I am an artist and this is my more personal blog where I gush about my favourite characters and dump all of my selfship/yumeship/ocxcanon stuff because they don’t belong on my other two accounts.
I love all things horror and macabre.
My Strawpage
Main F/os:
G-Man (Half-Life) (16+ years)
Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow (Batman) (8+ years)
Caesar Clown (One Piece)
The Babadook
They are not the only ones though, there are plenty I casually self insert with from many fandoms (I also love Spandam, Springtrap, Ghost Papas, etc) so I’m really all over the place!
This is an 18+ account.
I love to draw character x anon artwork. Some of said artwork is NSFW though, but that can be seen on my Twitter, username is the same - v0idkisser.
I don’t take requests unless it pertains to my f/os. However I am open to Fallout ghouls and maaaaybe some OP characters. But if you want anything else, I do commissions!
Unpacking what's been piling up (Corazon, Law, Kid, Caesar)
With everything that’s happened and you not being given the appropriate amount of time to process, giving yourself just that was going to be a long journey. Noticing the weight you’d been carrying and how it’d been draining you, he was there to offer you what you needed most.
a/n: just something to help me deal with things with a random mix of op men.
Corazon, Law, Kid, Caesar
CW: SFW, gn!reader, drabble, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, light cursing in Kid’s
Corazon: The state he found you in wasn’t how you wanted to start the conversation, but perhaps him seeing you with your broken heart was for the best—nothing could have made that moment more vulnerable. Not needing the context, he went to comfort you.
“What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Concern dripped from his lips. When you turned to him, there was no stopping the tears from flowing.
At first he couldn’t make out what you were saying, you choked on your words each time you attempted to talk.
He held you against him and stroked your hair as you tried to collect yourself. “Take your time. Don’t rush yourself. I’m not going anywhere.” Giving you that meant more than he may ever realize.
After allowing yourself that much needed time, you poured your heart out. “Why did they invite me if they were just going to ignore me? I don’t understand… did they just want to hurt me?” There was no contest when dealing with heartache, whether it was from a lover, family member, or friend that pain struck the core.
His brow furrowed as he recalled similar treatment you faced in the past. The reason as to why you had such misfortune would never justify what you were going through. Seeing you break down after opening yourself to a friendship that turned out to be one-sided tore him apart. He wanted to help you understand that their cruelty was not your weight to bear.
“I don’t know why, sweetheart, but they’re the ones with the problem, not you.” His voice was teetering on the edge of shared sorrow, trying to restrain himself so that he could be your rock.
“You’ll find friends—real friends.” He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head. “I promise you will.”
“What if I can’t? I don’t know if I can handle much more of this, Rosi…” He could feel his heart shattering at your words. How could he not have noticed the extent of this? He felt terrible because here you were all this time alone and afraid.
“Oh, my sweet, you deserve so much more than what you’ve been dealt. I know life can be cruel, believe me, but it isn’t all bad or all good. It simply is. There is a light to the darkness you’ve faced, trust me. I’ve seen it for myself.” The words just kept coming, hoping that there could be something for you to cling to for support. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure if anything he was doing or saying was the right thing. He just wanted you to know there was a chance at happiness.
“I just want the pain to stop… It hurts so much.” You choked out those last words. It felt like the pain would never end.
“It will, and I’ll be here to help every step of the way.” Cuddling you close, the warmth he gave you seemed like the only beacon of hope that there were others like him who could care about you like he could.
Law: After experiencing a loss, you went into an emotional tailspin. At times you found yourself in the eye of the storm, a false sense of calmness that would undoubtedly end. These gale force winds felt like they had no way out. There was so much you wanted to say to them, but no chance of allowing yourself to do so.
“It’s so unfair!” Seething through your teeth was the emotion you’d been reluctant to let loose.
Those words rang true for him. He watched you pacing back and forth to the point you could’ve created a rut in the floor. The anger of pained hurt and betrayal you were experiencing, it was everything he could sympathize with. An unfair world that picked and preyed on those most vulnerable, and yet you were still here fighting the odds stacked against you.
There was something refreshing about seeing this side of you. It was as if all those layers were being peeled back. He watched you let out the steam that was searing your flesh.
“I feel like everything was taken from me, and they’re not even around anymore to apologize for it, to… to yell and scream at. They’re just gone.”
The fury streamed down your cheeks at knowing you’d never get that confrontation you deserved. Cooled from the iced mourning for the relationship you needed but never received, your next words were teased on your trembling lips. With the flood of animosity being swept away by grief, Law finally came to your side.
You knew he of all people would understand the depth of the waters you were drowning in. His arms tightened around you, acting as the life preserver in the rising tides. Gripping onto you more tightly, his own afflictions of the past were being brought out.
“It is unfair; you’re right.” He didn’t know what else to say other than everything you were feeling was justified. You had every right to be angry. “But you’re still here.” Such a simple observation at a glance that burrowed deep beneath surface level.
You could live the life you deserved. As he kept you close, all the rage from before twisted into the grief of what should have been. There was no changing the past, only the future you wanted for yourself.
While he held you against him, there was no stopping the second wave of tears. “Why was it so hard for them to love me?” You buried your face in his chest and cried to your heart’s content.
Although he wasn’t one to express himself freely, he was still capable of being there when you needed him most. More than just a shoulder to cry on, he cared for you more than you ever thought someone could.
“They didn’t deserve you,” he mumbled. If he could, he would take away all the pain you’d been carrying, instead he would be the one giving you the support you were void of for all those years. “You can be happy and be loved in spite of them.”
Kid: He was in the spirit to wreck something. To be fair, there weren’t many times he wasn’t in the mood to do that. Pissed off and looking for a target, many nearby scurried out of his line of fire. Your soft cries were muffled from behind the door, but Kid’s ears tuned in without any problems.
Marching up to the door, he pounded on it without thinking. “What are you crying about this time?” His unchecked rage pulled out your own.
You swung open the door and matched his energy. “Can’t you take a second to think before you act?” Your eyes were slightly reddened and puffy from the long hours of sobbing. He was caught off guard for a moment, but he wasn’t going to let your retaliation slide so easily.
“It’s not like I have much time to think when all I hear are your cries about this or that!” That stung just as he intended.
“What is your problem? No matter what your first reaction to anything is to punch or kill it!” You tried slamming the door in his face, but he slapped his hand to it to stop you.
“Well, maybe you should take a page out of my book? You’re angry, just be angry for once instead of hiding away in your room.” He was right—you were infuriated and with no real outlet, you had reduced yourself to forcing down any real chance at change.
“Fine!” You barged past him and hurried to the rotten tree trunks nearby. Following behind you, he felt like this was the push both of you needed: a place to unleash everything that was eating away at you.
“Go on then! Think of everyone that did you wrong and let go!” He shouted at you from behind. You grabbed an axe and let out a scream as you drove the blade down. When the stump split in half, you could hear his booming laugh cheering you on. Even though there were things about him that drove you mad, he knew how to push you.
Without warning, he charged up to your side and blasted a punch through a tall tree. The force behind it sent shock waves to the surrounding areas. He turned to you in a huff: his face red and sweaty, his sadistic smile from the physical exertion, and the panting from the thrill.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nodded and smiled back at him. “Yeah, it does!” Going to the next stump, he stopped you.
“Don’t waste your energy on pure adrenaline. You gotta concentrate it. Think of someone who did you so dirty, someone who you despise more than anyone else.” He watched you intently, seeing those gears turn in you as you envisioned that special person made him proud that you were finally taking some of his ideas seriously. “Got it?”
“Yeah.” You gripped the handle harder and your breathing became labored as all that hatred bubbled within you.
“Let fucking loose!”
With a power cry of rage, you threw that sharpened blade straight through the center of the rotten stump. Gritted teeth, tingles of pain prickling through your arms: you could feel every ounce of your distress being taken away. Steadying yourself, you took a moment to catch your breath.
“Feel better?” He came over to you and placed his hand on your waist to pull you close.
“Yeah, actually… Who knew you could give good advice?” Your teasing words made his cheeks flush a bright red.
“I always have good ideas! You just need to pay more attention.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed while you headed back with him.
Caesar: Humming to himself, he was absentmindedly wandering the halls in search of you. The good mood he was in caused the typically ominous clouds of gas to morph into lighter puffs. Finally finding you, he perked up at the sight. Your back was turned to him, blinding him to the pain you were carrying.
“I’ve been thinking, we should celebrate.” When you didn’t immediately ask what the occasion was, his eyes narrowed but he continued cheerfully. “You might be wondering why, but what other reason do we need than my overwhelming achievements.”
He couldn’t resist chuckling at his own idea for self-indulgence, but when you didn’t match his enthusiasm, the joy on his face fell. He nearly shouted to get your attention, but the sniffle and quick wipe at your cheek stopped him.
Oh, you were crying… he grimaced slightly at the displeasure of not exactly perfecting being able to comfort someone, but he knew he couldn’t just leave you there. However, he had many masks, so putting one on in order to approach you would suffice.
“Oh, my dear, what’s got you so down?” As he got a closer look at you, the genuine pain in your expression nearly caused that mask to crack.
“Just being tormented by the past more often than usual today.” You didn’t spill your guts to him immediately because you understood him well enough to know emotions weren't his strong suit.
He smirked slightly. “Is that all? What a silly thing to be upset about.” There was a hint of relief in his voice.
“What do you mean ‘is that all’? And it doesn’t feel ‘silly’ to me.” Just once you wanted him to be able to sympathize with you like any other person.
Standing idly by your side, his eyes casted down on you. There wasn’t any judgement in his gaze, though. You hadn’t really shown any frustration towards him before; it felt as if he was chipping away to the core of you. With a light sigh, he pulled up a chair next to you. His back was to the table and he propped himself up by his arms. He crossed his legs as he mulled over his own bitter past.
“You know, the past has long since died. All that anger and hatred can only live if its host allows it to.” The nonchalant tone carried itself to you easily.
Turning to him, your tears halted and your heartbeat was growing steady. “But how am I supposed to kill off these parasites?”
He smiled to himself. “There’s no one way, actually. But, if you don’t do anything, then you’ll just rot in the past.” Perhaps those words weren’t just meant for you. Self-reflection wasn’t something he was used to, but being around you had him doing it more and more often.
Shaking his head as if to rattle out those emotions peeking through, he gently patted your leg before getting up. “Well, I’m going to celebrate. You’re free to join me, of course.”
While you watched him go towards the door, a smile twitched at your lips. You went to follow him, your first step towards leaving the past behind you.
horror movie enjoyers will be having a terrible day and be like fuuuuuck i need to unwind….maybe nows the time to finally check out shit piss deathfest 2 . For a bit of lighthearted entertainment
a/n: This is my first time posting my oc or s/i, so I thought it’d be a good idea to give some kind of introduction to her and her place in OP and give some interactions with characters before getting to the birthday part of this. I have a bunch of other ideas for her, maybe I’ll write about them too. The breaks signal a time skip (some longer than others but no time specified) @vividly-vermillion 😈
Casted to the shadows for what deemed her a danger to the public, Salem couldn’t allow her wings to be trimmed any longer. There had to have been a place for her over the horizon where she could let her true nature flourish.
CW: NSFW! MDNI! Female OC x Caesar, s/i, some fluff, vaginal sex, descriptions of animal and human death, experimentation, toxic fumes, rough sex, multiple creampies, daddy kink
“I’m sorry, my dear… I had to think of something else, something more drastic.” The shakiness in Salem’s voice only came after she realized what she’d done. The mildew smell and different shades of stone gray were a backdrop to the final chapter of many of these men’s lives.
A Marine whom she couldn’t save the old-fashioned way and was now better off dead due to her extreme measures. Such things couldn’t be helped—that was what her superiors told her, though she doubted they saw her as a do-gooder who simply made a mistake. She was past that point, and she was sure they knew that too. Keeping her around even after the gossip of ill intentions colored her in a bleak light, there was more than what met the eye when it came to the government; anyone with a brain could see that.
Dispose of what you could not salvage—she understood that to be loosely phrased on purpose, for she assumed her morbid curiosity was not exactly a mystery to those she worked with. Cutting through the skulls of those destined to die horrible deaths made the aftermath that much more palpable. Deep in thought, her hands worked on their own, severing the sections she needed to examine more closely. It was all for the greater good when it came with a noble sacrifice, and yet she often caught herself wondering if this so-called greater good was really as it seemed.
Glancing down at the drained body of the man who’d been sent to her for help, she wasn’t ready to admit her cruel nature to herself. Ashamed but unwilling to stop the many more that would meet their untimely death at her hands, she could only face the fact that she was selfish in her pursuits, nothing more sinister quite yet. That side of her still hid in her closet, peaking between the clothes resembling body bags.
Salem pushed that grim reality back into the corners of her mind, while she concentrated on examining the samples. “Death’s hands had already claimed you.” Her solemn hum was diluted with a twitching smirk.
She took a moment to recall the man’s appearance and shook her head. There would’ve been no saving him regardless of what she tried. As if out of habit, she took a blood sample for herself. The immorality that came with playing with leftovers should have left an unsavory taste in her mouth, but Salem developed the bad habit many moons ago. Shaking her head, she tried to rattle out that little voice.
You shouldn’t do that. Others won’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done.
“I shouldn’t care what others think.” She gritted her teeth at the constant battle within her. Everyone wanted to be accepted for who they were, but it seemed most could only be accepted for what they ought to be. Forced to hide their true selves—that was the place she’d found herself, although she fought it tooth and nail.
But you do care.
She frowned at that. There was a part of her that was fearful of letting go of that yearn for acceptance from those who simply didn’t and would never understand her. Perhaps it was merely a community she had at one point wanted to be involved in, seeing as she wasn’t able to find her own sense of companionship.
Side projects of hers were in abundance, and expanding upon a viral blood disorder was the new addition. Salem gazed up fondly at the shelf dedicated to those that needed that perfect time to flourish. Swirling murky water in a jar was a favorite of hers. The critters within stayed hidden to the naked eye; a charm that didn’t seem to sit right with others.
Her eyes fell. “What am I still doing here?”
Placing her hands on the desk, she leaned back in the chair. She sighed while taking in her surroundings—banished to the basement to carry out unspeakable projects, only kept around for the advancements they wanted, that they classified as worthy. Her brow furrowed. Everything she wanted to accomplish had to be done in secret, her higher-ups bearing too much shame to admit they were tied to her, stringing her along for the “good” she was capable of.
What did it mean to be good or bad in a world where they mixed into shades of grey anyway? The lines were blurred. The ones who refused to acknowledge that were the same who clipped her wings. Floodgates of emotion washed away any shreds of loyalty she’d been clinging onto. Tattered trust from the years of perceived mistreatment disintegrated in her hands, finally pushing her to cut ties.
“I don’t deserve this.” Muttering to herself, the rash decision to find a place to spread her bandaged wings guided her. The dampness of the cement walls was unsavory as they wept at the sight of the long-term tenant up and leaving.
There was something more for her, and it was just out of reach of the suppressing grip of the World Government.
--------------------
A journey to find the place she could be herself was a tall order. Quick judgement casted people like her into the shadows for daring to push the boundaries. The glimmer of hope that there was someone like her who craved that bittersweet bite of death was persistent, albeit flimsy. Head held high, the hope of finding others like her was her beacon.
Twisting roads that seemed to coil tighter and tighter around her made her wonder how much longer she would have to travel.
No one will come to answer your prayers.
Even though the voice in her head continuously casted doubt, it wasn’t enough to shake her confidence. Why shouldn’t I find where I belong when so many others have? They’re not any more special than me, and I’m not any less deserving.
Self-assurance played on repeat to shout over what may hold her back from succeeding. Lost in her own thoughts, a mere glance was given to the shifting surroundings.
Wanted posters littered the walls more freely in the area she found herself in. Miles worth of weather-worn faces watched her. The repeating offenders didn’t phase her until there was a pair of eyes void of everything she was hesitant to abandon that found her—buried between the newer papers. Peeling them off one by one, her eyes scanned over the man with horns.
The oil street lamps began to flicker when she pulled it off the cold stones. She brought it closer, feeling an eerie recognition. His name was illegible, making her nibble her lip trying to recall it. Ripping off the many layers, posters of him were few and far between.
The breeze made her shiver. Each one of his wanted posters had his name either torn or damaged. There had to be one. Another grasp at a layer tore them off to reveal his identity.
“Caesar Clown.”
The flames lighting the street were sucked away with the sudden gust of wind, bringing a darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.
---------------------
“A new arrival, you say?” He tapped his chin, mulling over what Monet had informed him. A sly grin stretched his purple lips. “I suppose I should give my final say if you think she’s worth the time.” Chuckling to himself, he took his time coming over to meet the newcomer Monet was telling him about.
Entering the room, he watched her from a distance. The doe-eyed expression she had while looking around made him snort to himself. A smirk played on his lips as he had a hard time understanding why someone as close to him as Monet thought she was worth anything to him. Before he had the chance to sneak up on her, she turned to greet him.
Her sweet blush spread on her cheeks from the flustered encounter, and the little smile she gave was unbecoming for the work she did. “It’s nice to meet you,” she squeaked out. “My name’s—”
“Salem, yes. Monet has told me a lot about you, actually.” Caesar loomed over her, as if inspecting her closely. “Perhaps you’ll enlighten me as to why that is.”
In spite of the heat prickling on her face, she’d never felt so close to the life she’d envisioned for herself, which gave her every reason to push forward. The confidence exuding from her made his grin reappear, eager to know what exactly his assistant saw in her.
“Well, I did manage to save my personal projects when leaving the navy base.” Caesar took a mental note to circle back to that later. “This one,” Salem said with glee, “is my favorite.” She hugged the jar close to her, smiling down at it like it was her own child.
The swirling mass shimmered faintly in the light. Parasites. How intriguing. Before he had the chance to ask, she offered to give him a demonstration.
“If you’d like, I can show you just why I adore them so much. However, it would be better to test them on someone you don’t particularly favor…” Her voice trailed into an eerie delight. The smile on her face twisted the innocence he’d mistaken her for.
“I have many guinea pigs we can use, don’t you worry,” he hummed. The excitement sparkling in her eyes made him cackle.
“I just need a glass from them to drink from. We shouldn’t have to wait long afterwards.” She was petting the jar, clearly out of affection. His eyes looked her over again, making him wonder about this peculiar little thing that found her way to Punk Hazard.
“Say no more.” He instructed Monet to gather refreshments for the workers.
They were too simple minded to sniff out any of his tricks, especially when it was handed to them by the woman they fawned over. A little drop was all that was necessary for the unfortunate soul to succumb to what was needed for Salem to earn her place.
The giddiness in her as she looked on gave a vibrancy that was hard to come by in such grim work. She glanced up at him, meeting those yellow eyes that bathed her in speculation. A disgruntled groan came from the group, breaking Caesar’s focus. Turning on his heels, he nodded for Monet to bring the man in so as not to ruse a panic. Even without having seen Salem’s work unfold entirely, he was sure it wasn’t anything new. However, there was a sliver of him that hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a massive disappointment.
When the man was brought in, he was already riddled with agony. He was laid down on a table, crying of severe stomach pain.
“How would you describe this pain? One being none and ten being the worst pain of your life.”
“Ten,” he choked out.
Caesar threw a glance at Salem before returning to the henchman with a reassuring tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help you.” Lying through his teeth, he was simply biding time.
Each groan reached a new level of severity, while he helplessly thrashed upon the table to the empty words that were no longer soothing his worries. Sweat broke out over him and his pale expression quickly turned to a beet red as the veins in his neck and face throbbed. His hand tore at the bulge scurrying up under the side of his neck.
Eyes rolling back, body seizing, nails nowhere near sharp enough to dig the torment out: the onlookers were a mix of cruel fascination and hesitant glee. A sudden splatter of blood painted across the table as the newly freed isopod made its escape, but it was soon imprisoned by another glass jar. Salem held her grip on the top tightly, slowly getting down to eye level.
“Without strict measures, they could cause quite the fuss.” Her face softened from the mere thought of chaos running rampant through the various species the world had to offer. “Isn't it vial?” The romantic tone to her voice was paired with a dreamy sigh.
Caesar smirked at the admiration she had not just towards her creation but towards the disorderly terror that it could cause. With a deep breath he gazed back down at the man. Before even examining him, the sight the critter had created from the open wound on his neck was grotesque within itself.
Monet cut open the clothes to a seemingly unscathed torso. Her eyes locked with Caesar's for a moment before he sliced down the abdomen. Caving in almost entirely, the skin collapsed around the half eaten organs scattered within the carcass. A clear pathway could be traced to where the creature made its way out, sparking even more interest in what Salem had showcased.
“Well, that was a productive introduction.” His laugh carried throughout the room. “Maybe I will have use for your creativity after all.” Gingerly, his fingers danced along the recently deceased specimen, taking in the view of the patterns at which their little friend feasted.
Her eyes flickered up at him, appearing warped from the jar's thick glass. Smiling at her in satisfaction, his attention then turned back to his assistant. The nod was a silent understanding to take the demonstration away for further inspection at a later time. When the heavy doors slammed shut, he clasped his gloved hands together.
“So you mentioned the navy.” His smile bore into her. Seeing her cling onto the jar with the enlarged parasite tapping around made his eyes narrow wickedly.
“Yes, I worked for them, although there was hardly anything worth working for in a place like that.” She trailed her finger up and down the glass jar, recalling the shut-in they forced her to be.
“They’re known for stomping out anything they don’t understand.” Watching her tease the bug through the glass got him feeling a type of discomfort that was completely foreign to him, not anything along the lines of disgust, and yet sickening all the same.
Clearing his throat to snag her attention from what she was doing, he then extended his hand with a friendly offer. “If I may, I'd like to take a look at what you've created. It's a fine specimen that I promise to keep safe.”
Salem's eyes fell to the carnivorous bug, feeling a prickling pain at the thought of giving it up.
“I won't do anything to it without your permission. You have my word.” He placed his right hand over his chest and raised his left, solemnly swearing in order to earn her trust. Her hesitation spoke volumes. She was unwilling to part with it? How intriguing.
With a long sigh, she said, “I’m only willing if that means you’ll take me on your team.”
“But of course! So much potential shouldn’t be casted out onto the streets.” His eyes soaked in every inch of her, the gears already turning on how best to capitalize on her talents. “You know, I’ve always wanted an apprentice of some sort.” He hummed and nodded at his own remark. “Yes, and I believe you fit the bill nicely. So, what do you say?” A hand was extended to her once more, this time offering her something she was only dreaming of up until this point.
A place that actually wanted her for who she was and with other like-minded individuals: it almost seemed too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”
He exhaled deeply to steady himself. “Not so much a catch as much as a condition. Just to make sure I don’t have any…problems, I’ll need you to lend me your heart.” The shock at the request was understandable, seeing as she wasn’t aware of how such a thing was going to be conducted. “Don’t worry, it’ll be painless. There’s someone here who can swap it from you without you even feeling a thing!” Caesar giggled at the concern blanketing her face.
“If that’s what it takes, then fine.” Her mind was already made up. Someone else like her wasn’t going to come along any time soon. With her heart beating fast, she stared him in the face and nodded in agreement.
His laugh settled and became faint with desire to uncover more about her. “Alright then.” Promptly sitting down on the sofa, he called the assumed colleague of his while keeping his gaze on hers.
Salem wasn’t short by any means. However, being around people like Caesar and Monet dwarfed her in comparison, sitting on the couch opposite to him made it that much more obvious. Her feet dangled above the ground, so she could sit comfortably. The embarrassment from feeling child-sized by a mere piece of furniture was desperately shoved down.
Don’t give him any leverage.
Sh-Shut up, not now. She was already fighting with that voice in her head. A seed of doubt had yet to be planted, but knowing her, it was only a matter of time. Her eyes flickered up at him, without even noticing he’d already finished his call and was just watching her now. Absent-mindedly playing with her skirt, the attempt to self-soothe wasn’t working well with her new boss staring at her.
Leaning across the table, his lower half turned to gas to allow more comfort. He propped himself on his laced fingers and smiled at her. “Tell me, Salem. What other personal projects did you have while working for the World Government? Don’t tell me you’re a one hit wonder.” He chuckled at his own joke, though she got the impression he’d dispose of her if she were to ever disappoint him.
“Truth be told, I wasn’t working for them for very long. That being said, I was inspired to create a flesh eating disease and a viral blood disorder, but I should confess the blood disorder is nowhere near finished. I left the base just after starting it.”
“You specialize in biological warfare, I see…” He closed his eyes and gently turned his head from side to side, as if rolling around an idea he had in store for her. “Those ideas of yours, are they always as catastrophically grisly?” His eyes shot open and his face became grim.
Not sure what kind of answer he was looking for, she gave one that was honest. “Well, yes, I suppose they are. I find a lot of beauty in the horrors of our world and adore bringing them to light. Maybe it’s distasteful to some to have such a passion, but it gives me this feeling of being… whole.” Salem’s eyes shimmered with a devotion to the craft she was describing, already envisioning herself pursuing more.
There was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on, something that plucked admiration in him but that also called upon a disquiet deep within him. “You’d do right by yourself if you just cut those naysayers out of your life.”
Approaching footsteps took Caesar’s attention from her. Taking his advice to heart, she smiled at him all without him noticing the awe-struck gratitude he’d helped flourish. Throwing his arm over the backrest, he spread his legs to accommodate his large size.
“What took you so long?” He called to the figure who was hiding his face under a large hat.
“It takes time to walk through here. We can’t all fly like you.” His icey tone made Caesar scoff.
“Whatever! Law, this is our new addition to the team Salem. She’s also my apprentice.” His delivery exuded a pride in himself for being able to carry another title of superiority.
Even if the occasion was in high spirits for both her and Caesar, Law’s glare at that ‘apprentice’ title he’d given her was a threat to her good mood more than Caesar’s.
After babbling about himself and how perfect he was for Salem to learn from, Caesar instructed Law to carry out the conditions. He waited a moment. When the stare-off between the both of them wasn’t ending, Caesar clicked his tongue in annoyance and snapped his fingers at Law impatiently.
“Don’t get distracted by the new pretty girl. I need you to take her heart!”
His demand was carried out. Before she could blink, a swift hand movement placed her heart in Caesar’s palm. The heart murmur set hers apart, making it more vulnerable than the others in more ways than one.
“What a unique characteristic to a unique woman.” He played his cards well, already gathering what he would need to do to keep her under his thumb.
He’s playing you.
I know that! She collected herself, sometimes that voice had a point. “It takes a keen eye to appreciate such a thing.” A soft tone that carried her words far, the effect ignited a tingling of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
His grin returned, completely ignoring the grimace from Law on his way out. The cold shoulder Law gave both of them made her shiver. He was a stick in the mud—that was what she tried to convince herself of to make this transition easier. She wasn’t the odd one… Law had to have been.
“Don’t pay him any mind.” He tucked her heart into his robe for how he put it ‘safe keeping’. “How about you and I discuss your projects in more detail.” The lengthening clouds of gas spread to her as he moved from the sofa posing as soft gestures urging her to follow him into the lab.
“There are some kinks we need to work out with the creatures, of course, but I must say I like the way you think.” He lazily gestured towards Salem, chuckling to himself as they neared the doors.
“Maybe I’m a bit too partial to the ‘all or nothing’ mentality,” she mentioned modestly. “I figured if there’s a chance I could die, then why not take the rest of the world with me?”
Stopping in his tracks, those words struck a chord with him. “And what an outlook to have.” The quiet voice was enough to send shivers down her spine, but there was a deep acceptance in his eyes.
The smile on her face couldn’t be helped. That look he gave her, whether it was intentional or not, it felt like home. His eyes lingered on her a bit longer. Although he turned away without returning her smile, his lips twitched at the corner once he knew she would not be able to see. He let out a deep sigh as the lab door opened.
---------------------
Intimidation piqued more than curiosity between them. Minds that perceived the world around them differently, and still came to gruesome outcomes, some being a toss up between the most nightmarish. Two forces of chaos: his being a silent killer while hers was a raging fire. Completely opposite to their outer appearances, they complimented these attributes uniquely.
Beyond the title he bore, so little was truly known about the man that’d caught her eye. Salem thought back to what led her here—chance. While she injected the virus into the rat’s bloodstream, the squirming from it was a soothing drum to the reminiscence of the past. Humming to herself, her eyes fluttered over to him. His hair was tied up as he squeezed out each drop of solution carefully.
The tip of his tongue always parted his lips slightly when he was deep in thought. As the final drop signaled a perfect result, his concentrated expression stretched to one of boast. His eyes met hers, letting his personality shine like hyper beams.
“You see? Just as I thought! Only three drops, not the five you were drowning the poor thing in.”
A giggle passed her lips at the pride he took in the littlest things. Clearing his throat, he couldn’t suppress the smile curling in the corners of his mouth.
Bubbling beakers and hazardous liquids being handled: this was hardly the place for an office romance. He was a smooth operator when he wanted to be, but such a facade was short-lived when he came to realize she was more than just a pretty face.
Peering over at the rat under her hand, he saw the spasms were dying down. “Looks like your little friend isn’t going to make it.” Feigned heartbreak came with a played up pout when he rolled over to her side.
Salem lifted her hand and was greeted with the flesh decaying at an accelerated rate. The heartbeat was frantically working alongside the dissolving lungs, not dead yet but praying to be soon. “Poor little thing, born to die.”
His hand snaked under hers to gather the ill-fated animal. “I never tire of that sweet smell of death,” he purred while holding it up by its tail and just above her head like a macabre mistletoe.
Diving forward, she crashed her lips into his. A hunger that only grew the longer her lips were on his. Returning her ravenous kiss was the least he could do. While their tongues sloppily swirled around each other, the rat slowly rotated on its decaying tail. The snap of it was followed by the soft thud. Neither acknowledged nor mourned, the only instance following the onset of death was Caesar's now freed hand pulling her closer.
He can't love. You've seen his heartlessness with your own eyes.
Her moans trailed into his mouth, trying to drain it out; that voice was a constant reminder of the weight she carried around. She deepened the kiss, desperately drowning the voice inside her head. Caesar’s hands gripped her tighter.
“That’s right… Show me how much you want me.” He panted softly as the need for more rose within him.
How do you get a man whose heart is wrapped in barbed wire to care about you?
Thorns that once pricked the fingers when she came too close, the sting went as quickly as it had come. Salem looked at the small beads of blood, crimson pearls that held a beauty so few cherished and a taste that sent the senses ablaze. Tongue swirling on the tip of her finger and her eyes meeting his: those orbs followed her wherever she went, even when his presence was just the goosebumps coming with a gust of wind.
You can't.
His hands ran up and down her thighs, teasing the lace on her thigh-high tights. Her face furrowed in an attempt at strangling that damn voice. Labored breaths and shaky moans, his fingers coaxed each delicious response from her.
Unbuttoning her own top, her chest rose and fell in the sheer lace bra. A low groan came from him before his mouth ravished her neck and alluring breasts. His tongue dragged over the faint, delicate dips of her top ribs, his fingers pulled the dainty cups below her breasts, and his teeth tenderly bit her nipples.
A mutual understanding that shifted and led them into a tango among the desolate land. Silence as dead as the ground and those underneath it, and yet they never felt more alive. The scent of death lingered wherever he went. A natural musk in a sense that quickly became her perfume. To be enveloped entirely by him—a desire that could lead to one being six feet under like the rest of them.
Her fingers tangled in his raven hair, and her eyes rolled back when they traced over his horns.
You lost to him.
“Take me,” she begged.
Squeezing her ass tightly, he thrusted into. Aggressive and animalistic, the passion burned more intensely the more time they spent together. Grunts of unbridled desire were driven into her, earning him those honeyed moans he had become addicted to. Dragging her nails down his back made him push her to those sweet, blissful limits. He gripped her long hair and yanked her head back, forcing her body to arch. That beautiful milky-white skin, her soft pink nipples, freckles kissing her body:
“You're mine.” Lost in her and the pleasure that exceeded the physical, coming undone at the seams was as natural as breathing.
Rendering her helpless, he plowed into her. Her slick pussy splattered against his hips, soaking his pubic hair and dripping down his balls. Caesar's pace remained vigorous, giving them the fix they'd be back craving soon enough. Streams of cum shot inside her, leaving flushed faces of unabashed ecstasy with each pump. His tongue fell out from his open mouthed smile. Panting over her, he got every last drop deep inside her.
Each time Salem laid with him, it was like she was being placed on a bed of roses. The thorns pricked her skin, only heightening the pleasure. The fragrance of the sweet petals mixing with the rusty scent of blood made their pupils dilate. Tantalizing erotica that had them licking the cuts left behind from their lovemaking. Each lick spread the blood across the tongue, enticing moans and heavy groping.
He buried his face between her breasts, squeezing them against his cheeks. As his spent cock softened and eased out of her, his thick cum left a trail down her slit and ass. Taking one of her nipples in his mouth, he flicked it teasingly with this tongue. Caesar cradled her in his arms, enjoying the taste of every inch of her honeydew skin.
“You’ll be the death of me.” His whisper bathed her sensitive skin.
“And what a spectacular death that would be.” Her mind was hazy as they came down from their shared high.
Minute details not gone unnoticed, neither of them were a stranger to assuming the worst, and yet over time those walls lowered. Peaking over the barrier hesitantly, assuming even, never confirmed the suspicions they kept under lock and key.
Caesar smiled against her skin, placing a soft kiss on the reddened breast. Pulling back, he looked down at the afterglow on her. The state he left her in set those butterflies free in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that he hadn’t begun to fully accept, though he obsessed over it nonetheless.
His fingers played with her wavy hair, curling the chestnut color around the long digit. “How are you going to top this for my special day?”
“Are you doubting my creativity?” Salem teased. Her cheeks flushed from the gentle touch contrasting the harshness from earlier.
“No, of course not,” he chuckled. His eyes were glued to her face, loving the effect he had on her. “But, a little kick in the rear never hurt anyone.” A firm spank was planted on her backside. That little yelp that came with it was quickly swallowed by another kiss, although his lips held onto her with a rare tenderness this time.
Salem’s lips ghosted his. “I’ll make you feel like the king you are.” It was a promise she would keep, no matter how many times that little voice nagged her.
---------------------
Your plan will only disappoint him.
You don’t know that. Crossing out some and revising others, she scribbled her ideas down as fast as they were coming; the door sliding open didn’t pull her attention away. The slow steps coming up behind her were from someone she wasn’t particularly close with. She turned around to face the one who’d taken her heart.
“Can I help you?” Her question wasn’t venomous by any means, although the suspicion was obvious.
He sat down in the chair off to the side, crossing his arms. Salem tapped her pencil and stared at him, her patience running thinner and thinner with each interaction they had.
“Fine. Don’t talk to me, just glare at me like you always do.”
Law’s icy demeanor was unscathed, though the irritation was mutual. “Why are you even here?”
She snapped her head towards him. “Excuse me?”
Biting his tongue, the cool tone was enough to get his feelings across. “You aren’t like them.”
He’s right.
“And what do you know? This is the first time we’ve even talked, so how can you know anything about me?” Her words flowed as all the doubts she thought she’d rid herself of bubbled out of her like stage three rabies.
The sorrow in her words left a bite that was one to pity than to wince at. Intently, his eyes flickered over the emotion flushing her cheeks and tearing up in her eyes. Even if he wanted to drive his point home, there was no need. There was something she had been holding onto long before arriving at Punk Hazard.
Law’s eyes scanned her face one more time before getting up. “That little voice in your head you keep ignoring? Most would call that a conscience.”
You don’t belong anywhere, even he can see that.
“You don’t know anything,” she shouted as he left her alone to sulk. Both that incorrectly titled conscience and Law couldn’t have been more wrong. She knew that. “I’ll show you, both of you. I belong somewhere… I belong here.”
Motivated now more than ever, she planned out the perfect birthday to spend with the man whom she was more fond of than anyone else.
---------------------
Sparks of interest lit the dim halls, illuminating the path leading to his lab. Seemingly as light as a feather, Salem was dragged towards him, the toes of her shoes ghosting along the floor the closer she got. Saturated shades of blues, pinks, and purples dizzied the mind. Rhythmic beats stirred the colors the closer she got. Her breath was being dragged out with each pull. Hot flashes of metal being sliced showed an outline of the man pulling the rope once she got to the entrance.
Salem’s heart fluttered at the sight of him perfecting one of his many feats in weaponry. His smile stretched across his pale face. “I’d know that presence anywhere.” Turning around, he lifted his goggles to get a good look at her entranced by him.
“I thought I’d come and collect the special man to celebrate his big day,” she hummed and draped her arms over his chest. “If you can manage to take a break from such genius unfolding, that is.” Her flirtatious giggle was infectious.
“Oh, you know true talent never falters.” His words wrapped around her like a constrictor, squeezing and releasing around her most sensitive areas.
She nipped his earlobe and lightly ran the tip of her tongue up the shell of his ear. “Then why don’t you come with me, my sweet billy goat?” Salem giggled softly at how that nickname made him blush.
He didn’t need much convincing, since he put faith in her and how well she knew him. Following her across the building to a room she renovated for the special occasion, he purposefully lagged behind a little to allow himself something extra to enjoy; Salem’s hips swayed gently, making the skirt of her dress show off the curves that drove him wild.
Upon reaching the entrance, she twirled around. Her dress flared up, showing a glimpse of her scantily thought out lingerie. “This is probably a little different than you were expecting, but I think you’ll really love it.” The excitement in her voice made his sly grin more devilish than usual.
“Oh? Then I guess you should go on and show me.” His smile bore into her, while she opened up the doors to an all white room. Eyebrow cocked and that slyness falling, he stepped in without quite seeing where she was going with this.
Salem ran off to get the last part to the surprise. When he saw her rolling out the paint cans, his arms uncrossed and were placed on his hips. There was a vibrant array of shades, some resembling the most toxic colors from their very own creations.
“There’s a lot of thought that goes behind all the chaos you bring to this unsuspecting world, so I thought it’d be a nice change if we could let go completely.”
Caesar watched her dip her hands into the fluorescent yellow paint, cupping them as it overflowed. With a sudden grunt of force, Salem threw the paint against the white walls as hard as she could. The subtle pants coming from her and the soft smile were endearing. Turning to him, her eyes sparkled with elation. “Now, you!” He tried to fight off a smile, but with her being so eager to please, he gave in.
Dipping his hand neon purple, he had to admit the feel of the chilled paint on his skin offered a refreshing sensation. A large amount of it remained in his hand before he whipped it across the yellow. Droplets splattered across a large portion of the wall, creating something that could only be managed once. A smirk played on his lips as he took it in.
“Look how much better this dull room already is!” His laugh was amplified in the barren space and grew louder with each force that carried a new handful of paint. The grunts behind the throws were mixing with the snickers of the crazed patterns they were creating.
A next flick of her wrists barely gave the amount of color she wanted, making the majority of it plop on the floor.
“Aw, how cute!” Teasing teetered on mocking, although it was one of the only ways he knew how to flirt. “Little hands like that can’t do anything! Shirororo!” He easily covered the acid green she added with a quick toss of hot pink.
A fire was lit under her, letting her competitive spirit shine through. Taking a full can of acid green, she ran up to the wall. “Oh, yeah? Watch this!” The grunt she gave while throwing the paint fell into a shriek when she slipped on globs of paint. Most of the acid green fell straight on her, plastering her to the white marbled floor.
Caesar’s laughter grew closer as he came over to inspect her. Salem’s entire torso was covered in a thick layer, and droplets were scattered up her neck, cheeks, and across her thighs. His roaring laughs soon died down to chuckles, while he wiped away the tears.
“Look at you, huh? You sure showed me!” Seeing that pure enjoyment on his face made Salem laugh along with him.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty to go around!” She took a handful of paint off her stomach and threw it at him.
He pulled at his clothes and then looked at her with a mischievous glint. Seeing how that paint made her clothes cling to her body got something stirring in him. “You want to play dirty? I’ll make a mess out of you, darling.”
His hand wrapped around her calf and he tugged her closer effortlessly. Her dress pulled up around her waist, showing off her lace hipsters. Hair already covered in paint, her cheeks being dusted a soft pink, and the unadulterated lust in her eyes: swiftly, he flipped her over on her shins and shoved her face against the floor.
Caesar spanked her ass, growling at the yelps she gave. The fumes in the room were making her dizzy and weak. “My head is spinning.” Being surrounded by vibrant colors was making the effects that much more intense: swirling and mixing shapes, feeling his hands grip her hips roughly.
He cooed at her. “Just let the fumes take you to new heights of euphoria.” His voice had a sadistic lust that echoed in her head. Peeling down her panties, he never tired of the sight of her sweet body.
She was so willing to give herself to him. Even if the ways he wanted her were perverse, she wanted him with the same level of fervor.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
Its judgment echoed, but it sounded so far that Salem couldn’t register it clearly. “Fuck me…” She panted. “Fuck me, daddy.”
Hearing her call him that made him feral. “You want to be a good girl and let daddy have his way with you?” The tip of his cock slid up and down between her folds, making her shudder. Her weakened pleas for more were music to his ears.
Pushing into her, he put one of his hands on the back of her neck to keep her in place. She whined and trembled, feeling trapped under his massive body but not wanting any means of escape. Caesar’s other hand was placed on her hip as he leaned forward. His entire body covered hers easily. Being tucked between his thighs, she was already stuffed to the brim with him—such a pretty little thing.
Salem could feel so much more of him in this position, causing her moans to become louder and needier. The room was spinning, the colors were swirling, it was all making the thrusts hit every inch of her physically and mentally.
Forceful movements against her g-spot caused a ripple effect, the psychedelic colors and patterns sharing the rhythmic beat. Desperately, she clawed at the floor, creating streaks of paint on the tiles.
So helpless to the pleasure he was giving her, he groaned at the sight underneath him. “Not trying to escape from daddy, are you? Sweet girl…” His laughter twisted with sadism and bliss. As he got rougher, his grip on the back of her neck and hip got more controlling.
Her eyes rolled back and her breathing became labored. The paint smeared across her chest and face the faster his pacing got. Eyes fluttering, body shaking, moans dripping with saccharine: she couldn’t hold back any longer. Creaming on Caesar’s length with her sweet release, her pussy spasmed and clenched around him.
“Call me ‘daddy’ again, wanna hear you say it…” His grunts and faltering thrusts alluded to his approaching release. He needed that sweet voice of hers to give him what he wanted. “Tell me you belong to me.” There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.
“I-I belong to you! Oh, daddy… I love you so much…” It just slipped out, but it felt so right.
He fell forward, shoving himself even deeper at the sound of her confession. Moaning her name on repeat, he cursed at the surge of release passing through him. Forcing her against him, he pumped every last bit of ecstasy into her womb. There was no care put into the consequences; any that reared their head would be taken care of. The selfish moment of pure and utter lust raptured them, leaving them in a panting and completely satisfied mess.
After catching his breath, he pulled out of her. A groan escaped him as his sperm ran down past her clit. He leaned back to get a better look at her. There was an ache in his heart that resurfaced when she confessed to him, but it was something he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready to face.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up…” He sighed. There was affection in his tone, although the depth to it was well hidden.
---------------------
Freshly bathed and wrapped in a fluffy towel, Salem hurried out of the bathroom. Leaving Caesar to finish drying himself off. He huffed out of amusement, while her feet pitter-pattered across the tiles.
Wrapping his hair in a towel, he slowly followed her. Barely catching a glimpse before she tugged on a new dress, he at least got to watch her pulling up a clean pair of panties. The snap of the elastic sent a wave of pleasure in him. He couldn’t help smiling at her in appreciation, while she rushed out the door.
Not thinking too much of her erratic behavior, he took his time getting dressed. Humming to himself, the tune playing in his heart brought on that ache again—this time feeling much less frightening.
The light song carried him down the halls in search of her without even realizing it. A glow from below caught his eye. He couldn’t resist checking it out. If anything, catching one of his henchmen doing something they shouldn’t be doing would be the cherry on top to his birthday. However, the dark room with candles illuminating the void surrounding it was all that greeted him.
When he flipped the switch, the three he was working the closest with popped into view. Salem sprung up from behind the cake, Monet dropped from the ceiling, and Law lazily stood up from the flood. As the women cheered a jolly ‘Happy Birthday,” in unison, Law blew on his party whistle.
With Law taking a couple steps towards Salem, Caesar happily accepted the lengths they went to and quickly passed by Monet to plant himself firmly between Law and Salem. Physically being the wall between the two of them, Caesar wanted all the attention from her on him. It was his day after all.
“Did you make this yourself?” He grinned at her.
“I baked it but Monet did the decorating.” The pride Salem took in the team effort made the gesture that much more precious.
His grin widened at the both of them before calling over his shoulder. “And what did you contribute, Law?”
“Moral support.” Law blew on the cheap whistle again, getting some kind of kick out of seeing Caesar’s eye twitch.
Caesar tapped his finger on the counter. “How generous.”
“Maybe Salem and I can enjoy this cake while you two fight?” Monet’s gentle nudge for them to stop whatever feud they had worked.
Law rolled his eyes and moved to the front of the room, while Caesar crossed his arms and pouted a little.
“Aren’t you going to make a wish?” Salem’s voice drew his attention back to the celebration.
“Of course, I will.” Smiling at her, he placed his hands on either side of her. Caging her between him and the counter, he leaned over her side to blow out the flames. His wish was carried in the synthetic-scented smoke.
His eyes glanced up at Law, and narrowed at how he was staring at Salem. It made his stomach churn in a way he’d never experienced. Smirking to himself, he swiftly took her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips that was burning with passion.
When he pulled away, he leaned on the counter feeling quite pleased with himself. “A memorable birthday to say the very least.” He flattered Salem as he took a swipe of the icing and sucked it off his finger. “Looks like next year has some big shoes to fill.” His chuckle filled the room, putting only the slightest bit of pressure on Salem’s shoulders.
Having to work along side Caesar was never going to fair well for you. You were both devoted to your love of science, sure, but your morals regarding it couldn't have been more polarizing. Letting your guard down around him was one of the things you'd end up regretting the most.
CW: NSFW!!, MDNI!!, fem!reader, fingering, being experimented on, bondage, manipulation
There hadn't been any progress with this new serum in a few weeks, which was making you doubt the formulas you'd been testing out. You were determined to find the breakthrough you'd been chasing after but were weary of asking your colleauges for any assistance; their methods were a far cry from what most would consider ethical, especially their ringleader―Caesar.
Even after being ordered by your higher-ups to work alongside him in hopes of speeding up the process, you were reluctant to do so. The warm and inviting smile that was paired with friendly, open gestures seemed to always have an ominous shadow, yet this appeared to be something only you took notice in. Am I being overly judgemental towards him? Thinking to yourself, those skepticisms of his character began worming their way into your better judgement, blanketing doubt over it.
Having got lost in your conflictions, you failed to see the wolf in sheep's clothing approaching you. When you saw the bits of white cloud dissipating around your sides, you shot him a look.
Throwing his hands in the air at your glare, he tried to desfuse the hostility brewing in you, "Talk about if looks could kill! I come in peace." When your guard wouldn't fall, he added, "Promise" at the end.
Huffing at the stress he was creating for you, you impatiently asked what he wanted.
"I believe I've found the answer we've been looking for."
Spinning around, your disbelief was apparent in your line of questions, "Really? Are you sure? How can you know?"
"Oh, please don't act so surprised! Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Setting aside his slight irritation at you for lacking faith in his skill, he pressed, "But there's a problem, you see."
When you raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, "Well, usually Monet volunteers her services when it comes to testing the quality of these types of serums, but I can't seem to find her anywhere."
"And? Don't you have your lackies who would do anything for you?"
"Hm, I do but they're far too busy carrying out my many other requests."
Understanding his real purpose for bothering you, unease set in. Picking up on this, he coaxed, "This is something that we've been trying to find the answer to for so long and this could be it! We must find out if it's the key. That is what you want, isn't it? To find a solution?"
Swallowing your fears, you agreed to help him, "Fine. If it's for the greater good, then I guess I'll help you..."
"And so many will have you to thank, I'm sure of it." Grinning at you, he motioned for you to follow him.
Leading you into what looked like an operating room, he gestured for you to lay down on the table.
Hestitation was your body's way of screaming at you to turn back. However, he was quick to act before your common sense took control; he offered you his hand to help you get up on it, "Let me help you, my dear."
Your hand was shaky when placing it in his, "Easy now," he soothed your worries.
"Now," he started, "to avoid any possible injuries, I must warn that these restraints are necessary."
Nodding for him to get on with it, your heartbeat quickened as you watched him take away your capability to flee. Pulling out the syringe, he assured you, "You'll just feel a slight pinch."
You avoided eye contact with him as he stood over you, watching intently, "How do you feel?"
Focusing on any changes, you answered, "F-fine, I think."
"You think or you know? There's an obvious difference."
Glaring at him, you waited to see if there were any signals letting either of you know about the possible side effects. When you felt your body getting warm, you told him in a hitched breath.
The sides of his mouth curled into a devilish grin.
Your thighs started twitching and rubbing together. The friction was bringing on lewd urges. Remembering where you were, you immediately stopped and demanded for him to let you go.
"I'm afraid I can't do that. We wouldn't want to run the risk of you hurting yourself from any other side effects that may appear, now would we?" denying you, he seemed to be enjoying the sight of your flushed face being overtaken by dread.
His hand hovered over your inner thigh, making you grip at the sides of the table in anticipation. "What do you feel when I do this..." His grasp sent shivers throughout your body. However, when he pinched the fatty upper part, shock waves shot directly across your folds and tangled around your clit―throbbing from the sudden neglect.
"Answer me, dear."
He had just witnessed your hips bucking from his teasing, yet he had the nerve to insist on hearing you tell him. You sobbed, "Fuck you," before twinging at the new waves of sin finding their way to your now weeping cunt.
Smirking at the pathetic mess you were turning into, he taunted, "That still doesn't answer my question."
He carefully lifted your skirt, exposing the shame you were holding between your legs. His hand was hovering over you again, which caused you to squirm more in a desperate attempt to evade him.
Stopping over your drenched pussy, he slid a finger over the lips. As you threw yourself against the table and muffled your cries by biting your lower lip, the sensation became more unforgiving; he swirled the tip of his finger over your hardened pearl, chuckling to himself when this broke your silence. Your disgraceful sobs were echoing around the room, while your hips were eagerly seeking out to abandon your prior morals.
"Use your words. How do you feel?"
Completely giving into his wicked ways, you admitted to how incredible it felt.
Upon hearing this, he slipped your panties to the side and shoved his fingers deep inside your aching walls. You couldn't hold on for much longer; you bounced yourself in motion with him, calling his attention to your breasts.
Ripping your top down, he hurridly grabbed at your expossed breast, which made your shrieks shrill from the overstimulation. Practically begging for him to stop the torment, this was only inticing him to push your limits further: pinching your tender nipple, flicking it for his own sadistic pleasure to see you descend into madness under his care.
Your walls clenched around him mercilessly, barely giving him any more leverage. Making him resort to using his upper arm strength to plunge into you, he admired the sight of your swollen and reddened lips gripping his hand.
The vulgar sounds seeping out of your slit were making it hard not to involve himself any further in his experiment.
Your mewls were intoxicating: your hitched breaths and begging were laced with the most addictive narcotic. When your finale had finally been seen through, you were barely conscious―having been forced to endure such abuse of power.
Clearly satisfied with your performance, he began releasing you from your restraints.
"It would seem that I'd grabbed the wrong sample," he informed, playing it off as a simple act of carelessness. "The side effects should wear off shortly, though."
Still unable to speak properly, all you were able to muster was a distressed whimper and scowl.
