The Batter had no idea how he got himself into such a mess. It was Zacharie’s Cheshire charisma, perhaps, or something much more Freudian. Either way, he did not foresee himself on all fours – hatless, exposed, and vulnerable - before the merchant with his dick in his mouth.
Or maybe the Puppeteer was a sick bastard. That was a distinct possibility.
If either decision was true, Batter could care less. Part of him liked this. Part of him liked this sick, twisted impure action. Part of him liked a hand gripping his hair, a dick hot and heavy on his tongue. He was not down on his limbs for lack of credits; he needed nothing and he had plenty of credits.
He refused to admit it to himself, of course.
He heard Zacharie chuckle. When he glanced up, Batter saw that the merchant had pushed his mask up some to show his shit eating grin and for him to hear “how good of a little bitch Batter was being.”
And as a ‘reward,’ Batter found himself at Zacharie’s mercy as he started rocking his hips.
Still, the Batter sucked lips tight around the erotic appendage, dragging his tongue on the underside as it moved, and grunting as his mouth was full.
“Oh, y-yes, you’re quite good at this, aren’t you?” his companion panted, “You’re not doing this for the credits, either. I don’t even have to see that.”
Batter reached up a hand and held his hips in place, ignoring the snarling protests above him. He bobbed his head quickly, stroking as he pulled away with his free hand and teasing the tip when he could. He watched as Zacharie bend at his waist, thick white cotton and heart folding as he did so. Part of him felt pleased with himself; he was showing who was really at whose mercy.
That sense of pride was jerked away as Zacharie yanked at Batter’s hair, causing him to be up on his knees and releasing Zacharie’s hip. He hissed at the stinging, and found himself soon opening his mouth again to the masked man, nearly gagging as Zacharie buried himself balls deep and spilling himself into the puppet’s mouth without warning.
Batter swallowed once, twice, feeling the white dribble running down his bottom lip. He heard Zacharie chuckle as he wiped his chin.
“You’re a good puppet,” Zacharie praised. “They must be proud.”