer again. Another stall, another open door.
Donatello? Raphael? It couldn’t be Michelangelo–unless he was intentionally ramping up the suspense. Whoever it was knew that Leonardo was in here, easily available for their use, but they didn’t know he was in the last bathroom stall, waiting as each door was tried.
He swallowed once, difficult to do with the gag in his mouth. This had to be a joint effort between his siblings. Michelangelo couldn’t have crafted the steel ring holding his mouth open nor the strong leather straps that kept it firmly behind his teeth. He’d tried to force the ring gag out several times, but it refused to budge, keeping his mouth ready for use.
The footsteps stopped in front of him. Whoever it was gave the door a tentative push, and then a hand lightly swept over it. The hand found the freshly cut hole, its surface smoothed with duct tape. As the fingers tested the edge, they slipped over and brushed across Leonardo’s mouth.
Leonardo couldn’t help startling back. The motion faintly rustled the chain at his throat and made the door knock against its latch. He’d been leashed to the stall door, forced only an inch from the glory hole that Michelangelo had created, and the padlock knocked against his throat.
The padlock, and the small box attached to the chain around his neck. A lone coin jingled in the box, sounding like a bell on a cat’s collar.
Something firm and wet touched his lips, bumping against first his upper lip, then lower as his brother aimed, finally threading a thick cock through the ring gag.
Leonardo leaned back as far as he could, just an inch, and the cock came through farther, filling his mouth and laying heavily on his tongue. Despite the indignant heat that rose to his face, he began bob his head, sucking on the cock with full effort, and in response, the cock hardened and thrust deeper into his mouth. He coughed and turned his head, swirling his tongue around the head as he tried to spare the back of his throat.
The rhythm increased. He couldn’t keep up, facefucked as the cock thrust in and out of him. He’d been left kneeling, and now he spread his legs as much as he could, fighting the tight tie on his ankles. The cock pushed against his mouth, almost destroying his balance, and Leonardo wished his hands weren’t locked behind his back in heavy chain.
His brother quickened his pace, then drove in as far as he could, driving the cock deep into Leonardo’s mouth. There was a shudder, and then cum flooded his mouth. Swallow or choke–but he couldn’t swallow it fast enough, and a small white trickle leaked down from the corner of his lips, impossible to wipe away. Another trail strung from the head of the cock as it withdrew, further decorating his face. There was a relieved sigh from the other side, but he still couldn’t tell who it was.
Something metallic tapped the hole. Surprised that he’d forgotten, Leonardo leaned closer to the glory hole, pressing the box through. A coin slipped through the slot, tumbling into the box. There was no way to tell what kind it was. He hoped it was a quarter, but knowing his siblings, he’d be lucky if it was a penny and not just a washer.
A finger slid through the hole again, finding the chain and following it until they touched Leonardo’s chin. Then a sweep of the ring gang, a light touch to his cheek…and a firm flick against his cheek. Not a slap–his brother couldn’t get enough movement or force to sting–but enough of a snap on his skin to tease him. Leonardo leaned out of reach, and the other’s low laugh made the blood rise to his cheeks.
And then their footsteps left the bathroom, standing in the doorway only an instant as the door swung shut again, leaving Leonardo in darkness again. He adjusted his position, trying to ease the weight on his sore knees, the rising bruises on his wrists. His mouth ached to close but the ring gag would not budge. In resignation, he leaned his head on the door, wishing he could at least clean himself off.
Long minutes stretched by. Five minutes. Ten. Michelangelo had warned him that this was meant to be training, and going without sight or sound left him wanting that quick flash of light, longing even for the sensation of a brother on the other side of the door. For the touch and rush of them using him. For the sound of a coin dropped in his box.
The bathroom opened again. He opened his eyes, trying to see the shadow…but it disappeared just as quickly, and the footsteps came down the row of stalls, stopping in front of his door.