herdeadringer

If it came to it, you’d defend yourself and would kill him if needed. You had a son. A baby who was unable to defend himself. But you could. Just the idea of jamming Jeremy with sedation made the journey around this hell a little bit clearer.

Michael got in front of you, arms out to stop you as someone was close. The scraping of a saw whirred in your ears. 

“It’s him.” Michael trembled in front of you.

“Who is it? What's that noise, Michael?”

He hesitated, crouched down on the ground and made himself as small as possible. “It’s him… it’s the cannibal…”

“The-“ The saw ground and squeaked against metal, cringing your ears.

“I have to feed.” He said, but did not appear around the corner.

Michael pulled you away, taking you in the opposite direction, padding low along the floor to keep out of sight. His hands trembled in yours, loosely gripping, but filled with desperation to make sure he never lost sight of you.

No words. Nothing but a mutual understanding.

By the end of the hall, Michael spoke once the saw had quietened down in the distance. “He eats people… I’ve seen-I’ve seen him do it.”

You were certain Michael's mind was close to splintering. Having been taken as soon as he left you at your apartment, it was fascinating how bad just a few days had been for him. Your inner psychiatrist tried to take control to mediate your own mind. A coping mechanism of sorts. However, you didn’t know that. Opting for psychological medicine filled your guilt right up. It ate at you in the only way it knew how since it was flooded with maternal hormones.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Woah-hey, hey… don’t cry.”

Like you could help it. “I never meant any of this to happen. I’ve fucked up bad and you’ve suffered for it-“

“Shh.” His hand over your mouth was still warm, just dirty. “He'll hear you, and I can’t defend you all on my own.”

But the rumbling saw never came close, it dissipated into the background until the building's low autonomic groan was left. A rumbling that you were somehow used to already, reminding you of the facility. 

Doors rattling, voices screaming, aggressively calling out to anyone who would listen. Wolf whistles. People eager to get out. Individual bodies piled in rooms watching brain dead television shows and static. This place wasn’t much different to the facility besides being much more archaic in its practices.

We haven’t come that far in hindsight. We still lock people up and hope they get better…

Psychology had always been a fascinating subject.

Not anymore.

“Is there a map anywhere? To tell us where we’re going?” You asked, following close behind Michael.

He held your hand close, wandering aimlessly down one hall, slowing down and looking at either end. “I don’t think so. This place is a goddamn maze. But I know there’s a coded door we have to get through. Maybe we can by pass it by trying a window or something. I don’t even know what floor we're on.”

“First floor.” You said. “Yeah… we’re on the first floor I think. I woke up when they were bringing me in. We didn't take stairs or an elevator. We must be on the first floor.”

“Okay. Well that rules out our window theory.” He wasn’t whispering anymore.

Had the sudden danger vanished? “Why? We should be able to fit through somewhere. It’s an old building.” You stopped keeping your voice down too.

“I overheard someone talk about how they welded more covers over the windows on the first floor. But maybe if we can get upstairs, we could go up to get down.”

It was a plan, however, that required you to spend more time in hell. The longer you spent away from Clyde, the more physically painful it became. Like your body knew how much he must have been suffering without your presence, your milk and comfort.

“Or we could bash the door open and stop the detour altogether. I need to get you out, Michael, I also need to get to my baby.”

“Then we bash the door down. Not sure what with, but in a place like this, I’m sure we'll find something.”

Michael started looking down the hallway, up and down and in between. You tried any doors that opened, he opened them too, cautiously with a low groan of the hinge before attempting to push his head through to see anything of notable value.

You peered through too, holding the swelling softness of your belly as it ached. “Anything. Anything heavy. Something to-“ 

What was that? That sound. The saw. The… Oh fuck.

Michael yanked you into a darkened room, shushing. The saw grew louder, echoing down the filthy hallway like it was hunger incarnate. Feet slapping along the floor grew louder, eking a predatory smell into the woodwork.

“Gorgeous… Just the smell. Clots and iron.”

From the light of the doorway, you saw. The blood had trickled down your thighs by now, almost down to your dusty, torn up feet. “Oh no… he can smell me.”

Could a man really have that good of a sense of smell? You recalled your first day with Eddie, meeting him in that room restrained like an animal. He sensed you before you had even opened the door.

“Maybe I can lead him away, and you can try the door.”

Michael turned, his features barely visible. “No. Are you insane? You have the baby to worry about. What if that maniac catches you? Eddie will have my head. He’ll kill me-He’ll do worse than kill me, he’ll pulverise me.”

You couldn't say for certain he wouldn't in honesty. Getting caught wasn't an option. “I got you into this, Michael. Let me put it right. I might be able to lead him away without even seeing me.”

“The meat is mine when I sink my teeth into it.” The man was closer with his roaring saw knuckles deep between each syllable.

Michael hesitated, peeking his head out a fraction and snuck right back over to you. “Okay… c’mon. I have an idea.”

To the back of the room, you followed him to a coffee table against the back wall. “What is it?”

“An opportunity.” He snatched the cardboard box full of books from the coffee table, pushing it to the front and pointing at the empty space. “But… Holy crap my heart is pounding. My heart it’s… if he gets me.“

“No, he won’t. He won’t because you’ll go nowhere near him, right?” Somehow the whispering and pause was louder than the saw. “Right?”

The man drew nearer, stalking around, opening doors Michael had done previously. “Think you’re so clever, hiding from me.”

Michael pointed under the table. “Get in there, get down low under the table and stay out of sight. I’ll get the coded door open. Just… I have to do one thing that’ll be totally out of the blue.”

You understood his out of character behaviour. You’d be erratic too if you had seen what he had in the short time he had been here. 

Still, you couldn’t help but ask. “What do you mean-“

Michael held your shoulders with a softness you’d never experienced with him. He leant in and kissed your cheek so delicately, it was as though he had never done it. 

“I’ve always had a soft spot for you.” He said. “And I want you to get out. You have to get out for your baby. So please... Stay here… I just… this is so fucked up.”

“Michael-“

“Don’t. Just think of me.” Michael turned for the door, ignoring you completely, dipping his head out around the open door.

“Michael wait-“

“Here-Here, Here, you big dickhead!” He threw his hands up, waving them as though signalling a car to hitch hike. “Come get me!”

“Michael!”

He either didn’t hear or ignored you entirely. “Look at me! Look at me over here-come get me!”

The saw roared towards the door and Michael bolted away from it, leading the man down another hallway. “There you are!”

“Oh my god… oh my… fuck.” So what… you just had to hide under this coffee table until he came back? How could you leave him like that? Your conscience forced you onto your knees at least, quivering like a leaf covered in your own blood. “How could I even-“

“There she is!” A thick hand gripped your ankle so that it burned as it pulled you back from the coffee table.

There was nothing to say, so you just held your breath. Because if you didn’t, you’d scream. It was the men from before, the harsh grip reminded you too. Their voices, deep and scratchy like gravel, laughing at the way you flailed your other leg about as they pulled you out of half-hiding. The other men waited by the doorframe, leaning arrogantly while you were assaulted.

“Ah man, I really thought she’d squeal.”

“You owe me twen’y bucks.”

“Fuck.”

The man holding you had strength that you thought could rival Eddie. His grip burned, the carpet burned as you were dragged across it.

“Wait, wait! Don’t take me now-you have to get Michael. Save him.” If that man got a hold of him. Well, Michael said so himself. That man would eat him. "You have to save him!"

“Manera’s hungry.” He laughed, yanking you up from the floor completely unaware of your lowered pain threshold after trauma. “He’ll keep him occupied for a little while. Mr Blaire wants to see you.”

“No, no, listen to me-you have to listen to me, that man will kill him. You have to stop him before he kills him! Michael shouldn’t be here-“

“He’s very surprised you lasted this long without bumping into any of his monsters. He wants to congratulate you.”

He ignored you, they both ignored you. Dragging you out of the room like last night's garbage. You were stunned, speechless, almost unsure if any of this was even happening.

“Yeah, something like that.”

But what made it real, was seeing Jeremy Blaire’s smug face, and the fact that no one had found the sedation gun yet. “There she is. I was beginning to wonder where you were.”

“Found the little mouse hiding under a table, Mr. Blaire.” One of them said, pushing you down to your knees with an eager push. “She won’t get very far doing that.”

All the air left the room. “Oh my god…” 

Because what made it real, was seeing another vile globe in the middle of the room. Part of you hoped he was bluffing, but seeing the morphogenic engine even closer than before was enough to upset anyone’s stomach.

“No, she won’t.” Jeremy smiled, far to saccharine to enjoy. He pointed to the engine and looked back with that condescending smugness. “You know what this is, so we don’t have to get into specifics.”

Specifics? They wanted to throw you into the blender. “It’s that morphogenetic engine bullshit you allowed into the facility. It was sat in there like some twisted museum of curiosities.”

It was here where you struggled in their grip, your body naturally trying to repel itself away from the glass ball of death.

“While that may be, it wasn’t out of service. So it wouldn’t be in a museum. No, it’s more like a revolving door. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Two men on the go. A spider with two flies, undecided of which fat, juicy fly to eat first. Poor Charles succumbed first. And now Gluskin is facing the consequences of your actions.”

Just the mere mention of his name shoved you into unanticipated aggression. “Eddie’s coming for me. And when he does, then you’ll see.”

Jeremy sighed, shaking his head dismissively. “Well… let’s get on to other things, hm?” He froze, his mouth open and closed. Then opened again to say, “you know what, Agent?”

“What’s that, Mr. Blaire?”

He tapped his chin skulking towards you with uninterrupted eye contact. “Since all of the women were sent away at Mount Massive, it got me thinking… I wonder how a post-partum mom fares in the engine?”

“No-No, no, no! Don’t put me in that thing!”

"Maybe it’ll do what it did before, maybe something different.” He waited, looking around the room for something obvious. “What are you waiting for? I need your consent. Yes… are you sure? Okay then. You hear that, agents? She wants to be the first female patient for the Morphogenic engine programme since we sent all the others away.”

“Yes Mr. Blaire. I heard it.”

“That’s excellent, Agent, so get the engine ready.”

“Yes, Mr. Blaire.” One let go and walked past you.

This was your chance to struggle. So you did. “Just wait until I get out of here and blow this thing wide open. You’ll be sorry!”

Jeremy folded his arms, his disappointed glare was lost on you. “And that’s why Charles refused you access no matter how badly that cute piece of ass pleaded with him.”

He stalked towards you, arms still folded, eyes trained on you like a feral dog. “Always the bridesmaid and never the bride… you could have had such a bright future with Murkoff. Shame.” Kneeling down, he placed a hand on you. “You could still have that, y’know? I’m sure Charles would be delighted to see your change of heart after what you did to him.”

“Charles is dead.”

“Is he?”

You hesitated, noting how straightforward Jeremy was. It was a seed of doubt that had no place inside your head. “…Yes. I saw him die. There was… There was nothing left of him

He grinned, this time it wasn't smug exactly. You could only describe it as true excitement. “Agents, why don’t you bring Murkoff's pet out for our company here? I’m sure she’d like to say that to his face.”

“Yes, Mr. Blaire.” 

Two men you hadn’t seen walked off towards a door in the corner. It was more like a cage, or something a zoo would utilise to release the lions first thing in the morning.

“What do you…” 

“Y’know, this is the part I’ve come to love.” He placed an arrogant hand on your shoulder for some twisted act of comfort.

The door lifted, clattering at the top and locked in place. You couldn’t quite make out what that noise was. A groaning, slapping, possibly crying. Painful; it sounded so painful. Sloppy. Squelching in the dark until it found the light.

It, yes it, crawled out of the door, dragging its belly. “What the fuck is that thing?!”

Jeremy gripped your face to make you look at him. “Come on now, don’t be rude. You don’t recognise him?”

Of course you didn’t. This almost-homogenous blob slid out of the doorway and crawled around the floor. The agents stood back and kicked it away if it got too close.

“It’s Charles.” Jeremy said. “I thought you two knew each other on a… personal level. But don’t worry, he still has no backbone.”

It had no fucking eyes. Its legs stuck out the back, only barely pushing itself along. No way that was Charles. There was nothing left of him. Its body had been crudely stitched together, weeping red lines crisscrossed over the entire shapeless blob. It was adorned with tuffs of hair and teeth sticking out of random pockets of skin crusted with blood.

“Get one of the freaks, let’s show our guest of honour just how much the cookie crumbles.”

“This isn’t right…”

“It’s him alright. I wouldn’t get too close though.” Jeremy held you there, his harsh grip pressing into your jaw with seemingly no effort.

You couldn’t inject him here with all these people. You felt for the sedation gun anyway, ready to use it at a moment's notice once your attention wasn’t on that thing in the corner. Just the man they dragged into the room.

It was terrifying.

“Get off me-please don’t put me in that thing! I know what it did to Billy! Stop! STOP!” The agents dragged him closer, dressed in the same uniform as you.

He froze as soon as he saw the thing laying on the floor. “What the hell is that?! No! PLEASE NO!”

Jeremy didn’t stand. “Ah, Peter. You’ve been touching yourself outside of the bedroom again”

One of the agents kicked the frightened man’s knees until he was down. “He was doin’ it again when we found him, Mr. Blaire.”

He tutted, letting you go to parade his ego around the room. “You’ve been very naughty. And Charles here, well he hasn’t had anyone to love since the baby mama here left him.” He pointed right at you. “Why don’t you satisfy your urges right now?”

Your eyes welled. Is he going to make that man… just like before. Despite what you held for Eddie, you swore to yourself no one would touch you like that again where you had no choice and everything overwhelmingly came flooding back.

Helplessness. Self preservation. Your hand shook on the sedation gun out of pure fear. I can’t let anyone touch me like that again.

The man froze and watched you, eyed you with precision along your body. “Her?…”

Please… I can’t let that happen again.

Jeremy chuckled, and it morphed into something energetic. A joke no one else understood. “Her? No. Peter, your humour is starting to show. No, I mean him.”

Pointing to the pulsating blob on the floor that had moved maybe a foot across, leaving a pile of blood on its tracks. Skid marks if it were a car, perfectly parallel.

Peter writhed about in the agent's grip, trying to stand up during a flood. “N-No. No! I-I’m okay I wanna go back to my cell-let me go back to my cell!”

Walking back over, Jeremy stood behind you like he was presenting you to a grand jury. “Come on, Peter. This is your therapy now. Might as well trust in it. Therapy does wonders for the mind.”

The agents held him down flat on the floor. He was crying, you always hated it when they cried. “What are you going to do to him?” You never did have a chance to let that sweet breath of relief once you knew you weren't in the firing line.

You were just next in line.

“Watch and see. Spoilers are dreadful.”

The blob slid over his toes first, crawling up his legs as he screamed. It was more like tripping and shambling over something that wasn’t flat. Again, it left a stream of blood behind it, groaning and whining in orchestral horror. Screams, chokes, blood-curdling sounds you would never forget. You thought at first that it was consuming him. Possibly eating its way into his belly, or potentially burrowing away to lay eggs with something monstrous. Not matter how much Jeremy lied and said this was a human being, you could not believe it.

Charles was dead. There was nothing left of him.

This? This was a creation that defied evolution.

It kept moving up, there was nowhere else to look. Not when it moved over his neck and face until his cries muffled. They were still going. Still right there and no one was doing anything about it. Still screaming. Still conscious. Still alive. And that’s where it stopped, right over his head and ignored his limbs trying to move from under it. No eyes anywhere you could see, and it just cried along with its victim.

“He’s… He’s dying. Someone help him.” You couldn’t believe it yourself.

Murkoff was worse than evil. It truly was hell.

“Please.” You begged but couldn’t stop looking. “Please!”

He was still screaming, surely getting crushed and aware of everything. Every muscle contraction and warm roll of skin pressing down on his chest. Every lost breath each time he breathed out.

“He’s dying-Stop it… stop it. STOP IT!”

Jeremy remained where he was just as the others did. “Of course, Charles isn’t perfect. We tried. And with such little time too.”

You did your very best to push Jeremy away to do... something, you hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick!”

He snatched you back before you even took a knee from the floor. His fingered pinched so hard you sobbed. “You keep this up and I’ll let that blob do whatever it wants to you and I’ll hold you down myself… it still has working crown jewels, I made sure of it. Maybe it’ll knock you up again if we're lucky.”

The searing pain through your post-partum body kept you still, he did not let go and watched the man stop moving and his screams of terror die out. “I know… I know, I was shocked about it myself. But at Murkoff, we do all we can to keep our staff alive.”

There was no stopping your tears, your heartbreak. It showed just how much you craved Eddie’s protection… His embrace of all things. “This is barbaric… He was… there was nothing left of Charles. I saw the engine-god! He’s fucking dead!”

“Okay.” Jeremy chuckled. “You got me. It’s not all Charles, but there’s plenty of him we stuck back together. I’m pretty sure you’d never know the difference.”

“Kill… me…” It cried out suddenly, gasping for breath out of a hole you couldn’t see.

Jeremy let go of you over your fearful screams and wide eyed shock. “I hate it when they scream right by me. Go. Put her in the engine-”

“Wait, wait-WAIT!” You lunged for his leg, kneading your way up to his suit jacket and tugged on it in one last chance to escape it. “I have one thing to say, please, please, I can’t go without knowing one thing!”

If this didn’t work, then your last thought would be your baby. I just hope he doesn’t think I abandoned him. I hope Eddie doesn’t think that too. But this surely had to work. One chance. Too stunned to speak to do anything about it. If Eddie was correct and witnessed this, then it should work on Jeremy too.

He didn’t help you up, but looked down at you because his ego dictated it. “Go on. Last words, or whatever.”

You gripped it, tugging on it, praying you could pull it on him fast enough. “Go to hell!"

It would become one question you’d ask yourself for the rest of your life. How did you inject Jeremy Blaire with that sedation gun so quickly? No one anticipated it, but the sedation gun was there in your underwear the entire time. Idiots.

After its injection, the effects were almost instant. Jeremy didn’t even get a chance to respond. He grasped at his neck, a look of fear across his face for the first time, spluttering bloody syllables and vowels you didn’t bother to understand. The agents ran over, pushing past you to watch their boss bleed from his eyes and cough up his lungs.

It was imperative not to panic at the idea that you had just potentially killed someone, not to freak out and take their attention away when the blob shambled past you. If you made noise louder than Jeremy’s pained gargling, it was all for naught. 

So, before the agents could set their sights on you for punishment, you covered your mouth and ran out of the door away from the consequences and back into the asylum to find Michael.

Hopefully you’d find Eddie on the way. And in extension, your baby.

Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31

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It had been a while since the whole room span and threw Hendrick into his own pit of dominance he used in his own company on occasion. Usually when his fist was wrapped around his cock, or whenever he fantasized about specific reagents. 

One a week at most, picking one and studying everything about them over the cameras he had a direct link to in the side part of his office.

There, he spent most of his time off the clock, observing and touching himself.

Little tics, traits and tells on anxiety and fear.

Biting the dead skin by finger nails. Rhythmic tapping of bare feet over the linoleum. Pacing back and forth the room like a captive lion.

All perfect in inducting themselves in the therapy. All tantalising in showing Hendrick that the therapy was working. 

Give in to fear. Let me guide them.

And this week, he had his sights set on you.

You were a newer reagent, shy and not quite broken in by the therapy. 

Shy. What a word. An emotional state of discomfort, nerves and self-consciousness. Now, it wasn't that Hendrick wanted to eradicate them, not in the slightest. He wanted to break them away to co-exist beside you, something he could tap into when he wanted, when he craved it.

So he picked up the microphone and lazily tapped the button ready to spew his own toxicity.

“Are you there?” He watched the screens intently, noting how you jumped at the radio.

He chuckled to himself, running his fingers down the glass screen over your body. “I know you’re there. I wanted to talk with you, to enlighten you.”

Sitting on your bed, you were hesitant to step forward. The desk chair sat off to the side and it coaxed you, as though it was calling an old friend. And with each inch, you edged forward, though stopping short.

"Dr Easterman?"

“It is... You have done so well. I saw the raw, bloody power you performed in the trials. And I want to say that I’m proud of you.” 

It wasn’t entirely the case. From what he remembered seeing last night, you hid most of the time, ran away and barely scraped by. A ‘D’ grade. Pathetic at best. He didn’t know why he bothered half the time, tapping his fingers over his desk in a way to split the disappointment in half. 

But, Hendrick could see past the failure if there were… other uses for you. No reagent went to waste. Everything could be used again and again. And again.

And tonight, he wanted to use you. Get a kick from pushing you around from pillar to post and see just how far you’d obey him given your disposition.

He spoke to himself as a whisper. “Come on… sit down on that chair. Because I told you to.”

And you did. You sat down on cue.

“Look at that.” He cooed into the metal grate by his lips. “You listen so well. Aren’t you just the best little reagent ever, hm?”

You did nothing at first, fiddling with your fingers or picking your nails in an attempt to pass the weighted heaviness in the room by. 

“The rest of the world moves by, and here you are, sitting in that little chair because it’s what you think you were told to do. But in reality, I never said a thing. You are perfect for what I need. Shyness is a veil over our own insecurities. And I happen to think you’re cute.”

Not a word Hendrick would use really, but for someone with your temperament, it suited very well. And now, you were watching the radio with such concentration. 

“Me?” You said, even going as far as to point at yourself before looking away from the radio as if he were in the room. “Uh… well-“

God, he needed to ruin that vulnerable little virgin act. Because it was an act, right? He needed to know. He had to find out what you were all about and just how far he could push you.

"Yes. See, I've ben watching you and you are the best reagent I have ever had." A lie. But who was counting?

‘He called me cute?’ You were probably saying, blushing that his attention shifted to you without so much as an effort on your part. Hendrick mulled over the chemical and what it was making him do. He could coo over you all night, watching you shy away and wonder what shade of red your cheeks were. 

But his narcotic high had other plans and he went with it. “Now, I want to call you my little ‘how high’, but will you go the extra mile and ask for it?"

You didn’t move, but he was certain he saw how your head nodded slowly as though entranced by his words. "Okay..."

Perfect.

Hendrick sent a brief note on his telex to the sleeproom. ‘Release her to my office.’ along with your reagent number.

“That’s a good little rabbit, you’re doing perfectly. Now, come to my office, and I’ll show you how high daddy wants you to go. Will you do it?”

It wasn’t like you had a choice.

As you got up, Hendrick grew excitable with a long grin at his lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing. Hop along now…” Once the mic switched off and Hendrick had his eyes on your walk to his office, he continued on to himself. “And watch you enter the hounds teeth before you get a chance to run.”

Utilising Kress twins chemicals, put Hendrick on a cloud he hadn’t sat upon in quite some time. Deep heated air in his head with sharp razor blades to convince him to do something insane. Hendrick heard the knock before he had a chance to trot to his desk and settle himself and his drug induced heart rate.

“Come in.” He rushed over and straightened himself up enough to be presentable.

There you were, hunched over and refusing eye contact. The guard stepped over the threshold and let you pass.

“Here she is, Dr. Easterman.”

“Good.” Was all he needed to say.

“I’ll be waiting in the hall when you’re ready.” Then he left, softly closing the door that no doubt did not settle you.

There were plenty of ways he could have gone with this. Gentle, soft, reassuring you that he was about to use you for his own sexual gratification. Maybe rough, unwavering with a harsh grip at your wrists.

That required far too much energy.

No, what Hendrick saw, was an opportunity, extorting your shy nature and getting exactly what he wanted. 

Like the length of cord he kept in his desk drawer. He’d often use it on himself, even going as far as making a custom sized loop at the end to thread the cord through to tighten it around his neck whilst on the edge of climax. The pressure elevated his orgasm. It sent him into a zone where seeing stars was not only for astronomers.

But, if he were to use it for something other than direct erotic asphyxiation, where would that lead?

“Did you know that a dog's choke lead is for temporary control? Something that pulls tight to discourage pulling and corrects behaviour quickly?”

You nodded as you were formed to do so by Hendrick’s own hand. 

“You know, you’re incredibly well behaved, aren’t you?”

You knew better than to utter a word out of line, simply nodding in his direction.

“So if I said kneel, you would?…” To test the water, he emphasised on his pause.

And you kneeled.

“Good!" You flinched at his excitement.

"You listen perfectly. Such a cute face.” There was a flicker of his dominance that surfaced to his cheeks. “I want you to put this on and leave it, do you understand?”

"Uh..." Your eyes darted to the cord. Nodding again. “Y-Yes, Dr. Easterman.”

So delicate, soft enough to cushion the grit and shit and never let it break all over the floor. Tender enough that if you were anywhere else, Hendrick would have no chance in understanding the respectful words you uttered.

Yes Dr. Easterman. No Dr. Easterman

“Fantastic.” He laid the cord over your head until it laid as he wanted it. “This will only go tighter if you aren’t performing how I expect you to. It will correct your behaviour.”

A complete lie.

“Think of it as an experiment.” 

Hendrick noticed how your lip trembled, clearly having words on your mind yet thinking twice on an action. Good, very good. Just by the sight of the cord, you did not challenge him.

“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Then he pulled.

“No… Dr. Easterman.”

Looking at you on your knees right in front of him, excited the very part of him he did not try to curb. There was the pressure in his slacks, raging and prompting him to use you as he would use himself.

And he pulled.

Only with enough slack to put your head closer to him. Not enough to choke you with. 

“Now, you’ll do something for me.” He said, unzipping his pants with a casual tone. “Think of it as… as a test. One to see just how loyal you are. Are you loyal to daddy?”

You gulped, cheeks flushed red as though you wanted to project, though you never did. “Y-Yes, Dr. Easterman.”

“Uh, uh.” He wagged his finger.

"I'm not sure-"

He yanked the cord to which you silenced. "See how this corrects behaviour?"

“Yes… daddy.”

You didn’t even need to be told, nor reminded again. “You are a fast learner, aren’t you? Wow, I am so impressed.” 

Without a prompt, your hands found his thighs as he pulled closer, a little tighter now. They gripped him like you were well aware of what you were doing, yet you doe-eyes explained very clearly that you did not.

“Let me guide you, little mouse.”

Gripping your chin, Hendrick opened your mouth and slipped his thumb inside. He pulled his cock free in one hand, massaging an area of your tongue with until you gagged with the other.

“That’s it, react just like that.”

Right before he knew it, his thumb was deeper inside your mouth than he ever intended. Your body lurched forward, almost going as far as grabbing his wrist to stop him though you never did. You avoided eye contact once he pulled out, fiddling with those twitchy fingers of yours in the meantime.

“You’re shy. But you needn't be. I’ll guide you through it, because you’ll do as you’re told, won’t you? Do everything I ask because you’re daddy’s little rabbit.” He rubbed your lips with the tip of his cock, excited to hear you gag once more. “You’ll hop, and you’ll hop because it’s in your nature. And when the warren sees danger, you’ll freeze.”

You did just that, hesitantly welcoming his cock in your mouth, too rigid to say no and hyper aware at the cord around your neck to which Hendrick pulled until he could loop it once around his fist.

Control and pleasure.

One slow, controlled thrust into your mouth and your tears were perfect. For once, you maintained eye contact, never mimicking behaviour that you wanted to pull away just yet. 

There was always next time.

Hendrick’s cock throbbed as it touched the back of your throat and sent your body doubling over again though stuck in place.

“There…” He lost all logical reasoning with his high. No tangents or quick witted remarks to speak in other meanings. “You take it so well... You must have done this before-who did you do this with?”

He suddenly found himself possessive over you, wondering what other men stood in his shoes and looked down at you like this. Eyes watering, glossy and vulnerable. His high was pressuring him to find out the answer, switching his mood in an instant. When you struggled and vibrated your throat in order to form vowels, Hendrick pulled himself out of your mouth and asked again.

His hand rested at your throat along with the toughened cord. “Who? Tell me who you fornicated with?”

“No-“ Coughing. “I wasn’t-“ Wheezing. “I’m a virgin-“

Too well. You took him far too well to be pure enough to blush your cheeks and allow your lip to quiver that way with a rope around your neck. 

A virgin meant no husband.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I-I would never…”

So what, you just took cock like that naturally? Hendrick could think clearly. One of his darling reagents acting on his every whim, was made just for him?

“If that’s true, then you won’t have anyone else but me, understand?”

Your eyes widened despite the restriction, clearly wanting to say something. Hendrick was still self-aware enough to realise where your true feelings lied. Yet you still said nothing.

“Good.”

Now you were his forever. And to celebrate, his ego and his determination shoved his cock into your mouth and fucked your jaw like a toy.

You were his now. Only his to use and do what his instincts drove him to.

“Yes… mine.” He tugged the cord as a way to tell himself that he would pick no more reagents to spy on.

Just you.

No teeth, just compliant lips and a firm tongue along the underside of his shaft. Back and forth, adding and pulling a sensation which made it twitch and ready itself for release.

“All mine. Every part.”

Hendrick was one to come quickly, with no self-restraint. You tapped his hips with each thrust, gasping for breath until he paid you mind and listened.

And when he did ejaculate down your throat, he fantasised over your tongue.

Her tongue.

“Let me see it. Show me your tongue.”

You spluttered, wrapping your arms around your chest and coughing up drool and Hendrick’s lust. “W-wait-“

“Show me.” He grabbed your chin, and opened your mouth until your tongue poked out. 

Nothing.

No ejaculate. Nothing on your tongue that Hendrick needed to see.

“That won’t do, little mouse. You were doing so well. Stay with me and I’ll show you just how confident you could be.”

Hendrick was fascinated but how little you resisted. And he’d take more than just your virginity and the need to bask in your nerves.