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Being stuck on the Plasma Frigate was starting to get frustrating for Ghetsis. He was certainly feeling some form of cabin fever, and it was making him much more irate than usual, which is certainly saying something. Colress and the Shadow Triad were out doing very important things to help the new and improved Team Neo-Plasma achieve their goals, and Zinzolin... Well, Ghetsis really didn't care about where he was right now. He was far too distracted to think about it.
As he stalked the halls of the Frigate, Ghetsis passed a small group of three grunts huddled together. They glanced at him and whispered to each other, before quickly stopping as he passed. Ghetsis continued walking, and for a moment he considered ignoring what the grunts were doing. But, he knew what they where whispering about. Ghetsis turned on his heels and scowled at the grunts, who all froze up in fright.
"You three, what do you think you're doing?!" Ghetsis stormed over them, his fingers twitching for a moment. He felt an urge to smack the grunts, but he refained.
"L... Lord Ghetsis..." One of the grunts stammered, trying desperately to excuse their insolence as Ghetsis loomed over them. Ghetsis enjoyed his height, as it meant people felt more fear looking at him than they would if he was average height.
Ghetsis' scowl deepens and he takes a step forward, causing the three grunts to stumble back. The trio was trembling and it pleased Ghetsis. He jabbed a finger at them as he spoke again. "Quit loitering and get back to work! If I catch you dragging this organization down again..." Ghetsis allowed his sentence to trail off, leaving the threat unsaid.
The grunts saluted, "Y-YES LORD GHETSIS!!!" And they quickly turned and fled.
Ghetsis was satisfied by their compliance, but as he continued to stalk the halls of the Frigate, he soon found himself feeling aggravated once more. He knew what those grunts had been whispering about.
For some reason, completely unknown to Ghetsis, the grunts had started a rumour regarding how he was in the bedroom. They had begun speculating that he was apparently a man extremely skilled in the world of sexual kinks. Ghetsis did not understand it, maybe he is getting older. A part of him knew that he, as Team Neo-Plasma's leader, should shut this rumour down, give every grunt a severe punishment, and hold a five hour 'assembly' where all he does is scream at and scold the grunts.
But... He can't.
Ghetsis cannot bring himself to address this rumour. He tried to simply think about confronting the grunts once, and his face flushed so red that Zinzolin demanded to check his temperature to make sure he doesn't have a fever. The only thing more humiliating than how susceptible he is to blushing of all things, is how utterly timid he gets when it comes to anything sexual, even simple self pleasure. The grunts rumour could not be more wrong, and even though one may see the humour in that, Ghetsis cannot.
So, Ghetsis has decided to simply ignore the rumour. Maybe if he ignores it, it will end, and everyone will stop discussing his sexual acts.
Speaking of sexual acts...
After over an hour of patrolling the Frigate's long and cold corridors, snapping at any grunt he sees, Ghetsis has found himself back in his bedroom. It's one of the largest rooms on the Frigate, but it's still not as nice as he would like. He knows that some luxuries aren't available while living full time on an airship, but Ghetsis is still a small bit annoyed by it; a lot of things seem to annoy him. At least he has a double bed in the middle of the room, the only wall it's touching being from the back of the headboard against the room's back wall.
Ghetsis is sat on the edge of is bed, feet touching the floor as he stares straight ahead at the door. Ghetsis has removed his outer robe, left in only the plain pants and shirt he wears underneath. He's as still as ever, practically burning a hole in the door on the other end of the room. Ghetsis is ninety-nine percent sure he locked it.
The last time he indulged himself was a year ago. In a cave hiding from Interpol. And he didn't even finish.
He is so incredibly pent up. He's gone long periods of time without touching himself before, but never this long. He's just been so busy, so stressed trying to fix all of his previous mistakes, and so paranoid about being betrayed after Team Plasma's split. Ghetsis has had no time to properly relax, even if he wanted to.
The crotch of his pants are beginning to feel tight, and he clenches his fists.
Usually Ghetsis would've triple checked that his door is locked by now, but he just can't take it anymore.
It'll be fine.
With a slight tremor, Ghetsis slowly moves one of his hands towards his crotch. It stops short on his thigh and he just sits there for a few seconds. Ghetsis' breathing has become heavier, shakier. No matter how many times he does this, the build-up to it is always the scariest part.
Ghetsis squeezes his thigh and gasps softly. He feels like he's close already.
He hates himself for it, but Ghetsis can only sit there for what feels like hours. Ghetsis groans in frustration, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He can't even look down at his crotch without risking losing his will and stopping like the pathetic coward he must be, if he can't even masturbate without feeling SHY!!!
After taking a deep breath, Ghetsis wills his hand to move again and he finally, finally, starts to palm his crotch through his pants.
Ghetsis refuses to fully take his cock out, he refuses to risk it.
He gasps louder than he meant to, but now he's too distracted to care. Ghetsis whines pathetically and lies back, staring up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes as he begins to slowly but surely rub and palm the tent in his pants.
He squirms and bucks his hips, panting heavily as he begins to rub faster and faster.
Ghetsis isn't very good at this, from the little he knows about how others go about this, his technique is all wrong. He doesn't care thought. Ghetsis couldn't care less. All that matters now is that he finally creams his pants after so long.
He's moving faster now, his other hand gripping the bedsheets, muscles clenching and unclenching as he drives the heel of his hand into his crotch; it feels amazing, but it also slightly hurts, but Ghetsis doesn't care as it actually feels good. At this point, he no longer cares about volume control, as he whines and gasps. Ghetsis even whimpers, something he'd never admit to doing, but he doesn't stop.
Ghetsis is so close.
He's almost there.
He's trembling, sweating, face bright red.
It's been so long since he's had this release and it's going to feel so good-
"Lord Ghetsis..?"
Ghetsis freezes. A part of his brain cries at the loss of touch, wanting him to keep going, but he can't.
He has been caught. He forgot to lock the door.
Slowly, Ghetsis sits up and finds himself staring at none other than Zinzolin, who is standing in the doorway, looking shocked. Ghetsis removes his hand from his crotch and just. Stares. Right back at the Sage.
"I..." For once, words fail Ghetsis.
Zinzolin hesitates for a moment before he speaks.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Lord Ghetsis!" Before Ghetsis can do anything, the other man shuts the door as quickly as he came and hurries off.
All Ghetsis can do is sit there. He knows that Zinzolin will not breathe a word of this to anyone, but he still feels utterly destroyed. It takes quite some time to get his bearings, but when he does, Ghetsis simply gets up, and starts quietly cleaning up.
Ghetsis does not to get orgasm, he can hardly look himself in the mirror, and there is absolutely no way he is going to try to masturbate again for a long time.