Green Arrow Gets Deathstroked Chapter 6: You've Cum to Nuttingham... Evan Andrews 2023
This is a fan fiction.
The characters in this story are based on characters belonging to and trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of ownership over the characters. This story exists outside of any DC continuity I'm familiar with.
This story should in no way be considered a true representation of the true sexuality of any of the original characters.
The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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"It's time for our revels to come to an end," Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator, said.
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Helping three totally-fucked-into-submission heroes out of the slings where they had been filled with so much cum that they could scarcely hold another drop, the villains—Slade, Merlyn, and Slade's son Grant—strapped leather bands around their thighs and the fixed slave wrist cuffs to the thigh bands. Ankle cuffs chained together made effective hobbles—the villains didn't really expect their victims to kick out, or try to run, but the restraints drove home their essential helplessness. Finally they fixed wide metal collars, like the one Ollie wore, around their throats.
In another part of the room, another spotlight shown down, and there the villains pressed their three hero victims face to face in a triangle of studliness. The three collars were attached to chains hanging from the ceiling (another reminder that they were not going anywhere) and their upper arms were cuffed together by the same setup that held their hands alongside their thighs. The worst part of being bound this way was that the heroes' hard dicks were batting at each other, and doing so made the captives even more desperate.
"Finally," Slade said, "We're going to let you cum, but these are the terms."
As Grant, Merlyn, and Merlyn's son Tommy took any play out of collar chains, the heroes waited in sweet agony to hear their fate. Their cocks slapped one against the others as they waited, and they were embarrassed to see how turned on they were by the situation. Originally, they had all blamed Slade's Haradonu drug, but after hours of abuse, all three had accepted that the drug must have worn off by now and that now their painfully rampant and leaking erections were the results of being turned on by the bondage and by the man-sex that had been forced on them.
"We could have brought you off at any time," Slade said. "You know that, but you've got so much sperm in you that when you all blow your wads it'll be like nothing you've ever experienced--or can imagine. And villain that I am, I wanted to make sure you all had a front-row seat for that. But you'll also have a close-up view of all three of you taking your last two seedings."
Ollie shot Slade a look of desperate pleading contempt.
"Yes, Ollie," Somehow I knew you'd feel that way, and it just breaks my heart."
"Please," Connor whimpered. "Bring me off."
"Yeah, fuck me already!" Roy sobbed, his previous defiance having long since been screwed out of him. "My balls are going to explode!"
"Villain's honor, I suppose," Slade said as he stepped up behind the Emerald Archer. "Gentlemen, for the last time, start your engines."
Slade shoved his piston into the archer's now familiar cum-hole and began to fuck. Grant and Merlyn followed suit in short order. As fuck-meat rode the sensitive zones in the heroes' butts, the heroes' own cocks slapped against one another, sword fighting like the kinkiest musketeers' battle frottale that you could imagine.
"Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck!" Roy moaned, and he spoke for all three defiled heroes.
The villains had saved their most creative techniques moves for this, it seemed. They didn't just pound, they pushed full in and ground around, rotating their asses and therefore their rods in the heroes' guts. They long dicked the keening bitches and even pulled out almost entirely and did nothing more than rub their cockheads over Team Arrows' prostates.
"Do it!" Ollie barked as his copious precum mixed with Connor's and Roy's and dripped to make a pool of degradation by their feet. "Give me your fucking load, Slade!"
Laughing, the villains slammed in as deep as their cocks would reach, and laid the penultimate coat of cock-paint in the heroes' guts.
"Fuck!" Ollie screamed.
"Last call," Merlin said, and he pulled Tommy up, directing his flesh and blood's meat into Roy's dripping man-cunt.
"Ah!" Roy cried, and he was joined by his Team Arrow mates as Joe and Gar rammed their slave-cocks into his and Connor's dripping asses.
Team Arrow moaned as the second string began to fuck, but the top-rank villains had a special addition to this their final humiliation. (Final, at least of this session.) Slade and Grant fell into line behind the Titan fuck slaves they directed and rammed villain cock up their slaves' asses. The sound of men being fucked doubled, especially when Merlyn, not being inclined to fuck his son, slid a vibrating dildo up Tommy's butt instead.
Ollie, deep inside, realized this was the last fuck and perversely decided to make the most of it. Slamming back against Gar's horse-cock, he took the Titan's green shaft deep. The archer had no idea what his boys were doing—he had his eyes screwed shut, concentrating on teasing out this last load as quickly as he could—but from the sounds, Roy and Connor were pursing much the same strategy. At least Ollie hoped it was a strategy on their parts, and not that Slade's cronies had raped his boys into perpetual sex-pig status.
Finally Gar gasped and tensed, something Ollie had learned meant he was about to cum.
"Give it to me, Gar!" Ollie screamed, and Gar did. As the emerald sex slave came, he screamed, "Thank you for breeding my ass, Master!"
It seemed Slade had seeded his boy at the same time that the Titan had seeded the archer.
Tommy cried out, "Cum...!" as he unloaded, and finally Grant howled, "That's right, Joey! Cum up his butt! Yeah, I can feel you milking my dick with your ass, bro! Fuck, I'm cumming too!"
The exhausted villains (Hey, nobody ever said being evil was easy) fell back, looking to Slade.
As lead villain and master of ceremonies, Slade produced a three-hole stroker and slid it down over the heroes' rigid shafts.
"Good of you to provide the lube," Slade teased.
Connor sobbed, and Roy gurgled, as their slick rods slid home inside the masturbator. Ollie sighed; the end was in—was sight the right word when the only eye in play, the one at the end of his dick, was blind?
"Are we close?" Slade asked the arrow boys as they thrust into the demon sex toy.
"Oh! Fuck! Yes!" Ollie answered (at the top of his lungs) for them all.
"Then get to fucking," Slade said. "Oh, and keep your eyes open. I want you to see when the others lose it."
Moving as much as their bondage allowed, the three heroes fucked up into the tight sleeves, over and over, feeling their shafts rub against the other two. Hero fuck-meat told overstimulated balls that this was not a drill, and the heroes' nut got ready to blow.
Ollie looked desperately at Roy and then at Connor.
"Come on, boys! Fuck that sleeve! Show me what you've got!"
`What they had' made its appearance only a couple of minutes later.
"Fuck, Ollie," Roy moaned. "I'm..."
"Yeah," Ollie said, "Me too. Connor?"
"Right with you, dad," Connor gasped.
"Then let's do it!" Ollie cried, and all three thrust deep into the artificial cunt. The Emerald Archer felt his cock pulse as rope after rope of semen shot out of his blind eye. Fuck, he also felt his boys' cocks pulsing, firing their own loads. It was unreal.
"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" Ollie grunted; Roy grunted; and Connor grunted.
Three hero dicks made a Bellagio of sperm, and as Slade had foretold the show lasted longer than the usual orgasm did.
"Fuck!" Ollie screamed, "I can't stop cumming! Slade!"
The three chained men danced like obscene marionettes, a dance of spasmodically demeaning and seemingly non-ending release. But every dance has to end eventually, and so did this one.
Team Arrow slumped as their legs gave out, but their metal collars caught them and held them upright until the villain crew could release the collars and allow the spent heroes to collapse to the floor in a heap of wretched flesh.
"You fucker," Ollie managed, barely, to gasp.
"What?" Slade said as he surveyed the results of his vengeance. "You came just now for nearly five minutes straight. Five minutes, Ollie. There are men that would pay good money to experience half that much orgasm."
"There are men who would die for it," Merlyn added.
"And we didn't charge you a red cent," Slade said.
"Or kill you," Grant added.
"You'll going to let us go now, right?" Roy whispered.
"Not quite yet," Slade said, and the arrow boys groaned. "We've had our fun, and you've had yours, but there's one final thing to take care of. Call it insurance against you three—"
"--Or your friends," Grant inserted.
"Right. Against anyone coming after my family and friends over this."
The assassin knelt down and said, "Nighty night, boys" before firing a spray of some knock-out gas into their faces.