💋❤️🖤Trials & Temptations🖤❤️💋

The most normal mark. A stick and poke style tattoo of a heart on her chest. It’s a little trippy and wavy due to the copious amount of hallucinogenic gases that Pusher has inhaled. He is careful not to truly hurt her when he gives it to her. He gives her some of his personal gas stash so she doesn’t wriggle too much. Thankfully his personal gas doesn’t make her see the skinner man. As it has been optimized for both of their pleasure over usage against reagents in the trials.

Pitcher

Rather easy to guess that he likes to use his beloved fire on their precious Pup. On her right thigh he uses the metal mouthpiece of his mask after it heats up from his breathing fire. He burns a heart out of interconnecting circles like disturbing kisses over soft flesh. His strong hands and holding her still. He did it one section at a time to be able to be sure it’s perfect. The hardest part was the bottom of the heart. Growling in appreciation at the sight of her blistering flesh. And always tracing the scars left there.

Night Hunter

So they did their best to be gentle in moments after they barely had the capacity to be. It was an unconscious decision within each of them truly. She was theirs. And they wanted to keep her.

Tonight inside the Night Hunter’s pitch black sleeping quarters her head rested on his bony shoulder like it was a comfortable pillow. He had just spent their evening with him leaving bites and cuts along her sensitive flesh before they enjoyed each other to orgasm. Now he held her like he hadn’t just used her body so harshly.

It was oddly nice. And allowed her mind to calm down and wander a bit.

She sighed softly before letting out a soft giggle.

“What’s funny, Puppy?” He asked tracing his fingers along her shoulder.

“Nothing just…it’s silly…” she murmured.

“I don’t mind silly,” he replied, coaxing her to be honest.

In these moments it was oddly easy to forget just who and what he was. In these private moments in the dark he was just a man. One of her men.

“You know…before all this…I was always afraid of the dark…” she admitted.

“Was?” He asked her, his native German slipping from his tongue.

“Yeah,” she laughed, “Even when I was brought here…I was scared…I probably still am…”

He chuckled at how silly that did sound. Considering everything she must have been through with the trials. And where she was right now. And as though she was able to read his mind just like she was able to tell what Pitcher was thinking at any given moment. It was a skill they all appreciated.

“Not now…not…with you…” she admitted.

“What’s so different about being with me if you’re so scared of the dark?” He asked.

“Because with you…you are the scary thing in the dark and…you don’t wanna hurt me…well…not entirely…”’she could still feel the welcome sting of his blade from moments ago, “I guess I know nothing else in the dark can hurt me because you’d cut them to ribbons if they tried.”

That made him laugh a deep, real laugh, because it was true. She was a marvel, truly.

“What a wonder you are Glow Worm,” he chuckled and pressed his teeth to her temple in an attempt at a kiss.

The tender action made her cheek flush so bright she was certain he would be able to see with his night vision goggles if he looked. These moments of affection always struck her as ridiculous in a way. His body was modified to amplify his blood lust. And not to mention the things done to Pusher and Pitcher, her other lovers…owners…whatever she could consider them.

Even if they were shockingly out of place for what they all were. They were welcome.

“As long as it’s you…or Pusher…or Pitcher in the dark…I’m not scared of it…” she said, “Sappy or silly as that sounds…it’s the truth.”

No more words were spoken and they both soon drifted off to sleep in the dark. Her feeling safe enough to endure the dark all night with him beside her.

By far the most vocal and vulgar of the three.

“Bitch” and “Slut” used in a strange affection.

In sexual moments he is often apt to refer to both her vagina and her as a “Cunt”.

Often he says these in a possessive way.

“My Bitch”, “My Slut”, “My Cunt”

There are some sweeter names or terms of endearment he likes to use for his Puppy.

That being the common thread amongst himself and the others.

“Puppy”, “Pup”, “Bitch” (like the female dog not the insult to female humans)

He will call her his “New High” or “New Drug”

As well as the common “Gorgeous”, “Doll”, “Sexy”

If he is in a very particular mood he might call her

“Nurse”

And of course the possessive “My”’is added to these as well.

He more often than not is high as hell and sometimes his names for her run together in some strange amalgamation of affection and degradation.

Pitcher

It was hard to tell at first what kinds of pet names or terms he likes most.

But it’s easy for Puppy to figure out with her keen ear for the tones and pitch of his vocalizations.

And for the way his touch changes with the terms.

The typical ones like “Baby” or “Honey” are easy go tos.

He likes being called “Fire Bug”, a term he has for her in his mind.

“Hot Stuff” is cheesy but he seems to enjoy it the most.

Like Pusher “Daddy” can get him going in ways he never expected.

He discovered that when Puppy slipped up once when he had her to himself.

It is widely known Pitcher can’t truly speak.

The years of inhaling gasoline and the fumes of fire having wrecked his throat beyond repair.

He can still write.

He just doesn’t do it often.

Unless there is something a scream, grunt, or growl can’t communicate.

When writing a note to her he of course calls her “Puppy” or “Pup”

But he has some other pet names he likes to use.

“Fire Bug”, “Sparkler”, “My Bonfire”

Names that equate her with his delirious obsession with flames.

Sometimes he just calls her “Sexy”’on these notes so she knows what kind of mood he’s in.

He does have a specific cry he lets out when he sees her or is calling out to her.

Only herself and the other two specialists he shares her with seem to be able to tell the difference.

It started in the trials when he saw her he would let it out to both alert her that he was near.

And inform the others (if they were in the trial as well) that she was there so they could all get a peek and a feel at their favorite reagent.

Night Hunter

He loves to be called “Darling” “Baby” any of the typical terms of endearment.

Though the true way to his heart romantically is using German pet names.

“Mein Liebe” (my love) or “Shatze” (Darling or Sweetheart)

Hearing his perfect Puppy using his mother tongue truly hits him in all the right ways.

Sexually he loves to be referred to as “Sir” or “My Stalker” depending on how kinky he’s feeling.

Like the others “Daddy” slipped once from Puppy’s lips and now he loves it.

Oh the names this nocturnal maniac has for his Puppy.

Of course like the others “Puppy” and “Pup” are the most common.

Though he does like to call her the German word for puppy as well.

“Wélpe.”

He also likes to call her softer terms like “My Moonlight” or “Glow Worm”

Of course he isn’t exempt from calling her a “Whore” or a “Dirty Bitch” if he’s in a mood.

He is more often than not seductive with his terms.

Wanting to lure her into the dark.

His darkest term for her is “My Canvas” as he truly loves to leave wounds from either his machete or other knives on her.

Carving simple pictures or words into her flesh.

Most disappear, leaving no true scars, but some, stay due to his desire for them too.

Since he can only see her in the dark he makes sure that her night vision goggles are always charged so she can see him as well.

Hating the idea of her being at a disadvantage…when he doesn’t want her to be.

“MyFavorite Mouth” or “My Hot Pussy”.

Along with the typical “Slut”, “Whore”, “Bitch”,

often in a possessive way.

“My slut.” “My whore.” “My Bitch”

But on the rare occasion when he’s not being vulgar, he likes to call her “Sweetness”, “Sweetheart”, or “Honey”

When it comes to what he wants to be called.

“Daddy”, “Officer”, “Sergeant”, “Sir”

Any one of these will do.

Some get better reactions than others and it’s hard to tell which fits for the moment.

But of course their Sweet One seems to be able to tell more often than not.

Gooseberry

The ones she uses are rather simple, but nonetheless loving more often than not

“My Darling”, “My Dear”, “My Favorite”

Often referring to her as her “Gossling” to others.

Dr. Futterman isn’t so kind with what he calls her to Mother Gooseberry (and sometimes Sweet One herself)

“Brat” is the tamest he uses

“Bitch”, “Slut”, “Useless”

Of course Mother Gooseberry does her best to argue with him in defense of her Precious Gosling.

What she wants to be called is also simple and loving.

“Mother”, “Ma’am”, “My Sweet”

Depending on how obedient she needs her Sweet One to be.

(Of course it’s best to refer to Dr. Futterman as “Doctor” if prompted to speak to the puppet)

Franco

Where to begin with his pet names.

Both vulgar and strangely reverent.

“Whore” and “Slut” used when he is in a bad mood.

“Sugar” on its own is his preferred sweet name.

Though he does often add it into more dirty pet names.

“Sugar Lips” or “Sugar Tits” the most common

And of course…

He calls her “Mommy”

That is the most common.

Used both sexually, casually, reverently, and insultingly. Depending on his mood.

She’s his “Mommy” and she better get used to it.

As for what he wants to be called?

Isn’t it obvious

“Baby” or “My Baby”

“Sir” if he’s feeling particularly dominant and upset.

If she is feeling particularly bold she uses Italian.

“Mi Bambino”

This usually calms him down when he is having a particularly bad melt down.

Or gets him worked up in another way.

Used with caution.

The Kress Twins

They each have their preferences but both will reply to “My Loves”.

Otto prefers to be called things that revere him.

“Handsome”, “Sir”, “My Love”

Appeal to his ego and he will melt.

And always be certain to compliment Aurora even more than you do him.

Loving Aurora is the way to his heart.

Aurora also wants to be revered.

But in a more romantic way more often than not.

Do not call her Ma’am or Miss with affection. She is a Lady and wants to be referred to sweetly.

“Beautiful.” “Darling.” “My Love”

A different kind of ego to appeal to.

But like her brother, compliment him as often as possible to endear oneself more to her.

Loving Otto is the way to her heart.

They also each have their own names for her of course.

Otto likes to use tender tarmac which inspire submission.

“Little One”, “My Sweet.”, “Darling.”

Aurora is similar, and very complementary.

“Precious One”, “My Pet.” “Dear.”

They both refer to her as “My Love” and every pet name seems to be interchangeable between the two at times.

Lilya

Treat her with true reverence and worship and you will have her heart.

Her favorites are simple but sweet.

“My Love” and “My Angel”

She wants what she is referred to to be both devout and tender.

“Beautiful”, “Lovely”, “Desire”

She does love it when her Sweet One attempts loving pet names in Russian after being taught them.

She likes to teach her Russian terms of endearment.

Especially the ones that she calls her.

Often using the same names in both English and Russian and wants her Sweet One to be able to both understand and use them.

As for what she calls her Sweet One.

The names are tender and sharing in reverence.

Approving and accepting of the devotion.

“Beloved”, “My Jewel”, “My Favorite”

She wants to make it known just how much she does care for her precious follower.

She is the most overtly loving with her words.

It always struck her at the difference in how the Prime Assets were treated compared to the Reagents. Their quarters were larger and more temperature controlled. Not to mention the amenities they were granted.

She supposed it was due to the role they played. They were more useful than the Reagents. They weren’t replaceable. So keeping them comfortable and compliant was a higher priority.

And now…she was granted similar treatment as their…she didn’t know what to call herself.

But there was no time to dwell on that. Not when she could hear why Franco was upset. His voice was thick with a nasal tone as he called out that he was fine. He very much wasn’t. Especially when his words were cut off with a coughing fit.

Walking over with careful confidence the young woman gifted to him and the others got a good look at him. She could see the flush of a fever on his cheeks and how his face was swollen in ways it wasn’t usually.

“Something tells me you’re lying about being fine, Baby,” she murmured, her natural desire to take care of him no longer surprising her, she’d been with the Prime Assets long enough.

The way his eyes shimmered when she called him that was honestly nice to see. She smiled softly at him and sat on the edge of his bed.

She reached over and gently set the back of her hand against his forehead, “You’re burning up,” she said with a frown.

To think she once ran terrified of him and now the thought of him being sick hurt her heart. Maybe she was too soft. Or maybe this next chapter of her residency here had truly changed the way she functioned. Her base instincts were now to take care of the Prime Assets in every way they needed.

“I think you’ve got a cold,” she said.

He let out a muffled groan. She needed to get him some medicine but when she tried to get up his arms were quick to wrap around her as he adjusted to try and lay on her thighs.

“Don’t leave me, Mommy,” he groaned.

“You need to take some medicine and then you can nap on me, promise,” she assured him.

She didn’t think sternness was needed. More like bargaining. He relented after a moment and she got up and hurried to find one of the doctors to get some cold medicine. Thankfully they didn’t argue with her. It just meant they didn’t have to deal with him.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Mother Gooseberry asked as she walked by, seeing the determination and worry on her face as she held a bottle of medicine now.

“Oh, it’s nothing too serious, Franco’s got a head cold, I managed to convince him to take medicine,” she said kindly, “By promising to be his pillow for a little bit.”

“What a fucking head to get a cold in, gotta be a massive cold,” she heard a voice from behind her say.

She did her best to not let Coyle see her roll her eyes at his statement but she could bet he see her shoulders move with her sigh. He was acting like he wasn’t a bigger baby when he got sick. Which he would of course deny. She turned to look at him with a pouting look. Submissive but disapproving, just how she knew she needed to act with him.

“It’s just a cold, but he feels bad and I promised to take care of him, just like I did for you a few months ago,” she said.

“Didn’t need your fussin,” he grumbled.

“But you enjoyed it,” she said with a smile.

She bid the two other Prime Assets she was speaking to goodbye before hurrying back to Franco. Squealing softly as Coyle smacked her ass when she walked by for her smart mouth. Even when playful he wasn’t gentle and she found herself rubbing her butt to soothe it before she walked into Franco’s room again. Pausing once more to grab a book from her own (smaller) room since she could bet her afternoon would be occupied with a Napping Franco on her lap.

He was sitting up and looked worse for wear. She smiled sweetly at him, having to walk the line between being mothering and not condescending.

She set the bottle of cold medicine on his nightstand before opening it and he made a face at the smell. “I know it’s bound to be awful,” she said sweetly, “But it will make you feel better.”

He pouted for a moment until she put a hand on her hip. Giving him a slightly pleading but stern look.

“If you take your medicine like a good boy it means we can cuddle sooner,” she cooed.

She knew exactly what he wanted to hear, how to get him to agree to what she needed him to. He still pouted before agreeing.

She made sure she had some water as well before pouring him a dose of the meds in a spoon. Like how you gave a child their medicine. He could take pills like the others. But he wouldn’t. She knew as much and so did the doctors.

“Open for me,” she cooed again, leaning forward just enough to accentuate her breasts in the simple blouse she wore.

He did so, jaw slightly slack when she popped a button with her other hand. Was it manipulative? Perhaps. But if it made this easier she would do it.

She was gentle as she fed him his medicine. He grimaced at the taste. She could bet it was awful. Murkoff would not be the type of company to make nice tasting cold medicine. She brought his cup of water up to his mouth.

“Get that taste out,” she said.

He was more than eager to drink the water. Something that he wasn’t usually. He must really feel bad.

“Good boy,” she purred softly and cupped his cheek before leaning in to kiss his forehead, he let out a sound of disappointment, “You need to rest and get better, cause you don’t want to give Mommy your cold, do you?”

“No,” he admitted.

He was quick to make room in the bed when she closed the bottle of medicine. She laughed softly before climbing in beside him. Allowing him to maneuver her into the position he wanted. His bed resting on her soft stomach, her breasts resting on top of his head as he did so.

She supposed the slight pressure must feel nice with a sinus headache. She knew how much a firm pillow over her eyes helped when she had one. Her breasts were probably the perfect weight for him. Plus…he loved them. His arms wound around her as he cuddled her lower body like a teddy bear.

She rubbed his back and hummed softly as he began to drift off. Comforted and medicated.

She didn’t mind the idea of spending her afternoon as his pillow if it made him feel better. Maybe she was soft with him. Softer than she was with Coyle. But then again, Franco responded to it better than he did.

And maybe she was a little sweet on the mobster.

He made her laugh.