Six Months Free 4: Good Girls
TW: Broken bones, emotional whump, punishment, fear of punishment, noncon touch (not sexual), fear of noncon, mentions of past punishment/conditioning, conditioned whumpee, yandere/creepy whumper, blood (not a lot)
Thanks so much to @oddsconvert for beta reading this!!!!! You're the BEST!
Black spots swimming in her vision.
The hammer slammed down on her foot one last time.
She didn’t lose consciousness. She wanted to, god did she want to, but it didn’t happen. Her back arched off the bed, a guttural groan escaping her lips.
Not a scream, though. Never a scream. She didn’t even tear out of the restraints binding her in place, because good girls didn’t fight when they were being punished.
Was Hive—Damien, whatever she was supposed to call him—just her new handler?
You’re a good girl, aren’t you, EI427? This is the consequence of your choices. If you break the rules, you will be punished.
Her breaths were ragged as she tried to force air through her nose. Somehow, the pain was worse when Hive stopped bringing the hammer down. It let the agony settle. Diana clenched her hands into fists and squeezed her eyes shut.
She had survived the academy. She graduated, became a real hero, and adjusted to modern society. She broke the brainwashing of the REIA and escaped her handler, Brandon, only to be dragged back. No, worse than being dragged. This was a new hell. One where she didn’t know the rules or expectations, and where there was seemingly no purpose. At least at the academy, she knew the purpose: To train EIs until they either died or became heroes. She was tired of fighting. After surviving all of that, Diana was supposed to be free to eat ice cream, drink hot chocolate, and binge-watch trashy TV.
How could she survive this when she didn’t know what he wanted from her?
There was a thud as the hammer fell to the floor. Diana couldn’t see through her blurry vision, but she felt the bed shift beneath her. A deceptively gentle hand tugged the gag out of her mouth. Then he was… undoing her restraints. Her heart raced, adrenaline clearing the pain-induced haze enough for her eyes to widen. Hive untied her.
More punishment. She would have to walk, or he’d tie her so that she was forced to stand on the broken foot, or maybe she would have to complete some task, or….
Her hands clenched into fists in a fruitless effort to contain their trembling. She bit down on her tongue to hold back the pleas and pathetic whimpers. This was her own fault. Diana…. Diana knew that she wasn’t supposed to run. It was stupid to ever think that she could escape. EIs didn’t get happy endings. They died in the lab, died in the field, or—apparently—were abducted by their stalker for god knows what.
Hive came back into view after untying her legs, and Diana braced herself. Had he said something? Given an order? Her heart was racing so fast, and her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t hear.
Breaths ragged, panicked.
She blinked back tears. Good girls didn’t cry. It had been over six months since she was last punished. She thought she was free from it, thought that it was over, thought—
Hive cupped her cheek, and Diana flinched so violently that the entire bed jolted. Her foot moved. The pain was sudden enough that an unbidden scream left her lips, and she curled in on herself, trying to shield her face. There was some sort of sound. A low, rough voice, and Diana needed to listen, needed to obey, needed to or the punishment would be worse. Good girls listened to their handlers. Good girls took their punishments without complaint.
But she wasn’t a good girl. She had run away from Brandon, and she tried to run away from Hive, and this was her punishment for trying to leave the REIA. She was gasping. Choking. Hyperventilating. She couldn’t stop—couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think and—
Hands grabbed her shoulders. Diana tensed and recoiled, but didn’t scream again, just whimpered as she braced for pain. Only… it didn’t come. Damien simply moved her a little, until her head was resting on his lap. She squirmed, shaking, arms locked in place as they tried to shield her face from any abuse. Was he going to hit her? Put a shock collar back on? Yank out her hair? Yes, yes, that’s what was going to happen, she could feel his hand in her hair.
Still, no pain. He was just… petting her. When Diana tried to remove herself from her body, focused on the sensations, she could feel Hive’s emotions. There was no anger. No glee over the chance to inflict pain. Hive, he… he felt pity. Protective. Sympathetic. Through the ringing in her ears, she could hear the rumble of his voice, only she couldn’t process the words yet. It didn’t make sense. He was supposed to hurt her again, but he didn’t. Why didn’t he hurt her again?
Damien held her, just… cradling her on his lap and stroking her hair. As time passed, Diana calmed down enough to understand what he was saying. They were words Diana had never really heard. Some of them were comforting. Others, just… confusing.
You aren’t alone anymore.
I know, baby, I know it hurts.
I’m going to protect you. You’re safe now.
I love you, doll, it’s okay. I’m never letting you go.
We’re gonna build a life together.
We’re gonna fix this. Those sick fucks aren’t gonna ruin your life anymore, I’ll fix you.
I love you. That was what he said, but what did it mean? No one had ever told Diana that they loved her. No one had called her ‘baby’ before. No one had ever held her like this, either. It… It was nice. It felt really, really nice. She thought that it shouldn’t be nice. He had just broken her foot, he kidnapped her, and he was a villain, but… God, it felt so good to be comforted after a punishment. Because fiery agony was racing up and down her leg, and she didn’t feel good, and…. and she didn’t want to be EI427. She didn’t want to suffer in silence, terrified to make a sound.
When her breathing had fully settled and Damien had fallen quiet as he stroked her hair, Diana tried to gather her courage. She was sweaty, and trembling, and probably in shock and…. had to be delirious, because this was her handler now, right?
No he isn’t, this isn’t the REIA, you escaped.
But I didn’t escape. I just found a new cage. It was easier to think of him as her handler. It was something she understood, but EIs didn’t question their handlers. So why was she preparing to speak?
Handlers didn’t hold and comfort their EIs. Hive didn’t follow the rules. If-If he didn’t…maybe she could…. ask him a question. Maybe it was okay? Breath hitching, Diana forced herself to speak. “I…. Wh-What sh…. should I…. c-ca…. call you?” Her voice broke, and it was barely more than a whisper, and her body was already tensing—braced for the next round of punishment.
The man hummed. Diana felt the vibrations of his chest. His hand moved from her hair, and a whimper escaped Diana as she fought the urge to cover herself. It had been a mistake. She shouldn’t have opened her mouth, it—
He grabbed her chin. The touch was so, so gentle, but she flinched again. He was going to choke her, or slam her face into the wall, or—
He didn’t do any of that. Instead, he wiped the sweaty strands of hair out of her face. “Why don’t you just call me Damien? Does that sound okay, Diana?”
Diana’s eyes widened, lips parting in shock. No pain. And…. Damien. His name. Not sir, not master, or some other title. It made her head spin. If he wasn’t her handler, what was this? What was happening? Why did he punish her if he wasn’t her new handler?
Tremors took over her frame, a raggedness returning to her breath, but Hive—no, Damien—just held her tighter. She squeezed her eyes shut, unconsciously leaning into his chest as her battered foot throbbed. Spasms shot up and down her leg. He began to gently soothe her again, murmuring sweet nothings as he stroked her hair. “It’s okay to cry,” he whispered. “It’s okay to be confused. I have you, everything will be so much better now.”
It’s okay to cry? It’s okay to be confused? No. No, no, it…. it wasn’t. Heroes needed to act. They couldn’t hesitate, or be confused, or show weakness.
You’re not a hero anymore, Diana! You left that behind!
But apparently, she didn’t, because Hive took her back. Being around him, it made…. it made all of the lessons she had tried to forget come back. The old instincts returned stronger than ever. Her eyes flew open, pupils dilated with fear and darting wildly around the room. This wasn’t okay. This… This wasn’t right, she didn’t deserve to be held and comforted. Muscles tensing, Diana tried to move out of his arms.
Fire shot up her leg. Diana bit down on her tongue to stop herself from screaming. Blood immediately pooled in her mouth, and she collapsed again, barely stifling a sob. A small whimper escaped. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth.
“Honey… Diana, darling, don’t you see? It’s okay, you’re safe now….” Damien fully scooped her into his arms, holding her on his lap.
The action moved her foot. The sack of bones scraped across the mattress. No, no, no, don’t make a sound.
This is your punishment, good girls don’t resist their punishment. Heroes don’t show their pain.
But she couldn’t help it. A blood-curdling scream spilled from her lips, and Damien held her tightly against him. Every instinct, every lesson of training and the memory of electricity flooding her veins urged her not to. But as he cradled her, Diana clenched her fists in Damien’s jacket. She buried her face in his chest, and let herself sob. A beetle skittered out from beneath his shirt as Diana clung to him.
What did this mean? What did any of this mean? Baby—darling— honey—I love you—safe—punishment—Damien—Hive—handler—hammer—kisses, nipping her ear—caressing—touching—holding... none of it made sense, and she wanted to scream and cry.
For the first time in years, Diana found herself craving her old comfort object. It was just an old stuffed rabbit that had been taken from her when she graduated the academy, but as a child, she held it when undergoing operations or training sessions. Right now, Diana had that same mix of fear and confusion swirling inside her, so intense she couldn’t even sense Damien’s feelings.
His hand continued to stroke her hair as he held her close. Her foot, disfigured and smashed and bruised—bones protruding from the skin—hung loosely off the side of the bed. It hurt so bad, but she couldn’t complain, she couldn’t. But she also wasn’t supposed to cry and hold onto her handlers or the scientists, but Damien seemed to like when she did that. What was she supposed to do, how was she supposed to act? What were the rules? How could she be good when she didn’t know the rules?
It hurt. She was scared, confused, and dammit, she wanted her comfort object, Cotton, back.
At least Damien wasn’t mad at her for clinging to him. But what if it was a trick? A test? Something to see how well she would obey, remember the rules, and….
A scream built in her throat, begging to be released. None of it made sense.
“I knew you had it in you,” Damien cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
He liked her hair. He kept touching the long, auburn strands, twisting curls around his fingers.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say, if she could speak, what to do, god, what was she supposed to do? Then Damien stood, and she gasped, breath hitching.
The blood from her tongue trickled down her chin.
Damien tilted his head down, licking up the trail of red.
Don’t scream. Don’t cry, don’t…. “Let’s get that foot taken care of, sweetheart,” he cooed, and he carried her out of the room.
Tag list! (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!!!) @stars-hide-our-fires, @watsonbee, @oddsconvert, @weibun-art
