The Paddle Team Vs. Green Thumb Duo Part 22
By WingNut
A Round Robin of the CS Insanity Central ML
Treize considered. He was pretty much immobilized - his hands held captive, his hips imprisoned between strong thighs, his cock buried deeply inside his slightly squirming lover. About the only thing he would change was the way said lover was also digging his heels into Treize's ass, spreading his cheeks apart.
Even that wouldn't be a problem if he weren't also being approached by the polite, rather diminutive, yet - Treize hardly dared admit it to himself - slightly scary leader of the PaddleTeam, who was holding a rather large probe in his hand.
Treize smiled slightly. He had planned a thousand battles against botanical pests. He was the revered leader of the Rose Brigade. He was accustomed to being in control at all times, and he resolved that he would not be caught so easily.
Instead of struggling, he leaned forward and licked a wet, warm line up his Dragon's spine, over the little indentations and bumps that recent experience had shown him were quite sensitive. A swiftly indrawn breath and an inadvertent tightening of internal muscles were the only obvious reactions, but they were more than enough to release the rigid tension in his lover's arms.
Quickly he drew his hands together, crossing his arms as if he were hugging his lover - while being careful to make no move to escape - and began massaging and stroking his way up his Dragon's biceps.
One of the blond's warm, gentle hands was fondling and stroking his own flank. He almost purred with pleasure, but caught himself in time. He would have to hurry, before he decided that he was enjoying himself too much to care if he lost control.
He moved his hands up just a little higher - and abruptly initiated the impossible-to-resist Armpit Tickle Attack. Dragon squeaked in a completely undignified way and instinctively tried to curl up into a ball, releasing his leg- lock without a second thought.
As soon as his hips were freed, Treize scooped up his lover and whirled around, sitting down protectively on the lab table which his Dragon had so recently been spread over. He squirmed back quickly until the edge of the table hit the insides of his knees - no sense taking any chances! He smirked at the little blond over the bronze shoulder of his 'prisoner', who was now curled up in his lap, still deliciously impaled.
**********
Quatre pouted.
One moment he was happily contemplating the uses to which he could finally put his beautiful wooden toy - he had never actually used it yet - and the next his nicely presented target had been whisked away and was being safely sat upon.
"Wufei," he said, disappointed, "you let him go."
Wufei lifted his head, peeking up at him with shame in his eyes. "I was weak," he admitted. Then a little glint appeared in those obsidian depths, and Chinese man slowly smiled. "But I didn't actually 'let him go...'"
Quatre frown disappeared as Wufei slowly lifted his hips, a look of thoughtful concentration on his face. Beneath him, the leader of the Rose Brigade suddenly bit his lower lip, but couldn't stop a groan of pleasure from emerging.
With growing assurance, Wufei settled back down, wriggling his hips slightly. The ginger-haired man's eyes crossed.
Wufei grinned at Quatre in a positively wicked fashion. "I may have started later than the rest of you, but I'm a quick study. You question him, I'll... administer the rewards for correct answers."
Quatre beamed happily. "OK!"
**********
Noin fled, barely holding in her tears.
She had been so close!! She had seen Colonel Zechs eat the french fry, had heard his moan of pleasure - surely that meant the chemicals in the mutated potato were working?! He should have become open to suggestions, perhaps even - she hardly dared think it - aroused, but when she had attempted to get closer to her long-worshipped idol, he had ordered her away! She just didn't understand it!
Her feet carried her swiftly into the deserted sickbay. Her heart may have been breaking, but she would follow her beloved commander's orders.
She flung herself down on an empty bed and thought over the details of what had happened. She had been pressed up close against his naked torso - his strong, firm, lean, naked torso - and it had been heavenly. He had shifted his hips away almost immediately, but not before she had felt the unmistakable pressure of hardened flesh inside his breeches.
So... he *had* been affected by the potato. But why had he ordered her away? He should have been overcome with lust...
She rolled over on the bed, frowning up at the ceiling in the empty room.
Wait a minute... bed... empty room... Of course!!!! He had told her to go the nearest available room with a bed in it!!
She sat up and hugged her legs gleefully. Her darling colonel had reacted positively to the drug, but hadn't wanted to grope her in front of strangers - who had those young men been, anyway? New recruits? - so he had ordered her away before he could throw her to the ground and ravish her. Not that she would have minded being ravished in the least, but her blond idol was too well-bred to give in to such base instincts in public.
He would make his excuses to the recruits, and he would slip away to sickbay as soon as he could, to be with her. And hopefully, before too long, she would be well-bred, too...
*********
Trowa stifled a moan as Greenthumb wiggled in his lap. Then the little minx looked over his shoulder and blinked charmingly. "Thanks, Trowa, you guys have been so good to me. No hard feelings about that thing at the Zoo, right?"
"No hard feelings?" Trowa repeated. He grabbed Duo's hips and pulled them down into his lap, rubbing his erection firmly against the mutant's pertly rounded rear. "Does this feel hard to you?"
"Oooooh, yessss, it does," Greenthumb breathed, rubbing back enthusiastically.
Nimble fingers reached around and began to loosen the laces on Trowa's leather pants, while the hips in his grasp twitched back and forth rhythmically, creating a delicious, if not- quite-substantial-enough, friction.
A drawn-out groan from the vine-tangled men in front of them made Greenthumb giggle a bit. "What do you suppose they're doing now?" he asked, mischievously, his hands still busy with the leather laces.
"This," Trowa replied, reaching into Duo's lap and firmly grasping the generous erection he found there. He began to pump, slowly.
"Ooooooooh! And... do you... mmmmmmthink... they're... doing... this?!" The last word was punctuated by slender fingers burrowing into his gaping fly and squeezing his own hard shaft.
"Mmmmaybe..." Trowa gasped. Oh, it felt so good, and yet he wanted more.
He scooted Duo around so that the mutant was sitting sideways in his lap. His right hand kept working steadily up and down, while the left slid behind the curtain of silky hair and began to fondle the sweet pink cheeks hiding there.
Greenthumb squirmed deliciously - apparently his ass was still a bit tender - but Trowa was delighted to note that he was wriggling into the caress, not away from it. Firm squeeze followed slow stroke followed teasing pinch, and soon Duo was writhing mindlessly in his arms.
Trowa leaned in and nipped at the mutant's slender neck. A few more judiciously applied caresses, and he could feel Duo catch his breath and stiffen for an endless minute, while warm, sticky liquid spurted through his fingers.
Greenthumb went limp, a delightfully boneless armful snuggling against his chest. Trowa smiled down at him, amused to note that even his come had a slight greenish tint to it. He touched the tip of his tongue experimentally to one of his sticky fingers, and was pleased with the resulting spicy flavour. Sweet, he thought, licking enthusiastically, and sort of like cinnamon...
Then expressive green eyes were looking up at him, shining with happiness. "That," a wicked little smile lit the gamin face, "was great. How can I ever repay you?" Long lashes fluttered seductively.
**********
>CRACK<
Private Johnson went flying as Lt. Col. Une backhanded him. On second thought, it had definitely been a mistake attempting to couch the news of the potato mixup as a humorous misunderstanding. Perhaps a cute little song and tapdance routine would have gone over better.
Johnson wisely realized that getting up would only get him knocked down again, so he stayed where he had landed between two filing cabinets and waited for the storm to pass.
It was actually rather fascinating, in a terrifying way, to watch the psychotic colonel pace and mutter to herself, but what was with the taking off the glasses and then putting them back on? She seemed to do one or the other every second sentence as she argued with herself.
Finally she removed the glasses and pinched her nose. "You'd better get that nose looked at, Private," she said in a soft voice. "It looks broken. Go to sickbay and take the rest of the day off."
Johnson nodded and scrambled up, making for the door before she changed her mind.
**********
Private Peters whistled as he chopped up the celery. Kitchen duty wasn't so bad. It was more than outweighed by the delicious hour he'd had with Johnson before they were caught. He sighed, happily reminiscing about their 'active dereliction of duty.'
His calm was shattered when Lt. Col. Une prowled into the kitchen and demanded to see his potatoes. Hoping 'potatoes' wasn't a code word for something, he heaved the twenty-pound bag up on the counter and stood at attention.
Une pulled a potato out of the bag and glared at it. "Have you ever been into the lab before?" she asked in a dangerous tone of voice.
Recognizing one of the colonel's more strange moods, the terrified Peters quavered, "No, ma'am!" not sure if that was the answer that would let him live or not.
He was half-expecting the backhanded blow that knocked him to the floor, but it still hurt.
"I wasn't talking to *you*," the colonel informed him icily, "I was talking to the potato." She glared at the vegetable again.
Private Peters' jaw slowly sagged open. Oooooookay. He wondered if he could make it to the door before she could throw a paring knife into his back. No, he'd better not chance it. She was crazy, but she was a damned fine gardener all the same, and he had once seen her nail an aphid with a pair of pruning shears at 20 paces.
"Where is the experimental potato hiding? Hmmmm?" She turned the tuber in her hands, angling it so that the bright lights overhead shone into some of its many eyes. "So you won't talk, hmmm? Private!"
"Y-yes, ma'am!?"
"Set up..." she paused significantly, "the deep fat fryer." She smirked at the potato in her hand. "We'll see how cooperative you are when the oil is boiling."
Peters rushed to do her bidding. While the oil was heating in the deep fryer, he helped arrange the other potatoes around it, 'so they could all have a good long look at their fate' as the colonel put it.
Almost as soon as the potatoes were all lined up on the counter, Une removed her glasses and moaned. "This is wrong - we shouldn't be fighting each other!" She held her potato up in front of her face and said earnestly, "We should help each other find that poor, lost potato, before it causes any more strife and discord!"
Her misty eyes travelled to Peters, looking him up and down. "Private, you have a nasty cut over your eye - go have it seen to immediately, please. And don't worry about supper - you're excused from your duties for today."
Peters nodded and edged towards the door. Sickbay sounded like a good idea. At least they would have tranquillizers there.
**********
Alex held onto the precious potato in his pocket. Really, it had been ridiculously easy to steal it and replace it with the control. Mueller signalled him from the corner, and he slipped down the hallway to join his friend. Soon they would be in the kitchen, and then...
Then they would decide how their booty could best be used.