Chapter Text
Dottore was sure of it now… that rebellious segment had definitely put something in his tea this morning. Dottore didn’t know precisely what he had put in the tea yet, as apparently, the segment was throwing everything he had into blocking the mental connection between them, but Dottore had every intention of finding out as soon as his meeting with Pantalone that afternoon was over.
But whatever it was, it was having a rather aggravating effect.
Dottore sat at his desk, feeling more wound up than he ever had before. He had never been a particularly sexual creature, though he had Pantalone when he needed to indulge in his more natural desires. But now he was downright flushed, unfocused, and worst of all, blood was flowing to his groin despite the fact that he was receiving no stimulation. The uncomfortable tightness of his pants made it impossible for Dottore to even run diagnostics on himself right now. His only prayer had been to try to wait it out, but the longer he sat there, the more it seemed that would not be an option.
Dottore glanced at the grandfather clock that loomed across the room from him and scowled as he realized that he only had an hour before his meeting with Pantalone. He would have to take action now if he wanted to make it without being a horny, blathering mess in front of the Regator. Even though they had a somewhat intimate relationship, as the Omega segment, it was his job to maintain a certain level of composure and professionalism around the other Harbinger. The banker was shifty, and Dottore had no way of ensuring that the day would not come when Pantalone decided that he was better suited as the competition rather than an ally.
Dottore pushed himself away from the desk, resisting the urge to push his thighs together as he felt the fabric of his pants shift over his groin. For the first time ever, he found himself thankful for his bulky Harbinger coat. Normally it was just an encumbrance, but now it was a blessing. It was almost long enough to touch his shoes, and moreover, it was capable of being clasped all the way down, which would protect him from any prying eyes as he made his way to his room.
As Dottore shuffled towards his bedroom, which was unfortunately quite far from his office and lab, he suddenly became more aware of a strange sensation coming from his chest. He had felt it a bit earlier but hadn’t paid it much mind. But now as he walked he could really tell. His leather harness was pressing into his chest as it shifted with each step, and the muscle seemed a bit sore. The fabric of his shirt was also irritating his nipples, which had also responded to the aphrodisiac his segment had apparently tricked him into drinking by becoming hard and sensitive.
Dottore forced himself to maintain his fragile composure as he made his way through the halls of the Zapolyarny Palace. With both his body and the majority of his face covered, it was possible to hide his flushed skin and ill expressions if he maintained a steady pace and didn’t acknowledge the Fatui agents that saluted and bowed as he walked past. They probably wouldn’t suspect anything strange with that behavior, considering that it was quite normal for The Doctor to ignore his subordinates. However, if they were more observant, they would’ve noticed that today his head was bowed in humility rather than his chin being tipped up with an air of haughtiness… but no one did notice, or at least, no one dared to mention it.
By the time Dottore managed to reach his room, he was ready to bounce off the walls or stick his hand down his pants, regardless of who was watching. He bit his tongue as he attempted to stop his hands from shaking as he pulled out his ornate keys and tried to slip them into the lock. It took far too long to complete even this simple task. After a few moments, the door finally swung open.
Dottore rushed inside and quickly shut it behind him before he desperately shrugged off his heavy coat, letting it fall haphazardly onto the floor.
Now he could finally do something about this blasted drug—although he wasn't happy about it. Omega prided himself in his own self-control, a control that the Prime Dottore had curated over years. And now… Well, he was about to jerk himself off like a hormone-crazed schoolboy.
Dottore could barely contain a whimper as he palmed the bulge in his pants. The sensation sent a shiver up his spine. It was clear to him that the aphrodisiac had heightened his entire body’s responsiveness—so much so that he was almost worried to touch himself directly. But he knew he needed to do so if he wanted to clean up in time to make his appointment.
Dottore sat down on the edge of his bed, his breathing a bit shallow as he gingerly reached down to unclasp his pants. As soon as he pushed the fabric away, his dick sprang up, harder than he’d ever seen it before. He had been so aroused that the entire head and shaft were practically soaked with pre-come. The reasonable part of his brain rolled its eyes at the sight. How embarrassing.
Dottore slipped off his gloves before reaching down and taking his dick into one hand. His legs jerked as his skin made contact, but he gritted his teeth and allowed himself to get to work, doing his best to remain composed as he stroked the length. The pleasure would be maddening to a lesser man. However, as he continued, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. Something whispered in his ear and told him he wanted to reach up and touch his chest. So naturally, he did.
Dottore allowed his left hand to wander up, slipping underneath his shirt, tracing the lines of his harness until it reached its fleshy prize. A finger swirled around his excited nipple, eliciting a small sound from his throat. But the moment of bliss was short-lived as he realized the nature of the sensations in his chest.
With a bit of disbelief, Dottore used both his hands to quickly unbutton his undershirt as quickly as he could. As soon as it was off, his suspicions were confirmed.
His entire chest was… fuller somehow. It was almost as if his pectorals had swollen up in a way that resembled the breast of a woman, minus the usual feminine shape. They were so engorged that the straps of his harness were practically digging into his skin. His nipples were also undoubtedly a tad larger than they had been when he woke up this morning.
Dottore reached up and gave them a tentative squeeze, shocked by the way the supple flesh gave way under his grip. His chest protested, the soreness becoming more apparent as he squished them. Whatever had been slipped into his tea, it was not just a simple aphrodisiac as Dottore had previously thought.
Anger boiled within him, temporarily banishing any thoughts of lust. He allowed his consciousness to project his rage and murderous intent into the neural network between him and the other segments. If that bastard that did this to him wasn’t afraid before, he had every reason to be scared witless now.
This was clearly an attempt to embarrass him in front of Pantalone—the other segments were often jealous of his relationship with the Regator, and perhaps this was their way of acting out. In fact, as Dottore thought about it, the segment was likely planning on him drinking his tea when it was cold, as he usually forgot about it for several hours when he was working. If he had done so, then the onset of the potion would’ve occurred while he was in his meeting with Pantalone, which certainly would’ve made things uncomfortable. Luckily for him, Dottore had decided not to start a project this morning, lest he dirty himself before his meeting, which meant he’d had time to drink the tea when it was still hot. Which also meant he had time to cancel his meeting.
Dottore neglected his body as he picked up his communication device, a device he’d personally adapted from the Akasha terminal to communicate with the other Harbingers as long as they were in the proximity of the Zapolyarny Palace. He created a message to Pantalone, explaining that he was feeling unwell and would not be able to attend their meeting today. He kept the message brief and cordial in an attempt to mask his own embarrassment. This whole situation was a mess. He hated canceling plans, but for a circumstance like this, he would allow some flaky behavior.
Satisfied with his explanation, Dottore decided to focus on remedying his condition. He wasn’t sure if the effects of the potion would be permanent or not, but he at least hoped that he’d be able to relieve some of the pressure in his chest and groin. He removed the rest of his clothing (besides his harness which was too difficult to remove with his shaky hands) and sprawled himself onto the bed, his legs spread and back arched slightly as he reached one hand back to his dick and the other to his chest. He gently swirled his fingers around his taut chest, teasing his own nipples while he stoked his cock at the same time. The sensations were incredible, but he grew increasingly frustrated as he felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere. The longer he lay there, the more sore his chest felt, and the less satisfying his hands were. He whined. If he couldn’t get himself off soon, he was going to have to pull out some toys as a last measure.
But unfortunately (luckily?) for The Doctor, that would prove unnecessary.
A loud knock rang out through the thick door of his bedroom. “Dottore? Are you in there?”
Dottore practically jumped out of his skin with shock at the sound. What was Pantalone doing here? Why would he come when Dottore said he was ill?!
“Ah, yes, Regator… I am here. Please do not come in, I’m afraid you’ll get sick,” Dottore called back, cursing himself over how weak his voice sounded.
“I can’t hear you well,” Pantalone said through the door, the handle suddenly turning slowly. Dottore’s heart almost dropped into his stomach. “I’m coming in so we can talk easier.”
“Pantalone—” Dottore started, but it was too late. All The Doctor had time to do was haphazardly throw his sheets over himself, pulling them up to his chin as the other Harbinger came into his room.
“I’m sorry for intruding, but I was worried about you… I’ve never heard of you being sick before. I was under the impression that your Omega Build is immune to all—” Pantalone began, his face full of concern for a moment before he trailed off, his eyes now sweeping over the state of Dottore and his bedroom. No doubt his mind picked up on the peculiarity of the clothes strewn around the floor, the awkward position of Dottore, and the redness on his face. “... What is going on here?”
“I told you, I’m afraid I’m ill. It’s a terrifying illness, one I’ve never encountered before. Not even my enhanced immune system can cope with it yet, so it would definitely harm you if you were to contract it.” Dottore blathered, covering his flushed face.
Pantalone ignored his excuse, instead turning almost steely. “Are you hard right now?”
Dottore glanced down at his lap, where he’d been attempting to bend his knees so his erection wasn’t visible through the thin sheets. Sure enough, he’d let his thighs bow too far, and there was now an obvious tent in the fabric. Dottore blanched.
Pantalone adjusted his glasses before a strange smile appeared on his face—the kind of smile that didn’t indicate joy, but rather quiet anger. “Doctor… please don’t tell me you canceled our meeting because you were feeling, ah… ‘pent up’. Time is money, you know.”
Dottore scowled. “Of course not—you know me better than that, Regator.”
Pantalone hummed and gently sat on the edge of the bed, his body heat agonizing to Dottore’s drug-addled brain. “Then please, explain what is going on here. I would be more than happy to be enlightened.”
Dottore cleared his throat, pulling his sheets closer to him as he suddenly felt even more self-conscious than before. “I was unknowingly drugged this morning by one of my junior segments. I’m afraid it’s some sort of aphrodisiac, but at this point I’m unsure. Those little brats will certainly pay for wasting both of our time.”
“Ah, it was actually one of your juniors that encouraged me to come to see you. He insisted that you were very ill and wouldn’t take care of yourself. I suppose that was a part of the plan.” Pantalone theorized. “They are quite cantankerous.”
“Tch! You could say that.” Dottore grumbled, barely noticing as his legs subconsciously moved together, his thighs pressing against his erection. Despite the madness and humiliation of the situation, his body still cried out for touch.
“Perhaps you’d like some assistance finding a cure?” Pantalone purred, one gloved finger curling around the edge of the sheet, like a predator stalking prey.
Dottore weighed his options for a moment, the reasonable part of his brain telling him he’d never live this down if he followed through with it, and the other part of his brain telling him he wanted to get plowed into the mattress. If he needed to, perhaps he could even find a way to manipulate Pantalone’s memory after the fact… or he could use this as blackmail in equal measure…
“Dottore, dear, you’re thinking so hard I can smell the smoke.”
“Fine, fine… you can ‘help’ me. But if you start acting self-important, I’ll—”
Pantalone ripped the sheet off, exposing Dottore’s sensitive skin to the chilly air all at once. Dottore flinched a bit, his arms flying to his chest as Pantalone’s eyes trailed over his body.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… what is this, my dear?” Pantalone cooed as he roughly gripped one of Dottore’s pectorals. The soft flesh conformed to the shape of his hand, and Dottore bit back a sound as the soreness flared. “Was this your doing, or was this the work of the aphrodisiac? Maybe this is a present from your juniors. Unlike a certain someone, they actually appreciate all the things I do for you.”
“Be careful!” Dottore snapped, pulling Pantalone’s hand off as he ignored Pantalone’s comment.
“Are they really so sensitive?” Pantalone asked mischievously. “What about this?”
Dottore put a wrist over his face as he felt Pantalone’s soft fingers wrap around the wet length of his dick. When had he taken off his glove?!
“You really should commend the other segments for creating such a powerful drug, Omega. You are so hard on them, but their genius shines through sometimes.” Pantalone sighed, his expression wistful and absent as if he didn’t have one of the strongest beings in the Fatui shaking with pleasure under his fingertips.
“Hmph… why do you always try to make me feel jealous?” Dottore gritted out between small tremors. “It simply will not work.”
“Oh? What if I were to call one in right now? He could join us. As they say, ‘the more the merrier.’” Pantalone said. Dottore felt his face heat up with anger. He couldn’t believe this man. Pantalone laughed. “See? You are jealous.”
“Forget it. Can’t you just focus? I was drugged, Pantalone. This is hardly time to dawdle and praise those imbeciles.”
“Fine, no more teasing or arguing. You know the truth about how I feel anyways.” Pantalone replied, his voice sincere now. Dottore relaxed slightly. Pantalone was right; Dottore knew that he enjoyed his company and their relationship, no matter how much teasing Pantalone did. He also knew that Pantalone was well aware that he and his segments were not interchangeable or equal, nor did they appreciate being compared to one another.
“So, how can I help you? How would you like me to touch you?” Pantalone asked Dottore, his hand moving away from Dottore’s dick as he spoke. Dottore whined a bit at the loss, but he made himself focus on the question.
It took him a moment to answer, as he was taken by a bit of surprise. Rarely did people ask what he wanted . They told him what they wanted (a new weapon, the destabilization of a nation, revenge…), and promised him a reward in turn, but rarely did they particularly care that he desired something. Not even Pantalone was usually this forthcoming.
“My chest…” Dottore answered, a bit surprised by his own choice. His chest was sore, and the touches aggravated it, but there was something inside him telling him that he wanted his tits manhandled, even if that wasn’t something he used to care about at all. Perhaps this too was a result of the drug he’d been given.
Pantalone obliged, moving onto the bed fully, his legs spread open and folded underneath him. Dottore understood what this position meant, and shifted so that his back was facing Pantalone, his body slotted between the man’s legs. He shivered when he felt Pantalone grind his still-clothed groin into the dip of his ass. Pantalone also reached his hands around Dottore’s sides, slowly trailing his fingers up his abdomen until they were tracing circles around Dottore’s perked-up nipples.
Dottore gave a grunt as Pantalone tugged on them, roughly pinching and rolling them between his fingers. The sensation was painful but heavenly all the same. It was almost like the other Harbinger was tugging at a blockage, some unknown force that was causing his tits to ache.
“Keep going…” Dottore asserted.
Pantalone hummed, smugly leaning forward and resting his chin on Dottore’s shoulder as he added a full-handed grope of The Doctor’s chest into his routine. “These really are like tits now. How peculiar. The only thing they are missing is just a dash of milk.” Pantalone whispered directly into Dottore’s ear.
Milk? Dottore was about to complain about the absurdity of that comment before a strange sensation took his attention away. Dottore looked down at his chest, and almost popped a blood vessel at the sight. As if on cue, a small bead of white liquid suddenly leaked from his nipples, wetting Pantalone’s fingers.
“Oh my,” Pantalone breathed as he looked at his own hand from over Dottore’s shoulder. Despite them both having normally quick-witted and sarcastic natures, neither of them had anything smart to say about this.
Dottore really had milk coming out of his own chest.
Dottore could hear Pantalone’s breaths in his ear speed up with excitement as the revelation hit him. He didn’t even have time to remind Pantalone to be gentle before the man was suddenly squeezing his chest with a vicelike grip, kneading the pliant flesh to get more of the warm milk out.
“Slow down,” Dottore whimpered as his tits began to leak copious amounts of milk onto Pantalone’s hands and his own lap and sheets. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding backward though, rubbing the cleft of his ass against Pantalone’s clothed dick, which was very much hard now.
Pantalone pretty much ignored him, instead opting to scoop up some of the escaping milk into the palm of his hand before bringing it to his mouth.
Dottore blanched. He couldn’t be serious.
Yet, Pantalone very much was serious. He eagerly licked up the liquid, making a lewd sound as he tasted it. Dottore could die right then and there.
“It’s delicious. It has a sort of sweet and floral flavor, a bit like chamomile tea.” Pantalone told him before licking off his fingers, cleaning up every trace of the white milk.
“Do not tell me that, Regator. That’s disgusting, even by my standards,” Dottore griped.
“If it’s so disgusting, why are you so hard still? Grinding into me like a pathetic animal.” Pantalone said, reminding Dottore of his imminent situation. As if to emphasize his point, he lurched his hips forward, bumping into Dottore’s ass hard enough to nearly push him over. Dottore couldn’t stop himself from making an aroused sound. Now that the pressure in his chest was starting to fade, Dottore was starting to realize how much he wanted to get fucked. He would scold Pantalone for being out of line later… for now, getting dicked down and milked was all he really had room in his mind to care about.
Dottore shifted, getting onto all fours on the bed. He spread his legs as far as he could, wide enough that Pantalone could see the tight ring of his hole and his leaking chest between them. “If I remind you so much of an animal, then fuck me like one already.”
Pantalone laughed and unclasped his belt, freeing his own dick from his pants. It was slick with pre-come, and so hard that it pulsed heavily in time with his heartbeat. Pantalone rose off of his heels and pressed against Dottore’s naked body. His dick slid against the underside of Dottore’s, which resulted in a heavy bead of pre-come pouring out of the tip as Dottore shuddered at the sensation. With this drug, Pantalone’s dick felt like an iron brand against his.
Pantalone’s entire body was a bit smaller and slimmer than Dottore’s, usually taking on an aura of delicacy, like a porcelain doll… but The Doctor knew that he was really an imposing threat when he wanted to be. And right now, The Regator was thinking about absolutely destroying him. Yet there was an undertone of concern, as if he perhaps understood the gravity of Dottore’s discomfort despite all his teasing.
A slender hand wrapped around both of their lengths, rubbing the two dicks together roughly, using the copious amounts of pre-come dripping from the tips as lube. Pantalone’s other hand reach forward and groped one of Dottore’s tits, causing more milk to drip onto the covers. This was going to be a mess.
“You are gorgeous like this, dear,” Pantalone told Dottore as he moved his dick away and started to rub it against his entrance. The milk-covered hand retracted, and Dottore peaked back just in time to see Pantalone rubbing it all over his dick. Dottore wrinkled his nose in disgust, but he didn’t say anything. At this point, he’d be silent as a lamb if it meant Pantalone would just stick it in already.
Dottore had never been one for major prep, so he wasn’t surprised when Pantalone did stick it in without using fingers first. The length pressed into him slowly, not particularly large, but still filling up Dottore just fine. Dottore let out a long sigh of satisfaction as the heat of it seared his insides one inch at a time. As soon as he bottomed out, he gave Dottore a couple of moments to adjust. The two often switched roles, and although Dottore didn’t particularly care about his own comfort and safety, Pantalone had the weird habit of refusing to ignore most rules, as if he were afraid Dottore couldn’t actually take it based on his own preferences. Pah. Dottore wiggled his hips slightly, encouraging Pantalone to move.
Pantalone obliged. Dottore felt like his brain was melting as Pantalone started to fuck him. The sensation of the heavy weight dragging along his walls was amplified ten times by the aphrodisiac, and anytime the dick inside him hit his prostate, he saw stars. Pantalone seemed to be enjoying himself too, murmuring praises as he rubbed gentle circles into the bit of fat on Dottore’s hips (which Pantalone always seemed to be quite a fan of).
Pantalone’s pace felt a bit rougher than usual, his thrusts violent enough to make Dottore’s butt sting each time his hips collided with it. The force of the thrusts also caused Dottore’s chest to sway slightly below him, more milk dribbling out in small quantities. The feeling wasn’t like anything else he’d ever experienced, and he couldn’t exactly say he hated it.
“I’m getting close, dear…” Pantalone breathed out, his strokes starting to become more deep and heavy rather than short and fast. Dottore grunted in response, not feeling up to the task of formulating words.
It only took a few more moments before he felt Pantalone still inside him, his dick painting his insides white as he came. Dottore felt oddly soothed by the feeling of his sticky seed oozing out of his wrecked hole, but he hadn’t come yet. His neglected chest had become sore again, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to find relief until his tits were empty.
Dottore collapsed onto the bed as Pantalone pulled out of him, whimpering lightly as his sensitive dick and nipples were mashed against the covers.
“You didn’t finish,” Pantalone noted, a bit out of breath.
Dottore shook his head honestly. “These stupid things are driving me crazy,” he said, pointing at his engorged pectorals.
Pantalone helped him turn over so his chest was facing the ceiling now. Dottore’s eyes widened when Pantalone fulling straddled his body and let his body press into the Second’s pillowy chest for a moment as he laid down on top of him. “They do feel rather full,” he replied. “Does it hurt? I guess they need to be emptied out, like a cows’.”
Dottore’s face went red and he practically strangled Pantalone right there. How dare he compare him to a disgusting farm animal? But he knew better than to argue with the only one who could help him find some relief. Instead of snapping back, Dottore simply huffed and turned his face to the side.
Pantalone ignored his tantrum, instead opting to swipe his tongue over one of Dottore’s nipples, licking up all of the excess milk. He gave it a teasing flick, and Dottore couldn’t help when his hips bucked against Pantalone’s.
But Pantalone didn’t intend to just keep licking it. Instead, he gently wrapped his lips around the bud and began to suck. Liquid flowed out freely, disappearing down Pantalone’s eager mouth as he drank. The feeling was incredible, like a massive strain being taken off his shoulders, and although it was a little gross in Dottore’s opinion… he supposed it was worth it.
The whole time Pantalone drank, he also gently rolled his hips, providing Dottore with the important stimulation he’d been craving. But Pantalone wasn’t doing all the work, as Dottore’s hips were still involuntarily raising to meet his partners’.
After several minutes, Pantalone finally moved to the other side, now drinking from the other tit. The sensation of the constant grinding and the milk being drawn from his breasts was starting to build up, and Dottore knew he was going to finally come soon.
“Gods…” Dottore breathed out. He reached both hands around Pantalone’s still-clothed back and gripped the silky fabric as if his life depended on it.
Sensing Dottore’s imminent release, Pantalone began to flick his tongue over the nipple in his mouth intermittently, sending shocks up Dottore’s spine each time. He seemed to be trying to pace it so that he’d be finished emptying the milk as Dottore came, perhaps so he wouldn’t become overstimulated. The banker was ever considerate, even as much as he liked to act sly and uncaring.
Perhaps that’s what sent him over the edge. Not the stimulation, but the idea that the man was bending over backward to please him just right. Whatever the cause was, Dottore felt his entire body seize and shake as he came. His dick pulsed wildly, staining the front of Pantalone’s pants and shirt white as he came harder and further than he ever remembered doing so in the past.
Dottore lay limp as he caught his breath. Pantalone had stopped suckling and now seemed to be leaning in for a kiss. Unable to protest or push Pantalone away, his lips were parted by Pantalone’s prying tongue, and he felt the sensation of warm milk running into his mouth and dribbling out of the corners of his lips. Dottore was forced to simply swallow it so he wouldn’t choke. The kiss continued for a moment longer, even as the milk was completely swallowed, with Pantalone’s tongue swiping over Dottore’s sharp teeth almost teasingly, like he was daring him to bite down if he really hated this.
“See? That wasn’t so bad. You wouldn’t be a real scientist if you didn’t discover what the magically-induced milk of a Fatui Harbinger tasted like. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” Pantalone smirked as he removed his mouth from Dottore’s.
“How do you know if it’s a one-time occurrence? You seem to forget that this situation is quite dire. What if I become a leaky facet forever?” Dottore grumbled, his annoyance at his other segments returning as the drugged haze in his brain faded slightly.
“Then I would simply have to visit your office more often, to milk you of course,” Pantalone said, gently bopping Dottore’s nose with one finger. “Anyways, you aren’t the only one who is suffering. Look how you ruined my favorite suit!” he gestured towards the sticky white stains on his crouch and chest.
“You can take that to the dry cleaners, you know. I do it all the time with my lab clothes. If viscera can come out of white, I’m sure a bit of semen can come off of that,” Dottore reminded him, his sympathy for Pantalone almost nonexistent. It wasn’t as if it were his fault the man hadn’t taken them off first.
“Never mind that now,” Pantalone said with a dismissive hand wave, “how are you feeling?”
Dottore considered the question for a moment before he realized his dick was still half hard even after cumming once. Those bastards—how long was this aphrodisiac going to last?!
“It seems my body would like to get fucked again now, and kill someone later,” Dottore answered.
Pantalone grinned mischievously. “I think I like that plan, dear.”
…