#reader insert fic

Your son, Cassian, had come rushing into the living room to you, tears streaking his little face, something that would alarm any mother instantly

You barely had time to register the situation or collect any clues on why he had been so upset.

It wasn't entirely unusual for your little gift to be worked up, he was particular, just like his father, but today he told you what had ruffles his feathers right away

Hannibal had, apparently, yelled at the poor boy, something you certainly did not condone

You could excuse murder, but this is where you draw the line. (/ref)

So you now found yourself walking to Hannibal's office, Cassian close behind you, holding onto the hem of your dress as he trails behind you

Hannibal rarely raises his voice, especially not in front of the children, but the way Cassian was trembling and sobbing makes you hold onto the truth in his accusation.

Hannibal looks up from his desk as you enter, "Darling, how can I–"

"Hannibal, don't." you sharply interrupt his smooth words. in sharply, pointing back at Cassian, who sniffles and presses closer to you.

Hannibal blinks once, before his gaze shifts to his son.

"Now... what do we have here?"

"He said you yelled at him..."

"I corrected him..." Hannibal says calmly.

Your voice tightens with emotion as you remind him that Cassian is a child, your child nonetheless, behind you Cassian nods and clutches your dress, sniffling a bit

Hannibal's gaze flicks between you and your son, he lets our a thoughtful, maybe almost amused hum

"Cassian, do you have something to say?" Hannibal asks, seemingly already one step ahead.

You glance down at Cassian again, his expression shifted, the tears having stopped, his expression almost smug

You bite the inside of your cheek, caught somewhere between hurt and something dangerously close to pride, before sinking down to Cassian's level and kissing the top of his head, fingers brushing gently through his soft hair.

"My little Cassian" you sigh, fond despite yourself.

"Just like papa, aren't you?"

"Perhaps, too much like me..." Hannibal said, amused as he watched you

Cassian looks up at you, wide-eyed and calculating now, his earlier tears completely gone

Hannibal sighs, indulgent rather than irritated, he knew to feed a hungry boy like Cassian early

"Manipulation is an art, Cassian. But artistry requires refinement." His gaze slides to you, "Your mother, however, knows exactly when she is being played."

He rises from his desk and comes to meet the two of you, but he didn't crouch down with you

Instead his hand settled on the back of your head, "And yet she indulges you anyway... why do you think that is? Because of her kindness or because of her weakness?" he continues thoughtfully, thumb tracing slow circles against the back of your head

Cassian hesitates for only a moment before answering with complete certainty: "Kindness!"

Hannibal lets out a low, pleased chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple. "A diplomatic answer, I see."

He stands and offers you his hand without question.

Relief washes through you the moment Hannibal touches you, because despite everything, he is your world, and so you take his hand, standing up straight, palm settling against his chest as you nuzzle instinctively into the crook of his neck.

"Our little Hannibal..." you hum with quiet amusement.

Hannibal's arm slips securely around your waist, drawing you closer

He smiles faintly against your hair, "Yes..." he agrees softly. "Our little prodigy."

You scoop Cassian up into your arms then, pulling him into the circle you and Hannibal have formed, cradling him against your chest.

"Aren't you proud you're just like Papa, my bird?" you ask gently.

Hannibal watches the two of you with something almost tender in his eyes, his hand resting warm and steady at your hip.

Cassian looks up at him, "I want to be better."

Hannibal reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind Cassian's ear, the gesture deceptively gentle. "A dangerous ambition, and one I expect from you."

Hannibal leans in close, breath brushing your temple as he speaks only for you, "He will surpass me one day. And I will savour every moment of watching him try."

The words send a shiver full of conflicting feelings through you.

Pride, uncertainty, fondness... but you accept it all the same, leaning closer into both Hannibal and Cassian, your gaze softening as it settles on your husband.

"Oh, my husband..."

Hannibal's fingers trace the line of your jaw, before he cups your face fully

"Oh, my wife." with that soft low voice that you know is only meant for you "You bind us all together so beautifully."

Hannibal presses his forehead to yours, "You are the gravity in our orbit, and we, my dear… merely circle you. And I would tear the world apart to keep you at the center."

A faint blush covers you as you smile and answer him, "Oh, my most beloved… what would I be but a hopeless bird if you hadn't caught me?"

You kiss him gently, feather-light, and Hannibal returns it while his hand cradles the back of your head

"Hopeless? Never... You were always meant to be caught. And I was always meant to be the one to do it."

Cassian squirms between you with a quiet, offended sound, clearly unimpressed and unpleased with the lack of attention he was receiving from his mother now, even despite his devious plan

Hannibal glances down at him, "Patience, Cassian... your mother is mine first."

He lifts Cassian from your arms and sets him gently on the floor, smoothing his hair once.

"Go find your sister. And refrain from further schemes for the day..." he adds calmly.

Cassian meets his father's gaze, then huffs and stalks away.

Hannibal watches him disappear before turning back to you, drawing you effortlessly into his arms once more. "He is just like me..." he muses, humoured. "A tragedy for us all."

"Tell me, love," he asks softly, eyes searching yours. "Do you regret it?"

You melt against him, amused warmth in your voice as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

"Regret bringing such a rotten gift into the world?" you hum. "How could I ever?"

"Rotten..." he repeats fondly. "Ungrateful. Manipulative. Brilliant. The best of both of us..."

"What was once yours and once mine..." you hum, smiling, "now united forever in something sweetly sick."

Hannibal exhales a low, pleased breath against your ear. "Perfectly so."

He tilts your chin up gently, gaze dark and adoring. "Would you have it any other way?"

“You can’t keep me back here.” You snarl at the cop. She’s picked you up for ‘public indecency,’ as you were about to get fucked outside of a gay bar. Your friend getting away after scurrying in the alley. 

You’d been in the back of her cop car, handcuffed for the rest of her long night shift. Now it was well past five a.m, and you were scared.

Whatever this cop had planned, you were sure it wasn’t badge-worthy.

Agnes proved you right as she pulled up to her gross, dingy house in the middle of nowhere.

“What the fuck is this?” You shout between the caged wall separating you two. You were not about to be at the end of whatever stupid horror movie you’d walked into.

“You know, you should be thanking me. Little t dick boy like yourself. I took you out of a bad situation, you could have gotten a disease or something!” The cop slut shames you, and you balk at her.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scream, and the cop grunts and rolls her eyes as she gets out of the car.

Opening the back car door, you go to jump at her, only to find her gun in your mouth before you can fight back.

“You can be a good boy or a rotten boy. Either way, you’re gonna do what I want. Got it?” Her tone leaves no arguing, and neither does the weapon. 

Agnes pushes the barrel of the gun past your teeth and onto your tongue.

“Say ‘Yes, Daddy.’” The cop ordered, and you grumbled with the metal in your mouth in response.

It appeased her enough.

“Good boy, now then. What’s with all this crap?” She scowls glancing at your attempt at a goth outfit for the club.

You don’t respond, and her disgust is clear.

“Get inside, take it off.” She grabs you back by the bath of your hair, and you fall to your knees as she just about drags you around the house to an old storm cellar. Like the ones in fucking ‘The Wizard of Oz’ or some shit.

She opens the door and throws you down into it.

Her own boots thumping as she walks down the steps and shuts the doors.

One light bulb in the room swings as she clicks it on.

You’re on a gross, dirty floor in some doomsday-like prepper's cellar. 

Agnes places the gun in the front of her work dickies and moves to the corner.

You're moving on your knees now, and that’s when you hear the metal spicket creak.

The water hits you so fast you splutter.

“Open your mouth, you dirty fucking whore. I bet you sucked cock in there too, didn’t you? Huh? A blowie in the bathroom for a few bucks?” Agnes adds and you try not to throw up as she hits you in the face with the force of the hose's spray.

You lie flat on your back and gasp as Agnes police officer's boot comes down on your crotch.

You shiver and cough up water.

“Take it off.” Officer O’Connor repeats, and you shiver from the cold but become obedient.

Lifting the shirt off, she can see what she’s working with.

“The dirty pants next.” Agnes adds, and lifts her boot as you shimmie out of the dirty short shorts and the jockstrap. 

You were naked, and Agnes kicked the wet wad of clothes aside like it was trash.

“Look at how hairy you are. What a fucky furry little boy.” Agnes says then steps on your thigh, pinning you.

You shiver with fear as water drips off you. 

Agnes thumbs the hose to get a stronger spray as she jets it onto your pussy.

You squirm u comfortable as the cop directs it onto your clit.

“You dirty boy, you like that, don’t you? You’re so disgusting. You like it when Daddy washes you? You think your little clit deserves my hand to wash it? No, not after you were out whoring yourself!” Agnes screams, and you’re sure you’ve gone to hell now.

“Get on your stomach, you filthy cunt slut.” Agnes tells you and you stare frozen up at her.

She takes out her gun and fires it into the corner and you almost pee yourself.

“DADDY SAID GET ON YOUR STOMACH? WHAT FAG YOU NEVER PLAY SIMON SAYS?” DADDY SAID ROLL OVER, BOY!” Agnes yells and you do it so fast.

You feel the pieces of sharp gravel cut your knees. 

“Good, now put your face is the mud, and your ass in the air.” Agnes adds and you hear metal, was it a buckle.

You make the wrong move, turning to see Agnes has…has a real dick. Not like the ones you put in your gym shirt.

And not like the gay guy who was going to fuck you outside. 

It was big and uncut, it was thick and veiny and already leaking.

Whatever officer O'Connor was into for play, you must have been giving her.

There was something even more fucked up as a trans person about to be violated by another. 

But as Agnes saw your dirty face looking up at her she kicked your ass check with her boot and you fell forward clumsily.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” The cop screamed at you and tears fell down your face.

“I-I’M SORRY OFFICER!” 

“You’re sorry? No baby boy, you’re sorry for whoring yourself out. But don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna clean you up and teach you what’s right.” Agnes says, calmer now, and you shudder as snot drips from your nose into the dirt. 

“I’ll-I’ll be good - please.” Your murmur and Agnes takes the hose and point it into your asshole. You yell and squirm away only for Agnes to get on the floor and wrestle you into submission. 

She alternated between water in your asshole and against your cunt.

The force of the water made you raw and swollen. 

It violated you in every way.

Even in the dirt and the water, you could smell Agnes' cock, the musty scent of her balls. Her sweat after wrestling with you in the dirt.

You cried and shivered and sat in your own dirty water on the cellar floor.

Until Agnes shut off the water, you stayed still, no fight in you.

“You don’t look like a boy anymore. No, you look like some sort of mutt I found in the woods. Is that what you are, baby? Not a boy, not with those nipples and that pink cunt. You’re a god damn bitch, a dog. Little stray in the mud, no one to pick you up. That’s it, I’m right aren’t I?” Agnes told you and you didn’t respond, just lay there limp.

“You choose what’ll it be, boy or bitch dog?” Agnes asked, and something about the way she was gripping her cock made you terrified of answering wrong.

You swallowed the dirty water and thought for a moment.

If this is how the cop treated boys, maybe you didn’t want to be one anymore.

Your bloody knees and raw holes.

“B-bitch dog.” You say into the mud.

Your dirty body, no longer your own.

Agnes grunts and fists her cock harder. 

“Prove it.” She said, and you sniffled, but something inside of you knew what was being asked.

“Come on bitch pup, prove to Daddy,” Agnes said through clenched teeth and you wanted to survive this, needed to.

You tried to leave your body as you hoisted your shoulders up, and stayed low, crawling forward.

Some primal part of you knew.

You crawled closer, and sat on your heels, right in front of Agnes' cock.

“Open, let me see that puppy tongue. You need your dinner, and want Daddy to give you some protein. Come on, puppy, show me you're hungry for thick meat.” 

Agnes slaps her cock against the outside of your cheek, it hits with a thud.  The skin on her shaft is pressing against the soft side of your cheek. You hadn’t grown facial hair yet. So Agnes' cock moved smoothly over your cheek, humiliating. 

Then she pushed her foreskin up and back, the tip dropping a dollop of cum creamy right on your tongue. 

Instantly salty, you whimpered, something about wanting this to be the way you had hoped your night would end didn’t make any of this easier. 

Agnes growled, and the semen slid with your saliva off your tongue like a waterslide onto the floor. 

Agnes slapped your face with her hand now, hard enough for you to lose your balance. 

“YOU WASTED IT!” Agnes growled, the dim light shining off of her badge, still wearing the top half of her uniform. 

Your bottom lip quivers as you wait for what punishment would be tolled out for such a disappointment. 

“D-Daddy I’m sorry.” You tried, and Agnes moved forward and you flinched back too slowly. 

Grabbing your ankle, she uses a strength only an active duty cop would possess to manhandle you. 

Your body slides against the wet mucky floor until your further into the darker corner. Handling you like a sack of potatoes. A thing.

You hiccup as you start to hyperventilate, seeing metal, you think this is the end. 

Only for Agnes to reach into the dark and open a drawer, a metal collar coming into view. A collar fit for a mangey mutt who couldn’t listen to basic directions. 

“N-No-No!” You cry out, and Agnes grabs your ankle harder and twists. 

“Nu-uh dogs bark. Be a good dog, come on slut, bark for Daddy. See if you’re too stupid to listen again, see what I do next.” Agnes warned and your whimpers turned into little animal noises. 

Agnes shook her head and you tried again. 

Making little yipping noises and then the cop laughed. 

“You really do need training, don’t you.” Agnes added, disappointed you couldn’t do anything right. 

Her cock slapped hard up against her uniform and you were sure even if you reached out and licked her balls - the officer wouldn’t stop her torture. 

“Woof-woof.” You barked but the tears were no longer invisible compared to the dripping wet water down your naked form. 

Agnes put a collar on you fit for a pound dog. 

It was tight and it cut into your neck, but it didn’t matter. 

The cop wasn’t done, and whatever cut the leather might have done into your skin would only further the reality that you were making a mess. A mess O’Connor would make you clean up. 

Her hand moved into an old workbench, yanking out a fluffy tail butt plug. 

You scrambled back but it was to no avail, Agnes grabbed your collar and tisked at you. 

Linking your collar to a heavy chains that connected deep into the dark cellar. Obviously your new home. 

“WOOF WOOF!” You yelled, and Agnes only laughed in delight as she flipped your body and spit between your ass cheeks as you bucked like a bronco. 

“You keep movin’-It’ll just hurt more,” Agnes adds, and another dribble of her seed leaks from her tip down onto your ass cheek. 

Proving she was having such a good night, finding a stray dog in an alley, in need of a good home. 

“BARK BARK BARK!” You scream as the bulb point of the anal plug moves against your tight hole. 

It’s dry, it’s forced, it hurts, and yet your pussy is coming alive in ways the stupid nightlife hadn’t come close to. 

“LOUDER PUPPY!” Agnes degraded with glee. The tail was rubber, black with a curl. 

It wasn’t big enough to do real damage, but boy, did she love how you were wiggling. 

Grabbing the chain connected to your collar, she yanked it hard down, and your neck jerked with it. 

“Puppy, you can do better than that! Daddy can’t reward such a pathetic boy in heat!” Agnes warned, and you cried and whimpered but kept making woofing noises. 

Your body was tired from fighting, slowed limply and your mouth dropped open as the plug moved to the thickest part through your anal ring. 

It ached and as if to make fun of you and the burn, the misery you were in. 

Agnes gave another loud spit that splat against your burning asshole. 

Lubricating it just a little, enough for your hole to clench the last bit out of reflex instead of arousal. 

Your hips jerk and the sound of your wet labia makes a squelching noise, and you want to die. 

“Puppy’s making a mess.” Agnes added, enjoying the humiliation. 

You turn to see she’s covered in dirt too now, as she stands up to enjoy the sight of you. The two of you look like mud wrestlers, it’s all over her uniform and face, she pushes it off her dick absantly as she stares at your tale. 

You fear how long she’ll keep you, and then the terrifying idea of what the officer would do once she was no longer interested. 

You have no more tears though, your legs burn, your asshole throbs. 

You have no more fight. 

“Wag your tail bitch boy.” Agnes tells you, the sound of her zipper as she peels off her uniform and sets it onto the cellar workbench.

Her tank top and sports bra peeled off last, you wonder where her workpants with that glock went. 

Would she forget about it, leave it in here with you?

Or would she put it in your pussy, make you ride the barrel while you licked her taint? 

You get a slap against your asscheek and you jump at the action. 

“Go on, wag your tail. I gave you a collar, a home, be grateful to Daddy. Wag that tail.” Agnes says and you look over your shoulder to where your chest and stomach is still in the wet mud. It’s caking onto your body and your scared the damn hose will come back out. 

Agnes slaps your other cheek this time, furious at your lack of response. 

Her knees come back to the floor and she spanks you over and over and over. 

You try to bark but it just comes out as sharp intake of breath and dry sob. 

Agnes is raising her big hand over her shoulder with momentum as it slams down on your ass cheeks. 

You lose balance and your nose goes into the mud and you splutter and choke on the dirt in your mouth. 

“PUPPY WAG YOUR GOD DAMN TAIL OR ELSE!” Agnes says through clenched teeth and you stick your ass higher and she stops to see you - yes. 

Shaking your butt back and forth only to early a harsh slap to your cunt.

It’s already so sore that you shiver from the sensation. 

“Use your asshole stupid dog, come on.” Agnes adds and you understand, you clench your sore ass the best you can only to hear your first words of praise. 

“That’s it, that wasn’t so hard puppy. There you go, keep it up.” Agnes adds and you hear skin slapping, the cops breathing changes. 

“Don’t-waste it this-timeee.” Agnes grunts harshly and you feel warm splat on your labia, sticking in your pubic hair but not going inside. 

Uh-oh. 

“Fucking mutt!” Agnes yells and stands up, pushing her dirty hair up her forehead. 

You’d failed again, on purpose from your Daddy naturally. How were you meant to catch all her seed when she’d just marked you, not even going inside. 

But…did you -did you want her to?

You made whimpering doggie sounds, crying dog noises. 

You realized you hadn’t even been deemed worthy of her cock, and so you raised your ass and wagged your tail. 

“BAD DOG!, YOU DIRTY FUCKING THING!” Agnes yelled at you louder than another human had ever done. 

She stood grabbing her clotches and gun and your eyes doubled in size, she stretched up to the light bulb. 

“Sit in here and think about what a bad dog you are, and maybe if you behave I’ll feed you more protein, fucking whore.” Then she clicked the light out and stomped up the steps, you saw the outside for one more second before the cellar doors shut. 

And then you were left in the dark, in mud, in cum, with a heavy collar and chain.

Your ass still in the air caked in the cops fluids. 

Your tail still up curled, as you cleneched and waged it back and forth. 

Desperate to be a good dog. 

You hadn't intended to access it. At least that's what you told yourself when you'd found it. You had simply hacked into Northland's mainframe and were taking a look around. It was your hope that you could mine out some useful information that you could sell on the black market. Bank records weren't anything of real value, they were a dime a dozen on the open market. You could care less about those. It was general knowledge, at least amongst your circle of comrades, that Northland was little more than a cover for the Fauti's less than scrupulous practices. Meaning if you could find any information on the organization's plans or movements, you would hit the proverbial gold mine. 

When you had discovered the server all the way at the bottom of a nested list, you already had enough information to get you through the next few months. You should have left it alone. But your curiosity got the better of you. The higher security protocols triggered your interest in a way that the standard Northland servers hadn't. This singular server was a puzzle to you and you being you, viewed the stricter restrictions as a challenge. This server's security wasn't a standard system that could be easily overridden. You quickly discovered that the protections around the server were custom made. Meaning its owner had intended for it to be fool proof when it came to keeping any unwanted individuals out. That thought only intrigued you more. What could be so precious that this level of security was required? Was it weapons codes or plans for world domination? Surely whatever was there would be profitable enough that you would never have to work again, right?

After days of trying, to the point that you were nearly exhausted, you finally got in. It had taken a monumental amount of research on your part to figure out a way around the complex coding. What you discovered was well worth your efforts. On a server for one was a treasure trove of videos. All of them private, all of them explicit. You could hardly believe it.  

You should have just left well enough alone after that. The knowledge that you could watch the Regrator get off in some of weirdest ways possible should have been enough. Even in your greed, you should have grabbed some of the more disgusting videos and sold them for a large profit. The funds would be more than enough for you to evade the harbinger’s wrath and start a new life elsewhere. Most importantly, after you had accessed the server, you should have checked for additional security measures; namely tracking. If you had, you would have realized that the access records were being monitored. You would have known your IP address and location had been captured. You would have realized that your fate, at least where the Regrator was concerned, was already sealed. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, in your own depravity, you had set an alert to be notified of any updates to the server so you could see what perversion he indulged in next. 

Pantalone knew the second the server was breached. He was in the middle of a meeting when he received the notification. It was only by the grace of the heavens that he managed to keep himself contained. Security breaches weren’t an uncommon thing. Northland was a common target for hackers and resistance fighters alike. It was why he laced lies and false plans throughout the servers. Pantalone had more than enough data on what they were looking for. All he needed to do was place it in specific areas so they wouldn’t have cause to go deeper. Not many people were inclined to keep digging after they’d already found the treasure. You were obviously the exception. That told him you were either abnormally greedy or you didn’t know what was good for you. It didn’t matter to him. You had made yourself a target. The question was how best to deal with you? Finding you would be simple. His tracking software would see to that. Pantalone only needed to assess the damage to determine whether he needed to act now or if the matter would keep until his afternoon tea.

After the meeting’s sudden adjournment, in the privacy of the now empty space, the analytics gave him surprisingly good news. Nothing had been taken. You had breached the security, but you hadn’t stolen anything. In fact, all you had done was browsed his videos like it was your going through your own personal library. He supposed for now it wasn’t that bad.Clearly you’d been snooping and that was all. The matter could be fixed with additional security to stop you from coming back. If word of the videos got out, it was something he could easily deny. From his end of things, you had no proof. Even if you’d taken screen captures, you still risked exposing yourself and your less than legal activities. You would have to publicly admit you had committed a crime. If you did, then it was nothing to him to silence you for good. After all, any number of nasty accidents could be arranged and none of them would be traceable to him. All he could do now was wait and see.

It took you a few days to go back and try again. After your first encounter with videos, you’d set the notification and promptly walked away. You’d told yourself the notification was enough. You didn’t need to go back unless he posted something new. The image of him looking so vulnerable though. Of him gasping and moaning and whimpering as he ran his hands over himself was a tough one to forget. Despite everything that made him terrifying, beneath it all, the weakness he willingly put on display was utterly alluring. You knew the videos were for his eyes only. That the exposed nature of them was for him to enjoy. But you couldn’t help but allow your mind to wander back to them. God he had looked so pathetic. Pantalone always projected an image of strength to the public. To see him so weak and needy was addictive. Your own desire to see him make an absolute mess of himself demanded it. Which was why, despite your better judgement, you found your way back into Northland’s systems. 

The additional security should have been a red flag. You hadn’t sold what you’d taken a few days earlier, meaning that there was only one reason for the additional firewalls; your visit to the private server had been discovered. Your own need to peer back into Pantalone’s private world dismissed the additional security as little more than red tape. The bank had instituted a new security policy or something like that. Breaches were common, so it’s likely they were attempting to dissuade smaller hackers with new measures. For you though, they weren’t anything. Not after you had figured out how his security worked. You bypassed them easily enough, quickly tunneling down into the treasure trove that rested at the end. 

This went on for weeks. You tried not to make it a daily thing as that felt excessive, but every time he posted a new video, which was becoming more frequent, you found yourself going there right away. The temptation to see his latest perversion was simply too great, especially since watching him had helped bring you to some of the best orgasms of your life. At this stage, at least in the back of your mind, you felt he had to know. Different aspects of his videos had changed. It was nothing dramatic, but you had noticed slightly improved lighting, better camera angles, and above all, the mumbled utterances of are you enjoying this as he got himself off. It was hard to believe he enjoyed being watched when he was like this. His image was always so controlled. As you sat in a post orgasmic bliss after his latest video, you wondered if he was doing just that? Was he tailoring this image of himself specifically for you, based on what you enjoyed? You scoffed at the possibility. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know, right? 

As you thought about it over the next day or so, you swore to yourself that you’d been careful. You hadn’t given him a way to know you had been there or at the very least you appeased yourself with the idea that he couldn’t find you. You had cracked his security protocol enough that the normal alarms wouldn’t trigger. On his side, you should have looked like a regular user and nothing more. Even if he had figured out specific videos were being watched without his consent, he wouldn’t go so far as to bait you, would he? 

Your answer came in the form of another video, one where he explicitly used your name. 

The second it passed his lips your entire body went cold. All you could do was blankly stare at the screen as he sat there in all his magnificence, looking utterly proud of himself. For a moment you thought you’d misheard it. He hadn’t said your name, he didn’t know it. Again, you swore to yourself that you had been careful. He couldn’t know anything about you. Then, as if on que, he said it again. This time, with a smirk so sinister you leapt up from your chair just to get away from it. God he knew. Oh fuck, he knew. You immediately went to close the screen, your arousal long forgotten due to the reality that was now seeping in. The Regrator knew what you had been up to. He likely had known for weeks now. It explained the changes and tweaks made to the content. It explained his utterances and questions as he stroked himself. He was imagining you watching him. That fact sent a chill down your spin. He shouldn’t know you exist. Yet he did and worse than that, he was getting off on the fact that you watched him. 

Your hand was on the button. You were seconds away from closing the window when his melodic voice washed over you again. “Before you close this darling. Just know, this one tells me how far you got.” As your eyes drifted over to the screen, you saw a shudder ripple its way through his body. On top of everything, the bastard had the nerve to be close. “End the fun too soon and there may be-” He gasped as he ran his fingers over the tip of his cock. “Consequences.” You swallowed, not daring to imagine what those might be. He had your name, which meant he knew how to find you. Even if you tried to run, you wouldn’t get far. Your funds might get you to somewhere like Nod Krai, but you wouldn’t have enough to pay the guilds for their silence. It wasn’t like you were well equipped to survive out in the wild either. To stand a chance of making it there or really anywhere, you would have to take a job in the city. That meant a proper address tied to your name. All it would take was for Pantalone to get a hold of your paperwork. After that, you were a sitting duck.

From the screen, he smiled at you again, moaning your name as his movements grew more erratic. He was going to cum. As you stood there and shook in fear, he was going to have the nerve to cum. “Fair’s fair-” He groaned out another darling. “You obviously enjoy watching me.” He paused long enough to get the rest of the sentence out. “It’s only right I should get to see you.” Your stomach collapsed to the point that you felt like you were going to be ill. He wasn’t serious. “You’ve…” He groaned in satisfaction as he teased the tip of his cock with his fingers. “Definitely caught my attention dearest.” Pantalone tightened his grip slightly, his hips jerking and stuttering as his movements grew messier. He was getting close now. You could see it in the way he furrowed his brow. The regrator was desperate to hold on, but you knew him well enough to know that wouldn’t be the case. The second he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, it was over. In what you would consider a truly glorious display, Pantalone came moaning your name. 

“You-” His voice was heady with lust as he came down from his orgasm; pleasure and satisfaction dripping from every single word. It was as annoying as it was alluring. You had just watched the regrator get off to you or at least the idea of what he was going to do to you. Despite everything you were feeling in the moment, you couldn’t help but be a little flattered. “Have 24 hours to respond. I won’t bother with access rights. If you’re clever enough to get through my security, then I’m sure you're clever enough to figure out how to get a video of your own onto this server.” You gapped at that your temporary sense of pride long forgotten. Not only did the bastard want payback, but he was going to set you up for failure to get it? It had taken you days to understand how the server worked. Even then you’d only barely gotten into it with read-only access. Now he expected you to update your permissions, on your own? In less than 24 hours? He had to be insane. “I do hope you’ll give me a good show. After all, I’ve made quite the effort for you. The least you can do is return the favor.” The pause after that overtook everything. Your spinning mind automatically went into overdrive. What were you supposed to do? What could you do? You had hacked your way into the private server of one of the most powerful men in Sneznaya and stolen from his public servers. That alone was enough to earn you a ticket to jail. Then, with his full knowledge, but not his consent, you had been pleasuring yourself to him for weeks. Now, he was demanding compensation in the most humiliating way possible. He couldn’t actually expect you to film yourself, could he? At least not in the same method he did for himself. Surely he was joking. He had to be. “If I don’t see anything from you as of the time you started this little video then I’ll take that as an invitation to see you in person so that we might experience this little delight together. It has been ages since I’ve had anyone fun here.” Your legs automatically gave out. You fumbled your way back into your chair, tears forming in your eyes as reality finished setting in. He was going to make you do it. Come hell or high water, the Regrator would get his way with you. The question was, could you get the video on the server in time or would it be easier to sort this out in person? Despite your lack of funds, could you try to get to another border or at least out on the open sea? Could you swing that before your time ran out? “Before you think I can’t find you, or you believe you can get away, just know I have spies close by watching your every move. If they catch you trying to run, then we’ll meet each other much sooner than expected.” Of course he already had people on you. He’d probably sent them as soon as he’d begun this sick little game with you. “I’m eager to see how you’ll respond dearest.” Your eyes came back up to the screen before you realized they’d fallen away. The sinister smile he’d held the whole time mocked you from the other side of the screen. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long. It ruins the fun.” With one last laugh, the video ended. Leaving you in complete darkness. 

What now? Was it worth your time to meet his challenge? Did you really believe you could get the necessary access rights in time or would your time be better served trying something else? You thought about trying to find his spies. There couldn’t be that many, could there? Maybe you could take what you had and buy them off. Maybe you could try to use force as a means of escape. Even if you managed it, there was still the matter of trying to get away. The cities were warmed to make them habitable. But in the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya, you doubted you would make it a mile before you froze. Were those your choices? Comply or die? Was that all he had left you with? You let out a broken sob at the thought. 

With tear filled eyes, you looked back at the dark screens. He’d insisted you shouldn’t disappoint him. You knew that applied to your actions as much as your video. If you forced him to wait for nothing, you knew the consequences would become more severe. Right now he had given you a choice. He’d only asked for one video. If you didn’t acquiesce to his request then one could turn into an infinite number with a snap of his fingers. Worse still, he could find you and he could demand that you give him what he wanted in person. If those were your only options, then you preferred to keep him as far away as humanly possible. 

With shaking hands, you reached for the keyboard and mouse, closing his video. You had to try, didn’t you? Even if you hated it, even if you failed, you still had to make an effort. Because even the smallest effort might be what stayed his hand. At least, you hoped it did. In all honesty, nothing actually would. Even if by some miracle you managed to meet his deadline, that only opened the door to additional demands. More videos, tougher challenges, and tighter timelines. Because that was the real payoff for him, wasn’t it? The show he wanted wasn’t the video, it was the challenge in getting the video to him. Pantalone wanted to be impressed to the point that he had demanded it. The price of his individual attention was that you show him how capable you really were. He wanted to see if your meddling was a fluke or if you were as competent as you had shown yourself to be. If that was the case, then you decided you would rise to the occasion. As the terror of the situation settled into anxiety, you decided he didn’t matter. You would do what he wanted, but you wouldn’t do it for him, you would do it for yourself. You would prove that you could beat him at his own game, even if you had to humiliate yourself to win.