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“An apology blowjob does not make up for a botched heist.”
Maddox says this in a tone just as disinterested and unimpressed as anything else he’s said to Io today. The way he’s been acting, you’d think Io was the one who called up station security and brought a swarm of guards down on them.
“Not an apology blowjob,” Io replies cheerily, stretching as best they can with one hand cuffed to a table leg. “That would imply I’m sorry and/or responsible for something, which I’m not, because I did everything that I was supposed to.”
Their makeshift holding cell is one of the few rooms in Station Epsilon’s treasury that doesn’t have a luxurious carpet covering its floor, and sitting on metal paneling for an hour has been a literal pain in the ass. Io’s going to go crazy if they don’t find something to do other than playing the same electronicore song in their head on repeat or scratching dicks into the underside of the table.
Maddox’s brow furrows deeply. “Clearly you didn’t, because you were supposed to handle cams and comms, prevent anyone from knowing we were –”
“I think you’re missing the point,” Io interrupts. Maddox shuts up, tugging irritably at the collar of his long jacket. “And the point is that we both know security isn’t coming back anytime soon.” Thus, Io has plenty of time to enjoy a cock in their mouth.
After a long pause, Maddox angles his body towards Io, muttering, “Can’t believe I let Stephen convince me to work with you.”
Being handcuffed to separate legs along the short side of the table gives them some room to move but doesn’t prevent them from touching. The real restriction is their cuffed arm, but this new position allows Io to ease themself down on one elbow between Maddox’s legs without twisting their arm awkwardly.
Or it will. They’re not quite to that point yet. For now, Io tucks their legs to the side and leans forward on their free arm. Their curls are just long and mussed enough by capture to tumble down along their brow. This isn’t exactly a true attempt at seduction, although they are wearing their slutty little v-neck, which means the shimmering line of their collarbones is on display.
Maddox’s gaze shifts, squinting at them from under featherlike eyelashes.
Too pretty to be a thief, their cousins had said once. Io had laughed and brushed on more glitter and proceeded to steal their cousins’ last haul right out from underneath them. They’d been banned from the family group chat for a few months, but it had been worth it.
And the glitter does have its uses, whether that’s in distracting security guards or doing whatever it’s doing to Maddox right now. However annoyed he might be, he can’t hide that he’s a little interested: his breathing’s picked up, there’s a bit of color in his cheeks. His legs are stretched out loosely in front of him, and a hiss of breath escapes him when Io rests their free hand on his knee.
“No cameras, no windows,” they say, almost as appeasement, but Maddox cuts in.
“I know,” he says, his voice a little lower, intense in a way that isn’t just irritation. “Wouldn’t stop you either way, though, would it?”
“I’ve never been opposed to putting on a show.” And they’re not embarrassed about it. They run their hand from Maddox’s knee down along his shin, watching his eyes follow their fingers over the sleek, sturdy fabric of his pants. Hells, Io is so unbearably bored. They just want to suck his dick. “So?”
Maddox makes a sound between a grunt and a sigh – as if he’s so put upon by Io’s offer – and then his free hand is fumbling at his belt. Some clanking and unzipping later, he pulls his cock out through his fly.
“Aww, you don’t have two of them?” they say, pretending to look put out about it.
His hand stays at his belt, ready to put his dick away at any moment. “Shut up.”
Io giggles, moving between Maddox’s legs and swatting his hand away so they can see what they’re working with. “What? One of the best parts of Station Epsilon is the diversity of dicks.”
Maddox grunt-sighs again, but Io ignores him, distracted by what really matters. His cock is the same tan as the rest of him but for the flushed head, and mostly humanoid other than the lacy frills tracing its length, one along each side and then another stretching from testicles to tip underneath. The frills are the same as those that run along Maddox’s throat and forearms, the ones ever so slightly visible past his collar and sleeves – translucent, peachy-pink, almost delicate. Completely at odds with Maddox’s gruff persona and general rugged look, with his worn leather jacket and the gray streaks in his short, scruffy beard.
“Oh…” Io strokes up the side of his dick and the frills along the underside of it flutter. They look over at Maddox with a delighted smile on their face; he’s flushed, frowning. “That’s a neat feature.”
“My body is not the newest phaser weapon,” Maddox says roughly.
“You’re right.” A squeeze around the base and his dick twitches, its frills extending as he hardens. “It’s much more fun.”
Maddox hisses when they carefully pinch the bottom frill between their thumb and forefinger to marvel at its sleekness. It’s almost like webbing, thin yet flexible. Io starts to lean forward with parted lips, but Maddox puts out a hand to stop them from getting any closer, curling his fingers tight in their hair like he’s afraid they’re going to do permanent damage to his soft bits. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Come onnnn,” Io pouts, slipping out of his grip and dropping down onto their elbow, near enough for their breath to ghost against his dick. “I just want to show you how dexterous my tongue is.” It flicks out of their mouth, tapered tip tasting Maddox’s hunger on the air. He gets the typical look Io’s partners have upon realizing their tongue is longer and more nimble than expected: mild unease layered over curious arousal. Just like all the others, he can’t help but wonder what exactly Io can do with that tongue of theirs.
Rather than jump to lick Maddox from top to bottom as they’re tempted to – knowing he’ll be delicious – they gather up saliva in their mouth and let it drip down onto his dick. He keeps watching them with a needlessly defensive stiffness to his posture, though he relaxes once they spread their spit over his cock and start to pump him leisurely. Io’s hands are soft and well-moisturized, the hands of a thief who hasn’t been an alley-urchin in years. But they’re still the hands of a thief – steady with each flick of their wrist and precise with every caress along the sensitive juncture of frill and shaft.
“Thought you were going to use your mouth,” Maddox grunts, and Io can’t blame him. A hot, wet hole can be a rarity for those with tightly packed criminal schedules.
They smile at him while feeling over his sac where the bottom frill ends – a very nice spot, by the way his cock drools out precum. Now that they know they can suck Maddox off, they’re going to take advantage of the opportunity to entertain themself. That means there can be a bit of foreplay, a bit of edging, working themself up imagining his dick pulsing beneath their tongue. “I’m enjoying my new phaser,” Io says, not only gripping his shaft like they’re holding a pistol but going so far as to approximate the sound of phaser fire with a very unrealistic pew pew.
Maddox looks like he’d rather face a life sentence than have them do that ever again. His expression sharpens when Io leaves his cock and raises themself up to reach for his face. He backs up, eyes narrowed and cuffs jangling with the sudden movement. “The hell are you trying to do?”
“Trying to make things more comfortable for you,” Io says, and it really must be a long time since Maddox has gotten his dick wet, because even with their vague explanation he only mutters a few curses under his breath before he ducks forward enough for Io to have access to his mouth.
And their goal is, in fact, accessing his mouth, because they’re greedy and impatient and fuck foreplay. Their attempt at an actual kiss is lazy and brief, and then they’re focused on feeding as much of their tongue into Maddox’s mouth as they can without him panicking or choking. He’s a good sport, all things considered – only tries to bite them once, and his silly teeth are too dull to do any harm. They lick all around his mouth, the soft flesh of his inner cheeks, the smooth curve of his hard palate. All the sensation sends shivers down their spine. His tongue wrestles with them half-heartedly until Io wraps theirs around it; the way it wriggles within the twisting confines they’ve created feels like he’s fucking them. Their eyes roll back at just the thought.
When Io does finally pull back, it’s with a mouthful of Maddox’s spit. He’s winded, trying to catch his breath while mopping up excess saliva with his sleeve. “What the fuck was that?”
Io smiles with their eyes since their lips are pursed, and then they let the spit steadily dribble onto his dick. It jerks slightly with the first impact and again when Io spreads the shiny trail around its length. Maddox watches with his nose wrinkled, but the tautness of his frills belies his apparent disgust. Io spits the remainder out into their palm and uses it to slick him up thoroughly, their fist squelching with every pump.
“A show of dexterity,” they reply brightly. The arousal hot on his breath leaves their tongue tingling. He’s as hungry as they are.
Maddox snorts, but the fact that he’s still breathless demonstrates that he’s far from unaffected.
“You still want my mouth?” Io teases.
He stares at them a moment before his face cracks into a grudging, teeth-bared grin. “Can’t say I’ve ever had to ignore my sense of self-preservation to get a blowjob before. But I’ll be damned if I’m not about to do it.”
With a tinkling laugh, Io eases back down between Maddox’s legs and finally gets a taste of his cock – their spit and his spit and the bitter salt of sweat and precum all mixed up together. Better than that is the tender, slick skin under their tongue, the slide of his foreskin as they lave over his tip. His frills flutter in response to every move they make, sending sparks of pleasure to the very root of their tongue.
After taking their time to lick over every inch available, from his balls to his red-flushed tip, Io wraps their tongue around his dick. Given that he’s got a decently sized dick, they can only loop it once or twice around, nowhere as thoroughly as they’d contained his tongue. Of course, Maddox still sucks in his breath through his teeth when Io sinks down on his cock, the pressure of their tongue and the wet heat of their mouth combining to make an unheavenly vacuum. They keep going until his cockhead hits the back of their throat, and their mouth is so utterly full of dick that their pleased moan is barely audible – the real proof that they moaned at all is in Maddox’s groaned response as their mouth and throat vibrate around him.
“Damn it all to hell,” he says, grabbing onto the links between shackles with his cuffed hand and holding on for dear life. “You trying to suck out my soul through my cock?”
Io’s too focused to respond with more than a sound that’s equal parts ambiguous and muffled (which prompts another groan from Maddox). Up to this point, Maddox has been so out of his depth that he hasn’t been able to do much other than take what Io gives him. But now that he’s getting used to Io’s full oral assault – as much as anyone can get used to it – his hips are starting to rock back and forth. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t be an issue; having their mouth fucked is one of the best ways to get off. It’s because of their particular positioning, what with the handcuffs, that Maddox’s participation proves a bit inconvenient.
Just as Io is about to press Maddox’s hips down, though, he moves in a way that scrapes his frills against their teeth. He jerks back, tugging his cockhead out from their throat, and with little more than a low, “Shit,” he comes in their mouth, cock trussed up in their tongue. The suddenness surprises Io as much as it does Maddox, but they’ve done this enough that they keep rubbing him off with their tongue even as they catch all of his cum in their mouth. Or most of it, at least – there’s still some left dripping down his shaft when they ease off his dick.
“You’re pretty damn good at that,” Maddox admits, and he must think he’s done now but he’s a fool if he thinks he’s getting off that easily. “Guess I underestimated you.” He gives them a funny look as they use their cuffed hand to drag themself up onto their knees, still holding his cum behind pursed lips. “What’re you up to?”
Io rises on their knees so that they’re looking down on Maddox, letting their restrained arm dangle awkwardly behind them. With their free hand they beckon him forward and tap lightly on his jaw, an order to open his mouth.
Maddox tenses, his prior stubbornness resurfacing. “Oh, hell no.”
They tug at his bottom lip. They’re not asking.
And despite the irritation in his voice and on his face, his cock pulses between his legs. He’s not as hard as he had been but his frills are still flaring. “Gonna try to choke me again, aren’t you?” Maddox grumbles, and after receiving nothing but a most dazzling smile in return, he inches forward on his ass. “Fine. Knock yourself out, kid.”
Io thinks it’s pretty funny that he’s trying to convince himself this is all for their benefit. But whatever, they’ll let him have that, because now he lets them tilt his chin up, and when Io pokes at his lips again he parts them.
This time around they actually almost make an effort to kiss Maddox. The taste of salt and spit seeps between them as Io parts their lips and shares his own cum with him. Io allows him a moment to get used to the taste of himself before their tongue pushes more into his mouth, and then they allow him about twenty seconds of fairly standard making out. But then they’re getting bored again, even with the added fun of cum-swapping.
Abruptly, Io pushes the rest of Maddox’s cum into his mouth and pulls away, and orders, “Open up.”
He narrows his eyes, suspicious, but still does it – and then jerks back as Io spits squarely into his mouth with a wet, definitive thwap. It’s remarkable, really, that Maddox doesn’t immediately spit it all out, though he does clamp his mouth shut and glower at them.
With a bright smile, Io puts their fingers to his lips. “Now you can swallow.”
Maddox gives them an expression that is clearly meant to be a fuck no.
“Swallow.”
He glares, but swallows very pointedly. “Happy now?” he asks gruffly, wiping his mouth with a sleeve and then grimacing at his softening cock, which is still glazed in cum.
“Let me help you with that,” Io says, eyes fixing on his dick, and they lean down far enough that their tongue can swipe up his leftover seed. Maddox groans softly as his frills flutter one last time against them. They swallow and run their tongue along the back of their teeth as their body floods with heated satisfaction, then raise their hand like they’re holding up a glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers?” The word comes out as half-laugh, half-cough. “Cheers, they say.” Maddox glances over at the door as he tucks his dick away; Io’s sad to see it go but his cock’s served its purpose in entertaining them. They can’t begrudge it its rest. “Honestly can’t believe we got away with this.”
“Told you we’d have time.” Io reaches out to Maddox to wipe a bit of cum from the corner of his mouth and lick it from their finger. He doesn’t give them a dirty look for it, just eyes them sort of warily, so that’s progress.
“I think…” Maddox stops, waits, then starts again. “I wouldn’t vote against a future venture with your crew.”
He’s really skirting around it, huh. “Yeah?” Io asks with a grin. “So you’re not regretting taking Stephen’s recommendation anymore?”
Maddox cracks a grin of his own, not nearly as grudging as any of his previous ones. “Not regretting it, no.” He rolls his shoulders back and shifts positions, leaning back against what little support the table leg provides. “You sure tire out an old man, though.”
“Well, here’s a deal for you,” Io says, their smile turning a little smug and a little sultry.
Maddox raises an eyebrow.
“Once we get out of here –” They jingle their handcuffs. “– I’ll tire you out real well.”