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Your chest heaved, eyes wide and panicked even as the shuttle doors opened into the grading chamber. The bright “A+” on the screen plucked a wave of nausea from you, the disembodied voice of Easterman covering the subtle hum of electricity.
“Very good.. You’re changing, evolving. Can you feel it? Reinventing the dream for the rest of us, opening a new path for others to walk down with triumph and pride. You’re almost perfect. So close. I can see the hesitation in you, I can feel the prying hands of perversion clinging to your punished flesh. Open yourself up to my love, let me heal you. Let me be your guide. You will heal.” Your fingers brushed against the scarred flesh of your body, shivering under the spray, blood running from the fabric of your clothes. It was impossible to tell whose blood it was- yours, a teammate, a victim. All likely prospects. Your eyes darted around the chamber, avoiding the screen and the scientist like the plague, Eastermans voice slowly becoming farther away, replaced by a high pitch ringing.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Your new room is upstairs. I had a special meal planned for you for the good performances. You will tell no one, you will share with no one. They did not earn the right. Rest now, and when you awake I trust you will be a perfect candidate for our updated program,” his voice snapped back to suffocating, the ringing cutting out almost immediately as you slowly composed yourself from the previous trial. The thought of food barely brought any joy, a nauseating uneasiness replacing the pain that once burned through you. The door opened, finally allowing you to flee from the claustrophobic confines of the evaluation chamber.
You found yourself staring at your tray, eyes unblinking with confusion, the food didn’t look any different to your knowledge. The rations were bitter, your throat tightening in protest with each swallow, yet each darting glance you spared made you look more paranoid that mayhaps Easterman decided to poison your food. Your stomach protested, hand clapping over your mouth to keep everything down. Other reagents took notice of your shaking hands and pale appearance, exchanging glances at each other with hushed whispers. It was bad enough you hadn’t had any opportunity to sleep, the constant call of the shuttle beckoning you with a demanding flash of red. Hunger and nausea clashed, the room feeling as if it was turning over, your insides twisting as if at war with itself. You choked down the rest of your food, immediately standing from the table with a wooziness that even had Dorris glancing in your direction.
“You okay?” A faceless reagent stepped towards you, their hands outstretched as if approaching a feral dog. Your vision swam, the features of everyone around you contorting, the ground rolling under your feet like waves. Vomit spilled between your fingers, eyes glancing down at the sight as the reagent stepped back, widened eyes melting into the background of colors. Fire ripped through your throat as more vomit forced its way past your palm, desperation and confusion intermingling in your gaze. Reagents scattered away from your table, sounds of disgust echoing through a tunnel to your ears. Your thoughts came sluggishly, the lights in the room getting dimmer, shadows dancing on the walls as you struggled to step forwards.
Everything moved in slow motion, your breathing slowing to a point you barely felt your chest rise and fall. The splatter of vomit hitting the floor was far away, as if you were thousands of miles away from your own body- watching. Your eyes met with Dorris for a second, your miniscule pupils meeting her average sized ones, fear and recognition forming on her face before she slowly stood, backing away from your shivering and vomiting form. Gloved hands roughly grabbed your ESOP strap, yanking you to follow like a chastised puppy, an unfamiliar masked voice cracking through the silence like lightning,
“Move it, reagent.”
The scientist dragged you away from the staring reagents, security guards standing by, watching the rest of the sleep room with hands resting on batons. Your legs buckled, knees shaking with every shuffle you desperately made in an attempt to keep up with the scientist dragging you. Your room came into view, located next to the locked gate where scientists and guards alike stalked past, only sparing passing uninterested glances when reagents got too close. Your door was shoved open, the two guards following close behind. Rough hands shoved you against your sleep room bed, your body collapsing under its own weight against the fabric.
“Doctors orders. Your medication is ready, you are to stay in your room until further notice,” the scientist approached, guards moving on you to lift you onto the bed, holding you down with ease against your trembling limbs. “Have a good night's rest,” the bite of a syringe pricking into your forearm barely registered, pain dulled as a coldness spread through your body. Pressure lessened against your limbs, the footfalls of the guards and scientist echoing in your skull. Your heart beat slowly, eyes staring wide at the ceiling as the lights went out in your room, door slamming and locking with a click. The only source of light was from the blinking projector- images painting the fabric covering your window. Your insides twisted, spasming in protest, begging to get rid of whatever you ingested. Your eyelids drooped, vomit forcing its way up your throat and past your slightly parted lips.
The crackle of the radio in your room stirred you, eyes unrolling with lids that never fully closed. The faint sound of a groan barely registered, confusion and nausea overtaking your senses. The bed felt as if it was moving, as if you were a castaway on a raft instead of grounded to the solid floor. The huff of Easterman over the radio was muted, his breathing coming in hot puffs. His words were muffled, the language sounding foreign to your drug-addled brain. The room felt cold, the walls sighing and closing in closer to the bed, hands reaching from the shadows and pulling at the sheets.
Eyes wide with fear, limbs hanging limply against the fabric, the weight of the situation dawned on you with a chilling sober reality. Black tendrils cascaded over your bed, a familiar suited figure appearing around you, the walls sloughing to reveal black sludge. The projector cracked, twisting on itself as the reel suddenly changed. The face of Skinnerman met your fearful gaze, pupils so small your irises seemed blown out. Your body slowly sat up on its own, pushed up from unseen hands tenderly running down your shoulders and slipping underneath your shirt. Images of eviscerated reagents played across the screen, close up pictures of your own face flashing across the fabric. Euphoric. Flushed cheeks. Ultimate bliss.
Easterman's low moan crackled over the radio, his voice barely above a whisper, “..open yourself to me.. Look at what you’ve done, touched by a god and you spit back in its face. The sheer audacity of someone so low.. Someone so worthless, to feel they have so much worth.. You are my best project, my perfection. All my creation..” The wet smack of flesh against flesh played through the speaker, your own disembodied moans intermingling with Eastermans in the room. Skinnerman's face closed the gap between yours, partially blocking your view of the projection reel, a long tongue sliding between rotted lips before forcing its way into your mouth.
Fingers needily grabbed at your flesh, under your clothes, hands petting across your flesh from every direction. Your throat tightened, body refusing to move as the thick appendage forced its way further down your throat- choking. Heat spread inside your body, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as the images flashed across the dark walls, images of yourself beaten and bruised- images of you reaching your climax over and over. Replaying across the whole room, the only thing that existed was you, skinnerman, and the radio. Hands tugged at your clothes, grabbing at your thighs and hips as if the mattress no longer existed underneath you.
“....ungrateful reagent… All going to waste because of you.. I should show you the extent of my love and appreciation, show how you need this to get better. You need me to get better-” the fading voice of Easterman cut through the chaos of noise swirling around you, his voice strained with lust. Pressure built in your core, the squirming sensation as if fingers were prying their way inside you. Your throat burned, the appendage worming its way deeper as if reaching for your very core, multitude of eyes honing in on your unblinking ones. Dominance and control. The projector spun as if it came to life, spewing black ooze with tendrils coiling around the reel.
Images distorted, your face becoming less and less familiar, the sounds of your own moans warping into indistinguishable screams. Blood dripped from Skinnerman's face, his eyesockets now hollow with bright pinpoint white staring from the abyss. You wanted to scream, wanted to rip away from the hands grabbing at you, do anything to prove you could move, you had some form of control. Fire erupted in your chest, lungs screaming for oxygen as you suffocated on the tongue wriggling its way through your body. Tendrils extended from the sludge-like walls, wrapping around your neck and yanking tight as if you were a hanged man waiting at the gallows.
Images flashed across the walls, Eastermans sweat covered brow, shadows obscuring his pallid flesh, hand moving roughly against his stiff cock. The disheveled suit, strands of hair messily cascading from his head, mouth slackjawed and open. His eyes gleamed from the shadows, white pinpoints meeting yours and it was as if time stopped. The images danced across the room, all the same, yet it was as if you were staring at each other- like you were in the same room.
“I can see you.. God I can see you.. An enigma, infinite wisdom and power, I am one with you,” his voice shook over the radio, his groans getting louder and more frequent as his continued stroking himself. Your eyes met with Skinnerman, the white pinpoint pupils staring back as more blood poured from the multiple hollow sockets, blood pouring from its agape mouth and coating your lips and throat. Easterman's image danced across the room, his eyes settling on yours as if he was staring through skinnerman- and you staring back. His features distorted, tendrils sprouting from his head- the images slowly merging into one, layering themselves over Skinnerman's face until all you could see was him. The sound of Easterman's climax over the radio was deafening, liquid spilling in your throat and choking you further.
Your body jerked, vomit spilling from your throat and onto the floor over the side of the bed, the projector still running with pictures you barely remembered, but seemed familiar. Your radio crackled, an eerie whine playing from it. The room looked normal, skinnerman nowhere to be seen, yet the phantom touches still remained, your body buzzing with alight nerve endings. The darkness of your room threatened to engulf you, pulling you back into whatever the hell that was you just experienced. Each gasping breath only proved you were still alive, your limbs feeling as if they were filled with lead.
“I hope you slept well,” Easterman's voice sliced through the silence, the radio crackling even louder than before, “did you enjoy your meal?”
Your head slowly turned towards the direction of the sound, lip trembling slightly as you mulled over your thoughts. Could he even hear you through the radio? How did he know you were awake, you hadn’t moved from your bed. Your eyes darted around the room, pitch black staring back at you except for the occasional flash of white from the projector.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or maybe something else. Why don’t you tell me about it? I care about you afterall, in fact I think it’s time you understand the extent of our love. How much care we put into looking after you,” panic laced its way around your throat, “in fact, I could be in your room with you. You would barely be able to know. The drugs in your system are working so profoundly even I’m impressed at my work. I didn’t expect you to be the type to vomit so violently though, I’m glad the intravenous injection was still successful. You understand, I’m sure, it has to be done.” The words sounded like they were coming from around the room once again, blood pounding in your head- your heart beating overwhelmingly fast. The door jiggled slightly, a loud pound from outside making you jolt.
“Strip your soul bare in front of me. Prove your devotion, let God inside of you,” Another pound against the door, this time louder, more aggressive. Tendrils crept in the corners of your vision, your legs failing to respond to any tries of movement. The radio crackled louder, static blaring through it with a deafening frequency. The pounding became frequent, the door rattling against its hinges with repeated mantras, black tendrils worming their way through the dark, each flash of the projector illuminating the sheen of wetness on their form.
The click of a lock silenced the room, tendrils dissipating into thin air, the radio becoming silent, and your own breathing halting. The door slowly slid open, the light of the sleeproom hallway spilling in for mere seconds, a figure stepping into the room with even, slow steps. The door slowly swung shut, enveloping the room in darkness once again. Adrenaline coursed its way through your body, heart hammering against your ribcage as you laid back in the bed- unable to get yourself to move again. Slow footsteps approached your bed, fingertips brushing against your exposed forearm.
“There’s my little how-high..” A sigh slipped past his lips at the end of his sentence, a sickeningly sweet tone contrasting with the mounting fear that enveloped you. “Hush, I know. You’re pumped full of so many benzos I’m shocked you haven’t induced respiratory failure yet, but you’re awake. I did not expect you to be awake, coated in your own vomit and spittle. You’re a pathetic sight right now, you’re lucky you can’t see what I’m seeing. You know. I don’t quite understand what they see in you, maybe it’s the fact you’re easy. Easy to get to. Easy to prey on. That’s all you are- prey. You should be a predator,” a deep inhale, the sound of clothes shifting as he bent closer to your lying form, shadowed face getting closer to your chest and neck, “I don’t think you want to be. You relish in relinquishing control. You don’t want to be in control. I can understand, making all the decisions- it’s tough. Most people aren’t built for it. Yet your mind perseveres, untouched. Unraveling, but untouched. I want to be the one to unravel the rest of you, work out what really will turn you into a perfect vessel.”
Fingers trailed past the delicate flesh of your throat, brushing hair from your face, before a wet tongue ran across your cheek, licking across your lips. Your throat tightened, clamping shut as any noise you tried to make fell short before your lips. The ghost of a grin formed on his face, his head pulling away in favor of resting against your abdomen like you were a longstanding lover of his. His nose buried into the fabric of your clothes- another deep inhale. Instinctively you wanted to press yourself into the mattress, fingers twitching slightly in irritation. This was just a man, nothing compared to the experimental population. Anger lit under your fear, boiling heat spreading through your limbs.
His hand traveled up your chest, undoing the leather straps of your ESOP in favor of pulling the large contraption off you, blissfully unaware of the building rage coursing under your flesh. Your eyes glanced around the room, watching as tendrils snaked their way across the floor, creeping closer with quick movements. Easterman's face traveled lower, his nose pressing against your clothed sex, drinking in your scent as if it were intoxicating. His body shuddered slightly, fingers flexing against the fabric of your clothes. His eyes opened, the flash of the projector letting you get a better look at his features while loomed over your body- his eyes looked dark, much darker than normal. The reflection of light off his pupils was a stark contrast to your own, his pupils engulfing his iris as yours were shrunk to needlepoint.
Fingers twitched again, tendrils curling around the digits in favor of allowing them to curl further until a fist was made. His hand shifted, blissfully unaware once again as he lost himself in your scent, as if relishing in your inability to move. Safety. Control. A familiar coolness coated your hand, a suited arm phasing from the mattress in tandem with your pose, skinnermans head rising from behind you on the bed, staring down at you with white pinpoints. Rotted flesh fell from his skull, multitude of eyes boring holes into your paralyzed form.
“You’re beautiful.. Stunning. Getting this close to a subject such as yourself, I can finally try to understand the totem you hold. Your unyielding grip of lust you seem to bring about with your very being. The temptation..” Easterman trailed off, hand traveling to palm at his stiffened cock through the fabric of his pants. His free hand pulled the fabric of your shirt, easily shredding the already destroyed fabric from your previous trial.
Skinnermans face dipped closer to yours, his mouth opening over yours, fingers pinching your jaw to open your mouth as black sludge poured from the orifice. Bitterness coated your tongue, your body demanding to gag as you choked down the onslaught of liquid. Tendrils coiled around your limbs, straightening as if strings pulling taut- your limbs feeling lighter than air. Your leg twitched slightly, an involuntary movement that didn’t seem to bother Easterman in the slightest.
“What is your totem.. What exactly is it that allures others to you? Your body is teasing, a distraction from what lies beneath. How many barriers can you put up to hide what I’m trying to see,” his gaze shifted to your face, completely oblivious to the rotted corpse of Skinnerman looming over your head, “I must know all of you.”
His breath was hot, body shuddering as he drank in the sight of you shirtless. Fingers outstretched, brushing lightly against your nipples and smirking as they hardened from the sudden touch. His head lowered, tongue running along the sensitive flesh. The sound of his zipper coming undone sparked more anger in you, your eyes burning as you stared down at the pathetic man looming over you. He had to drug you, effectively paralyze you, almost put you into a sleep paralysis state- just for this. Your gaze shifted, favoring to stare into Skinnermans eyes, a silent plead, a silent understanding.
Skinnermans arms laid over your own, tendrils coiling around your legs and straightening once more, disappearing into the darkness of the room. Your muscles twitched, spasming as if life was breathed into them. Skinnermans face once more closed the gap between your faces, this time as if mocking a lovers embrace- rotted lips and teeth pressed against yours, tendrils from his skull reaching to bury into your flesh, blood pooling from his mottled flesh and dripping down from the tendrils.
Your hand lifted, limbs feeling lighter now with a strange clarity- anger. If this was what he wanted, this was what he would get. Fingers furled in thin strands of hair, the sharp inhale of surprise mixing a sick joy in your chest. Your gaze lowered back to Easterman, watching the flash of white occasionally light up parts of his now fear-stricken face as you slowly sat up in the bed. Every muscle screamed in your body, the feeling of tendrils plucking at each muscle like a marionette almost making you queasy.
“H-how.. You shouldn’t be able to.. That dosage was enough to put down a full grown man-” his hands shot towards your own, grabbing at your wrist, “let go of me, you’re nothing. You’re just a-” With a swift tug, you yanked his head back, legs shifting in a way to allow you to crouch on the bed, looming your face over his.
“You..” Your voice was shaky, a bitter taste coating your mouth as a black sludge slipped from your lips- his eyes widening in awestruck fear. Skinnermans eyes danced in your vision, white pinpricks stripping the scenery before you, Eastermans trembling form, bent haphazardly over the side of the bed and partially your lap.
His lips parted, hands shakily reaching towards your face- “I can see it.. I can see you.. You have it.. The light, it's as if the sun itself is shining through you.. Let me bear witness, I’m worthy, please-” the persona he so often put on crumbled under your gaze, the looming aura of Skinnerman like a ghost behind your eyes. His own drug induced psychosis was intermingling with your own, your lips suddenly crashing against his. The sound of his gag was music to your ears, the bitter taste of your tongue coating the inside of his mouth. Diseased.
Your mouth tore away from his, fingers relinquishing his thin hair in favor of hooking into the collar of his suit. His body was lighter than you expected, yet part of it you assumed was him allowing you to pull him where you wanted. He easily allowed you to guide him lower, his now kneeling form next to the bed allowing you to swing your legs over his shoulders.
“You seemed to enjoy taking in my scent, why not indulge in a taste, doctor?” Your voice dripped with malice, anger furling itself in each word as fingers curled around his tie- yanking him up closer to between your thighs. His hesitant gasp barely gave you any satisfaction, your upper body slowly lowering closer to his body. “You were so talkative earlier, what happened? Are you scared of a little ol reagent?” A laugh barely escaped past your lips, dark and dry.
“I see it now..” Was all he mumbled before his fingers made quick work of pulling off your pants, his eyes half lidded as he buried himself into your thighs, biting desperately at the scarred flesh. Your free hand settled on the back of his head, spreading your legs open more as you continued to watch him. Every inhale, every bite, every hesitant glance up at you didn’t go unnoticed, even as he buried his face in your cunt you simply watched with burning eyes.
His tongue moved against your clit, messy and desperate movements- almost animalistic. Your body responded in tandem, blood rushing to your clit as pleasure shot through your nerves. Your thighs tightened around his head, calves hooking over each other as you locked him against your folds. Tendrils sprouted from the darkness surrounding you both, coiling around your chest with a comfortable tightness. A sigh escaped you, your own lack of noise easily being made up by the sounds of easterman lapping at your folds. He was far from quiet, his pathetic groans barely masked as he lost himself in you.
“If you touch yourself I’ll choke you with your own tie, understand?” The harshness of your words cut through the thick lust cloud in his brain, his hands shakily moving to rest against your outer thighs- desperate to prove his innocence. A hum of approval was all you gave in return, your heel digging into his back. His form arched, his neglected cock leaking precum and twitching as you ground further into his back- his face getting smashed against your cunt. Slick smeared across his face, his tongue curling against your folds and circling your clit. The projector clicked, tendrils coiling around the reel once more as both of your delusions blended more. Images flashed across the walls, the room bleeding and melting into streaks of greys and blacks.
Skinnermans form was like a shadow looming over you, yet you could still see him behind Eastermans knelt form, skeletal hand pressing his head further into your folds, empty sockets boring into your own. Your orgasm suddenly tore through you, thighs squeezing around Eastermans head without care for the man suddenly pulling at your thighs. You rode out your orgasm, grinding against his face chasing the white hot pleasure that quelled the burning anger deep in your chest. Your thighs finally opened, legs unlocking as he fell back, eyes wide with slick coating his face and chin. With a quick movement, your foot made contact with his shoulder, kicking him onto his back on the floor.
You rose from the bed, watching as he squirmed in a desperate attempt to watch you and the Skinnerman that was looming over you like a puppetmaster.
“This is God…” he rambled off, suit completely disheveled and partially open as you knelt over him, hand and tendrils moving in tandem to pull at his suit pants. His cock twitched once again, precum leaking and dripping down his shaft in anticipation- desperate for some form of touch. Your fingers wrapped around the head of his cock, thumb making small circles around the tip, Easterman's head lolling back, exposing the thin flesh of his neck.
Your teeth dug into the flesh before you had a moment to think, blood pooling around your now embedded canines and incisors. The way he twitched in your hand, his body spasming underneath you and the breathy moan it was clear that he completely lost control. You were in power. You held the power. Your own arousal dripped down your thighs, cold tendrils nestling themselves against your folds as you ground your hips- desperate for any form of friction. Precum leaked against your fingers as you slowly stroked down his shaft, setting a painfully slow pace. Easterman's hands grabbing at your shoulders, conflicted on whether to pull you away or pull you closer with your teeth still sunk into his flesh.
The answer came quick enough as your now slick fingers abandoned his cock in favor of pushing two of your fingers inside him, the ring of muscle thick against your fingers. His fingers dug into you as he made a guttural sound, pulling you closer to him. Complete submission. Your fingers curled inside him, searching for the sensitive spot that’d have him coming undone on your fingers. The slickness of tendrils intermingling with your fingers only worked to spur you on, your movements becoming rougher. You relinquished his neck with a wet pop, frenzied eyes searching for his face among the dancing images on the walls once more.
His head lifted, mouth searching for yours as he kissed at your face blindly, finally landing on target as you caught his lips with yours. Hands pressed at your chest, pinching at your nipples, as another hand guided your free hand back to Easterman’s length. The feeling of Skinnerman was unmistakeable, his influence on both of you only pushing you both further from sanity. Your fingers curled, hitting that sweet spot just right as Easterman jolted, his mouth opening to allow your tongue access to his mouth. The taste of cigarettes was easily overrun by the metallic bitterness of his own blood.
He was the first to break the kiss, his breathing coming in quick puffs as he rambled, breath hot against your flesh with how close he stayed to you, “so close.. Just like that, yes..” His tone was laced with desperation, his hips trying desperately to move to match both of your hands movements. Your walls clenched at the sudden shift in dynamic, sweat shimmering on both of your flesh, his suit effectively destroyed from the rough handling and fluids soaked into the fabric. Your movements stalled, watching how he paused at the sudden lack of stimulation.
“Why..” Confusion laced into his words, the question trailing off as you pulled your hands away from him, his hands tugging at you in desperation to pull you back to him. How pathetic he appeared, disheveled, sweaty, and coated in his own precum. The smirk that tugged at your lips mocked him, the way his brows furrowed, lips slightly parted with each panting breath.
“Oh well, I’m experimenting, doctor. You understand, don’t you?” The sweetness in your voice rivaled his own, the fake kindness dripping from your form as you crawled over him, hands roughly shoving his back flush against the floor before he could muster a response. Your hips hovered over his own, your fingers moving to spread open your folds as you watched his expression change. You didn’t think his pupils could get any larger, yet you were proven wrong as you hovered yourself over his length- teasing, beckoning him. Shaking hands reached for your hips, only to be met with a harsh slap. The hiss of pain from him had you clenching around air- disappointing emptiness in your cunt.
Your palm met with his cheek with a sickening slap, your palm stinging as he moved his hand to his cheek in shock- surprise etched into his eyes. Your hips slowly lowered, choosing to grind against the shaft of his cock instead of enveloping him completely in your soaked cunt.
“That won’t get you anywhere, doctor,” you cooed, hands pulling his suit shirt open completely, your own naked flesh pressing against his, “you need my permission.” His breath hitched, nails raking down his exposed chest with enough force to draw blood. Black tendrils curled against Easterman's burning cheek, pressing against his lips- forcing their way between his lips and into his mouth. Skinnerman's twisted form hovered over you both, tendrils stretched taught from the darkness, attached to the tangled mass of limbs between yourself and Easterman. His jaw went slack, a low groan barely escaping past the intrusive tendril, your hips grinding down against his cock with a teasingly slow pace.
Skinnerman's hands gripped your hips, grinding you down harshly against Easterman, the decayed head looming over your shoulder in favor of staring down at Easterman. Easterman's hips spasmed, bucking against your folds, hands scrambling to wrap around you- effectively trapping you between himself and Skinnerman. The shaking moan he let out had your knees weak, ropes of cum spraying onto his abdomen and smearing onto your own flesh. The rush of disappointment was expected, the desire to get him begging and squirming underneath you seemingly unobtainable, yet you still couldn’t help how you wanted to hurt him. Take out every aggression on the man clinging to you like a lifeline, all for your own enjoyment. Sharp canines dug into the tender flesh of his chest, your hips continuing to grind against him even after he came down from his climax with overstimulated twitches.
It didn’t take much to pull away from him, his limbs completely relaxed as he laid back on the floor. Your eyes traveled down to his cum covered abdomen, fingers smearing it up to his chest to mix with the beads of blood from the bite you left. Slick digits lifted from his chest, watching with lustful breaths as the mixture strung between your fingertips and his hot flesh. You shifted on top of him, sliding back so you had easy access to between his thighs again. Slick fingers easily slid inside of him, the wet sounds of him easily accepting your fingers making a dark red flush spread across Easterman's face.
“Oh how I wish I could fuck you,” the words tumbled from your lips, borderline rambling to yourself as you watching him squirm under your touch, “laying here with a lowly reagent, letting me finger your ass like some disgusting deviant. You sit there and spout your holier-than-thou filth at us when you’re just as bad. You’re disgusting. Pitiful. Pathetic. Beg me to fuck you, tell me how good my fingers feel inside of you.” He clenched around your fingers, the tendril once in his mouth dissipating into the dark, his mouth left agape with drool dripping from his lip.
You sneered as you spit on his cheek, “coked up and can’t even speak. I’m not surprised. You’re barely a fucking doctor. Just a madman looking for false gods under the guise of narcissism.” Skinnerman's hands ran over your shoulders, massaging into the sore tissue before traveling down, the cold fabric of his suit pressing into your back- pressing through you. Easterman could barely meet your gaze, half-lidded and dazed with pleasure he stared up at your form, drinking in how Skinnerman seemed to stand in your shadow. To be touched by a God.
Black tendrils cascaded down your hips, completely covering your slick folds in favor of pushing inside of you without warning. Your movements stuttered, fingers pulling out of Easterman with the assistance of Skinnerman guiding you. Ethereal hands pushed your hips closer to Easterman, black tendrils extending from your hips in favor of sliding inside of the already overstimulated man.
Your hips bucked as if you could feel the way his walls clenched against the tendrils. Easterman's once partially softened cock was hard again, whatever refractory period he usually had overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimulation. Shaking hands reached out, pulling you closer as Skinnerman pushed you further against the trembling man. Your hands grabbed at his hips, yanking them up to better thrust into him. He barely had the strength to pull himself up to cling to you, legs and arms wrapping around you, desperately clinging as if trying to ground himself. His mumbling was incomprehensible, words tumbling from his lips that sounded like half prayers and half begging. Skinnerman loomed over you both, hands traveling to lift Easterman’s head, holding him in a way that allowed you better access to see his blissed out expression.
Tendrils curled against your walls, thrusting inside of you in tandem with your own hip movements. More precum leaked down his shaft, smearing against your abdomen as you bounced him on your lap. His moans were messy and loud, drool dripping onto you as Skinnerman pushed long fingers into Easterman's mouth. His lips closed around the digits greedily, any care of his image long lost in chasing his own pleasure. Your walls clenched around the tendrils, hips stuttering with each movement.
Easterman clenched around the tendrils, a pained groan getting plucked from his throat- the coldness of his fluids coating your abdomen barely enough to cool your hot flesh. Your own orgasm rapidly approached, a familiar tightness in your core spreading a euphoric warmth through your limbs. Easterman crumpled against you, Skinnerman’s body stepping aside in favor of hovering over Easterman, disembodied hands pulling Easterman's limp head back, his mouth falling open as a familiar black ooze dumped from Skinnerman’s mouth into Eastermans. Your own body spasmed, orgasm tearing through you with enough intensity to lock your muscles once more, eyes rolling back and meeting the gaze of bright white pinpoints. Images flashed across the walls of the room, your own flushed face staring up at the ceiling, Easterman’s blissed out expression painted next to yours. Your mouth found itself opening, Skinnerman’s sudden appearance over your own face barely snapping you from your pleasure filled high. Blood welled up from hollow sockets, a similar bitter ooze filling your nose and throat as you choked.
“Doctor, are you alright in there? We couldn’t find you in your office and all we had to go off of was some guards saying they sa-” the door burst open to the sight of you both slumped against each other in a twisted embrace. His eyes remained half lidded, pupils blown wide in stark contrast to your pinpoint pupils and dazed expression. Bodily fluids coated both your bodies and discarded clothes. Your body seized underneath him, lungs failing to pull in oxygen as your body gave in to the concoction of drugs you were given, vision going as soon as light flooded the room.
“Oh-shit, someone grab the atropine, I don’t know if either of them are breathing. Quickly! What the fuck..” The disembodied voice of a man you didn’t recognize was all you heard as you slipped out of consciousness, a familiar cold embrace creeping around your body as if welcoming you back home.