He was sinking, dragged deeper down into the black abyss.
The fingers tipped with red claws pulled to where he could no longer see.
The inky fluid blinded him and when he opened his mouth to scream
To rage against the pull
All he could taste was copper
Iron
Blood.
“What… do I want…?” Tristan whimpered, the cold air cooling the sweat on his flesh. His eyes twitched as ice was filling his body, replacing the hot humid heat he was craving.
“I don’t like repeating myself.” Her robotic hand stroked along his jaw before gripping his chin. Metal fingers clawed into his chin and those sparks that he hated, that he missed, flickered before his eyes. Ira leaned closer, her scalding breath returning against his ear, “You want me to stop, right?”
He tried to tear his arms away from those monstrous hands.
Fingers reaching towards the light he could no longer see.
Yet each time his limb tasted freedom, it was trapped again.
Those red claws dug into flesh, indenting tiny holes all over his arms.
His legs.
His neck.
He tried to stop screaming, to stop opening his mouth.
Just so he could stop tasting black blood that was drowning him.
He clenched his teeth when her hand moved away, jerking forward, “I-I want… you to-to…” He closed his eyes, his throat dry before he let out an answer, “To let me out!”
He saw that flare across her crimsons. The glimmer of hell flashing out at him.
He needed her to get angry.
Ached for her to go back to her normal.
To beat him into submission.
The drug had been fucking with his body, making him crave agony as much as he would want to feel warm, wet lips wrapping around his swollen and neglected length; a hot tongue lapping around his shaft.
He hated what she turned him into.
He hated those soft touches she gave him, the adoring lies that she stuffed into his head. He did not believe a single word of it.
GET ANGRY!
“I want you to let-let me out!” He tugged hard on his chains, fighting against the current pushing him back into this blissful hell.
The gravity of the abyss was crushing him.
Forcing him downwards and deeper into the void.
The hands ripped his clothes.
Stripping him of his only protection.
Leaving him naked to assault.
One hand forced his mouth open, nearly ripping off his bottom jaw.
It was forcing him to drink the ebony blood
Filling his stomach.
His lungs.
Making his veins burn.
“You know the rules for that. Fight and beat me for your freedom.” Ira wrapped her metal fingers against his collarbone, digging in, “We both know you’re not ready for that. Besides, is that what you want right now?”
He hissed, gasping as her human fingers tapped on the very tip of his inflamed shaft, all while her metal hand threatened to break his clavicle. The mixture of heaven and hell almost sent him reeling, but she stopped touching his drooling tip, and her robotic grasp loosened, leaving only busted capillaries just under his skin, “N-no-”
His eyes widened as that one syllable slipped from his lips.
Her smile widened.
How many miles was he dragged under the surface?
Away from the cold but familiar emptiness.
In this unforgiving unknown?
The black fingers had torn into his muscle.
Hooked around his bones.
There was no escape, even as he was screaming.
Screaming because he couldn’t close his mouth.
“You don’t want me to stop?”
He gulped, panting, “I want you to let me out-”
“No.”
He gritted his teeth, “You fucking pitiful little petty bitch!” He lunged closer as she stepped back, “You have made my life a living hell over what?! Jealousy?! FUCK YOU!” He spat at her boots, vitriol made in desperation vomiting from his mouth, “I regret ever meeting you! You’re are just as pathetic as I thought you were! I can’t even THINK of PITYING A WHORE LIKE YOU!”
He took a deep breath, gasping, waiting for that punch he needed so much to feel. For that fire to crash and rip him to pieces.
All he felt was air.
She didn’t move, her eyes stayed focused on him. A large cat, pawing at a trapped, irate, helpless mouse, “You still haven’t told me what you really want.”
His eyes widened just barely before narrowing, “FUCK OFF!”
She sighed, slowly standing up, “Fine.” She turned her head, her feet pivoting.
Away from him.
From his shivering body.
His desperation pulsing in pain against the air.
She ripped his skin.
Pinched and almost tore his nipples from his chest.
His mouth still tasted his own blood mixed with her saliva.
His scalp itched from that inhuman hand nearly ripping out his hair.
Yet, she was walking away!
Leaving him there.
In this dark, damp, freezing cell.
Walls closing in.
The pressure continued to crush him.
The liquid continued to fill him.
Making him nearly burst from the inside out.
Hands covered his eyes, his hears, his mouth, and body.
Burying him.
“I-Ira, no!”
She stopped, but did not turn to look at him, “You told me to ‘fuck off’, Tristan.”
Tristan hesitated, his eyes watering as his name came out with dripping venom from her lips, “I want you…” He swallowed heavily again, mucus and bile hitting the pit of his stomach, “I-I want you to touch me… ” He trembled, the rage leaving only desperation, “I-I need you… to-to touch me…”
Ira chuckled, but there was that growl laced underneath, her head turning slowly, “You said some very mean things just now.”
He recognized the look in her eyes.
Wrath.
He ground his teeth together, intimate fear rippling up his spine.
Much to his horror and disappointment, that fear made his length jerk, twitching in anticipation.
What has she done to him?
What did he let her do…?
Ira stepped forward, one foot lifting his chin up, “I don’t want to touch you. Yet you don’t want me to leave. You don’t want me to stop.”
“Ir-Ira, please… don’t-don’t make me…”
“Tell me what you want.”
No more secrets.
No more lies.
There was nothing of his left in the void.
The blackness was devouring everything.
He shook his head, biting his bottom lip, his shoulders weighed down from the words that he could not let out of his throat.
They dangling on his tongue, stuck in his mind.
She cooed, “Time for the next dose…” She set her foot on one of his shoulders, pushing down, a pop of his joint echoing against the walls. That agony set him reeling, but it was the slight tap of her fingers on one vial that made him crash.
Electricity entered his veins, igniting his nerves. The acidic nature of the drug erupted under his flesh, and once again he drooled from his mouth and from his desperate, neglected, greedy cock.
“Tell me…what do you want?”
The hint of euphoria pushed him over the edge and into that sweet abyss. His voice was soft, lashes fluttering over foggy sapphire gems, “Hurt me. Please. I want you to hurt me.”
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