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"I... I'm not sure about this..."

Fingers wiggled, uncertain.

"A-are you sure this is okay?"

In spite of his discomfort and uncertainty, Atlas's gaze couldn't help but dip downward and take in the sight Castor was presenting to him. He was hesitant, however, and recoiled from the hail senshi's touch.

"I don't know, Castor, it -- it's just so big..." He chewed at his lip a bit. "That's just... it's just too much meat for one person!"

Atlas tensed up more against the push, trying to stay firmly where he was. "No. No, I really think I don't, Castor," he said, features pulled back in a wince. "There's no way that thing could ever fit in my mouth."

And then the overly friendly shoulder grip became forceful, unfriendly manhandling. With the elder senshi possessing more power than he did, there wasn't a good chance of Atlas being able to fight back.

"No, Castor -- stop, please --"

But it was also no use begging, it seemed -- in typical Castor style, he either wasn't listening or just plain didn't care. Atlas squinted his eyes shut and he tried to turn his face away, but that didn't stop him from feeling it brush hotly against its cheek.

No. No.

There was a slick of meaty juice on one side of his face, enough that it dripped down off his chin. He felt sick.

The senshi of gravity continued to struggle, his face twisting left and right with a displeased expression not quite unlike a baby refusing to be fed. "Castor, stop," he whined, and tried to pry his hand off his shoulder. "I don't want it. Not like this, it's just wrong!"

Atlas's face was covered in the stuff now, making his tan features shine in the orange firelight. Several missed shoves and one cry of protest later, Castor finally met his mark -- and the wailing was reduced to a muffled, sickened whine, followed by a defeated groan as Atlas gave in and went slack.

Swallow? Castor wanted him to SWALLOW it?

Upon those words Atlas panicked, his brow furrowed and he looked pleadingly up at the fellow senshi, but to no avail. Where there should have been sympathy there was more persistence, and he ended up nauseatingly gagging the whole thing down. Castor was wrong, he definitely did not like it. It was just too much.

"Please don't make me do that again," he said, in a tone that suggested he was still trying to suppress his gag reflex. "And please say you brought napkins with you."