💟—Desperate—💟
part one
nsfw
TW: noncon, dubcon, abuse, yandere
contains: kidnapping, blood, injuries, fingering, human pet, humiliation
reader is gender neutral
It’s cold. Colder than the gray cement floor. Colder still than Ramattra’s metal plating and what scarce heat reflected from its surface.
Outside, in some distant world, the sun warmed all it touched. But that was stolen from you. He tossed into this barren room, only being taken out to “play”. An activity that involved anything but fun for you. Ramattra’s idea of play meant whatever satisfied his sadistic flavor of the week, any enjoyment you might derive being nothing short of error.
You had stopped trying to count the minutes, lost track of the days without the sun. Wherever your family way, you only prayed that they escaped the clutches of his forces, found refuge in some other city. It was the only hope you had, however foolish. There was no energy left in you to contemplate whether death was a worse fate than being reduced to whatever you had been made to be.
A streak of white light swallowed the room. Repulsed, you shielded yourself, chains shuffling as you moved. Two voices spoke, Rammatra’s robotic hum and another you can scarcely recognize.
“My,” an omnic voice chided, “What a mess you’ve made. A remarkable visage spoiled by your folly.”
“Shut up and take your reward,” Rammatra spoke, turning away. You adjusted to the light and recognized the other voice as soon as you matched its face. The other omnic that found you that day. The day you were kidnapped. Sleek as you remembered him, in polished steel and a well-tailored suit.
“Not so fast,” his gaze fixed on you, but not in address, “I have something more in mind.”
“I said,” you flinched as his voice darkened, a sound you had heard at your most vulnerable, “Take your reward. Before I stop feeling so generous.”
“Have some sense. You’ve no mastery in handling delicate things, and what a precious creature you’ve caught. You’d be a fool to let this one go to waste,” he walked towards your withered body.
“What harm is there to wasting it?”
You couldn’t help the desperate sobs that erupted through your slitted eyes, praying someone could save you from this hell. Almost as if to answer you, the other omnic bent on his knee and raised to hand to cup your cheek.
“Don’t fret, dear. I have ways to make your master soften. Just follow my lead, won’t you?”
You kept your gaze low and nodded shallowly.
“No doubt you’ve fallen for their charms - if your frequent visits to your quarters are any accurate measure. You don’t mean such harsh words.”
“Please,” he scoffed, “I am not nearly as weak as you. Humans bring me no pleasure.”
“And yet,” the omnic hummed, “You keep them displayed like this. What a sight, indeed. Turn over, pet, let me see what your master has done to you.”
Despite your shame, you fulfilled his command, lifting your head and displaying your back to the two omnics. You hear gears turn in an amused purr as his hands examined your recently used body.
“I want no part in this, Maximilien. I had no intent to lead you here, but you have earned it. So do as you please and then take your leave.”
The smaller omnic - Maximilien - continued to lap around you. He leaning down and whispered in your ear, “Let me show you how much more skilled I am than your little master.”
You knit your brows tight enough to make your head ache and your stomach tensed. You had endured too many nights at Rammatra’s mercy, so much trauma that left you bloody and sore. Hours each day spent on your back, poked and squeezed until his marks colored your flesh a deep purple. A toy to spend his idle time when he needed to relieve himself. And now he was giving you to his friend.
He seemed already fascinated by the bruises on your body. You can imagine why - the smooth tips of his fingers grazing your tender skin, only to stab at your your nerves just to hear you scream. If he was anything like Ramattra, maybe. What other tortures men like them enjoy, you didn’t want to think about. You would be witness to them soon enough.
A large, unmistakable clawed hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away.
“A dangerous taunt from such a small creature,” how surprising it was to hear someone with such a passion for his own people to spit an insult with the same venom you had heard in your own little town.
“What keen ears you have, dear brother,” Maximilien hummed, “I had hoped you’d have other matters to attend to. Surely more important than this pet of yours.”
He pulled you closer with a strength you feared might severe your arm right then and there. And yet you leaned into him, somehow finding some comfort in his protection. Even if it wasn’t as intended for you as you would’ve liked to think.
Faint light shone white on Maximilien’s polished loafers, rolling like a pebble with each step he took. Ramattra released you, his shadow shrouding you in darkness. The smaller omnic kneeled, sharp eyes on yours. They burned like flames sunken in his face and fueled your fear.
But his touch was gentle, delicate fingers grazing your skin. Your breath jumped, skin rose in bumps as his fingers tips traced your shape. He cupped your chin and lowered his gaze. Your chest tightened, metal digit resting on your lip. He pushed further and your body responded before you could choke on the moans that left from your lips. His blazing eyes soften.
“Beautiful.”
Ramattra’s hand cupped underneath your chin, lifting your head high and you met the gaze of the same stoic face you learned to fear. He reveled in contorting your body in awkward positions. Maximilien tutted in disapproval, “Why don’t we show your master what a lovely pet you can be?”
Your eyes were wet and you fluttered away heavy tears. He must’ve taken that as a sign of approval, running a hand over you back as he returned to examine between your legs. Rammatra knelt. All the hours spent at his disposal kept you alert in his presence, like the primal instinct of prey when being stalked by predator. All too exposed to the two of them, you yelped when you felt Maximilien’s noticeably smaller hand creep up the length of your thigh.
“Don’t be afraid, dear one,” he cooed, “You’ll be getting very comfortable with me very soon.”
You hushed the urge to cry, swallowing a hiccup, and let him continue massaging your inner thigh, touching closer and close to your most sensitive appendage. His hand cupped the swell of your ass, kneading soft moans out of you. The motions teased you most sensitive parts and numbed your mind at the pleasure. He laughed and shook the meat of your thighs in small, rapid movements that sent vibrated the fat of your lower body. You arched your back, missing the pressure between your legs and Maximilien met your plea with a finger lightly dipping into you but not enough to satisfy.
“So good for me, such a good toy you are.”
You turned frantic at the praise, like a starved man at a feast, moaning and presenting your aching body to him. Eager for his touch. He laughed again. Music, ecstasy. You could beg if you knew the words.
His fingers sunk into you, reliving the pain from more uninvited encounters. But the entry was much more bearable when his fingers expertly indulged that spot between your legs. You could find sweet pleasure past all the pain. And you let yourself go, moaning salaciously as your mind went blank with desire. Maximilien played you like a puppet, curling his finger inside you and hitting spots so precisely you become putty in his hands.
“More,” Ramattra’s deep voice killed you moans and stiffened your body.
“Not yet,” Maximilien focused, no longer playful, “This is a careful process.”
Maximilien’s nimble touch was forced out of you, leaving you exposed as your sensitive body met with Ramattra’s own, sharp and cold. Not at all the comfort you had just known. His large hands dragged you by your thigh and sat you on his knee.
“What do you think you’re doing, you damned brute?” you never thought Maximilien could be angry before this moment.
“You’ve had your fun,” the tips of two metal digits threaten to tear you open, rimming you.
“Gentle!”
“I’m tired of waiting,” you’re already sobbing, but when his unforgiving fingers force their way through you, you’re screaming. There’s no relief when he pulls back, your body far too sore to recover in such a short amount of time before you’re filled again. His other hand held you still, and you would’ve been perfectly still if he wasn’t gripping you so hard enough to cut through your skin. You’ve learned to stop begging, stop crying for help, it only makes things worse. So you sobbed silently, whimpering when you needed to breathe. Maximilien’s hand fell on your back, trying to rub some sort of comfort into you. It meant nothing.
“You didn’t enjoy that show I put on for you earlier?” he asked.
“I admit,” he relaxed his fingers, “It was sweet. But I tired quickly of pathetic little touches.”
“If you would have waited you would see that I was getting to that,” Maximilien, too, was losing patience, “Enough of this, you won’t make good on any arrangement if you don’t let me take your pet for myself.”
He stopped, he actually stopped. When he released your limp body, the hard ground felt soft as a pillow. Maximilien took Rammatra’s soiled hand and brought it to your face.
“Clean your master, show him what a good pet you are.”
You would’ve loved to wrap your lips around Maximilien’s fingers, beg him with your eyes to finish you off. But to show that intimacy with Ramattra? Any sign of vulnerability you showed him he was sure to abuse. You closed your eyes tightly, tongue settling at his wet tips and tasting yourself.
“Eyes up,” Maximilien commanded.
That stoic face. Still somehow mocking you as you lapped the wetness, the taste and his gaze making you hold back bile. But you did as you were told, until only your saliva was left to glisten on his clawed hands.
That didn’t satisfy him for long, he was quick to wrap that same hand around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but used his grip as leverage to manipulate you. He had you sit on your knees, head up. Maximilien raised a hand to interrupt the process.
“Still for just a moment and I can give you something you never knew you wanted,” the promise was invited, would’ve been sweeter without Ramattra here.
Ramattra hummed, thumb playing with your bottom lip. Peering down at you like a toy he was hesitant in sharing. He freed your neck, “I want you pleading for mercy at the end of this.”
If you hadn’t been so worn down, you might’ve fought back, sometimes wished you had the guts to spit a curse at him. Other times you were glad to be quiet. You shifted your gaze, hoping he didn’t notice your whimpering. Maximilien came forward and raked a hand through your hair. His touch was nothing short of delightful and melting into him became an instinct. Finally spoiled after endless abuse.
“So sweet for me,” he trailed his fingers down your cheek, lifted your chin and tilted it from side to side, “Your master loves to make a show of you, doesn’t he? Lay back.”
Shifting off your knees, you laid down on the thin blanket Rammatra had made your bed. Maximilien held your knees, rubbed circles into them as he watched you display your body for him.
“You’ve been lovely, darling, but I want to hear more from you,” he moved his hands to the back of your knees, spreading you apart, “A good pet begs.”
“Please,” you stammered in a whisper, not even sure what you’re asking for.
“You’ll have two masters, now. Address me as such,” he continued trailing down your legs, spreading you wider.
“Yes, master,” the words burned your cheeks in shame and muted anger. You looked away when he dipped his finger at your hole. Now that you’d been primed by Rammatra, there was no need for him to ease himself into you, yet he still kept a slow pace. His other hand steady at your hip, gently messaging you like a lover taking a virgin. You were still tender, but he eased the pain by thumbing over your arousal, messaging you just enough to ignore the sting.
He heavied the pressure, drawing soft moans from you again. His finger curled and your body sang in tune, stretching your body in bliss. His other hand tightened, squeezing as he built pressure. He released, sent a slap to your exposed ass and you yelped, “I’m not hearing any begging. Brother, come here.”
You let out pleading whimpers as you watched Rammatra approach. His gaze intent on your body, watched as you squirmed and begged at a mere touch. Maximilien pulled away when Rammatra knelt between your legs, holding your knees apart and spreading you wider than you thought possible at this position.
“Keep the pressure there and do what you were before. You’ll find much better results.”
His fingers filled you again, never just one, while his other hand took Maximilien’s suggestion. Though gentler, he was not as nimble as Maximilien and would too often painfully spear you. But when he hit just the right spot, the satisfaction was almost worth it.
“Beg. Now.”
He’d made that command to you before, and you cried and screamed to indulge him. Pleas not made in passion, but in fear. He wasn’t your master, he was your tormentor. The last thing you could imagine was him delighting in your pleasure. And you never thought you’d enjoy his touch. That you’d find bliss in begging him.
“Please, master,” you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for, but it seemed to do wonders as he had you moaning loudly not long after. He didn’t need to ask again, you’re pleading with him frantically after every moan and by the way he increased to a brutal pace, it’s exactly what he wanted. He inserted another finger, the pain was hot and pricked a tear from your eye - ecstasy.
He sent a sharp slap to your ass, his strength dwarfing the Maximilien’s touch, while he began to scissor three claws inside of you. Your hands hurried to soothe the pain, stop it somehow but Maximilien caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. You tried for him to find sympathy in your wet eyes, but he kept you still as Rammatra stretched you impossibly full.
“That’s it, faster,” Maximilien ordered over your panicked, bouncing body with a determined voice. You kicked and squirmed. When Rammatra found just the right spot, the perfect tempo, your body took control. The sensation far too much for you to keep still any longer, so close to release.
“Yes, faster! Please, please, please,” voice tittering to babbling cries as your master stretched you brutally, his associate pinning you tighter as you came undone. Your mind chased bliss, and every sight is him, your master.
He can see it, too, that look on your face. Your desperate glances and quaking body, your legs spread wide open for him. You’re his, more than you ever have been before.
Your ears rang when you came, pain searing your sobering body. His fingers stopped scissoring but were still inside you. Maximilien released his grip and your rolled your wrists, wincing at the raw wounds. When Rammatra removed his fingers, you worried you would never be able to move your legs again.
He lifted you in his arms, tired and weak. “I will take the pet to my chambers to rest,” he curled his arms and pulled you closer, “I trust you enjoyed your reward. It was well deserved.”