#gagging tw

Your jaw aches. It’s worth it though, to hear Boba’s deep honeyed groan. At the faint sound of metal clanging on stone, you glance upwards and are met with the sight of his neck pulled taught, the slight bulge of his adam’s apple barely visible with his helmet on. 

It sends a rush of heat through your body, and you wriggle unintentionally to provide some friction. It does absolutely nothing but reminds you of how soaked you are and the way your underwear clings uncomfortably to your pussy. 

You inhale deeply and the musk of him makes your mouth water, and makes your brain feel slightly fuzzy. Though, perhaps that’s the lack of oxygen.

The saliva pools uncomfortably in your mouth, coating the underside of his dick. The heaviness in your mouth, and your body instinctively tries to swallow. 

It’s a jarring surprise to the both of you, your throat spasming the way it did. The constrictions resulting in the instinctive thrusting of his hips into the wet cavern of your mouth. The tip of him hitting the back of your throat causing a sudden stop of air flow, your hands flying up to the tops of his thighs to press on them. 

You sputter and cough on empty air, spit leaking from the edges of your mouth. Undeterred, you reach for his cock once again to continue blowing him, whining when he rests his hand on the hollow of your collarbone to keep you from placing the comfortable weight of him back into your mouth. 

“No, little one.” His words are serious enough to halt your whining, gaining your attention. You peer up at him and are surprised when you meet his brown eyes rather than the imposing green helmet.

Your head is still slightly fuzzy, your gaze darts back to his cock, then back to his, impatient to begin again. 

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, and begin to speak anticipating his request for you to, if you had not spoken. “Yes. I’m fine, Boba.” Your voice is slightly raspy.

“Are you sure? We can stop.” 

You were growing impatient. You glower at him, and begin once again. “Boba, I promise you I’m fine. Lemme suck your cock!”

His worried expression softens slightly, his thumb moving to glaze across your lips, and darken when your suck his thumb into your mouth with a small pop.

“You let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?” 

His concern has you melting. His soft gaze on you makes your chest puff up, and you can’t help your preening, smiling and nodding around his thumb. You release his thumb, and lean up to place a small kiss at the curve of his hip. 

"Calm down now," Joy cooed soothingly, stroking over Peter's hair with gentle fingers. "If you're all worked up like this, I won't get a good reading and we'll have to start over." The honeyed drawl of her accent reminded him of long-ago summers spent sitting in the shade of peach trees. It made him feel calm. Why had he been struggling?

The harsh tearing sound of velcro brought Peter back to the present with a flinch.

"Really now," Joy scolded in a soft tone, "this is just a routine check. All you have to do is hold still a minute for me." She raised something up where he could see it. A band of dark fabric with a plastic bulb dangling off of it by a length of tubing. One of those blood pressure things. Perfectly normal. Nothing to be worried about. Why was he worried? 

Peter's mouth went suddenly dry as Joy lifted his head gently to slide the fabric underneath it. He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth to whisper, "Wait, isn't that supposed to go–"

Joy's hand lashed out in a slap that left Peter's cheek burning.

"One of us is a medical professional, sweetie, and it ain't you. Now don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" 

"Hush now. Last warning."

"Get away from me, you crazy b- ah!"

Joy was quick with her hands. Before Peter could finish his protest, she had one squeezing his cheeks with bruising force, keeping his mouth open while the other pressed something large and soft down over his tongue. He gagged and tried to spit it out, but Joy clamped her hand firmly over his mouth.

"Didn't your momma ever teach you that if you can't say anything nice, you shouldn't say anything at all? Now be good for me and hold still. I don't want to have to do this twice."

"Mm-mph!"

Peter struggled, shaking his head back and forth. Joy's grip was immovable as she tightened the band around his throat with her free hand until it was snug. He reached up to grab at her, to peel her hands off of him.

There was a jolt as Peter's panicked flailing connected with her arms, then fire seared through both of his hands. Hardly any trace of his agonized scream made it out past the gag as she calmly held it in place.

"That was a bad idea, hon. Did you forget about your poor busted hands? You've still got weeks before those casts can come off."

Peter writhed, legs twisting in the sheets. It felt like someone had pumped his hands full of molten lead, throbbing hot and painful all the way up his forearms. A garbled sob squeezed past his throat and faded behind his teeth, absorbed by the wadded gauze. It sucked all the moisture out of his mouth as he arched against the bed. 

"There now," Joy said, smoothing her hand over the band around his neck with a cheerful little pat. "That's right, take it easy. This will only take a minute."

Peter made an inaudible groan. He was already lightheaded, pain and panic making his breaths come hard and fast through his nose. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

The band began to tighten around Peter's neck, pressing in just a little more each time Joy pumped the little bulb in her hand. He stared up at her, eyes wide, pleas muffled by the makeshift gag but desperately begging with his eyes.

She didn't seem to notice, her own eyes fixed on her wristwatch.

Peter strained harder with each breath as the fabric restricted his airway a little more with every pump. A weight of cold terror pressed down on his chest along with it. Darkness started to come up from the edges of his vision, settling as heaviness in his limbs. He could feel his struggles getting weaker by the second.

Joy finally looked up into his eyes. She shot him a grin and a wink as she gave the bulb another couple of quick squeezes.

The next breath didn't come.

Peter's chest heaved, fighting for air that couldn't make it to his lungs. His arms jerked weakly at his sides. An eternity passed as the world dissolved around him, going dark like a fog rolling in. The last thing he felt before he faded was the heat of tears sliding down the sides of his face.

---

The sound of velcro yanked Peter back into consciousness. He tried to gulp a deep breath and gagged on the wet gauze in his mouth. Joy's hand was no longer holding it in place. Before he could spit it out she was there again, pressing a strip of tape over his lips.