Chapter Text
Watching the thin line of black thread, connected to a fine, sharp needle that glistened red each time it exited your skin was driving you to nausea. About an hour had passed, each agonizing minute was occupied with physical discomfort. Even now, your face was contorted with pain, and by now, tears were continuously spilling from the corners of your eyes, staining your shirt and lap. This entire time, his eyes were primarily on you. Banban didn’t care if the suture came out crooked or uneven, all he cared about was the pain reflected in your face.
At one point, you had even tried to tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you, desperately wanting a break from watching the horrors of pain he was inflicting on you. But, as always, he forcefully grabbed your face and forced your gaze back onto the disgusting sight.
With all the poking and prodding, the skin around the wound had risen and became an odd shade of pink. It almost seemed to be on the verge of infection, but according to the insane mascot in front of you, it was fine.
With every sniffle you let out, and every tear that slid down your face with a tremble, Banban would speak to you in his antagonistic voice, monotonous as ever while saying things like, “Crying won’t make me stop” or “keep going, it makes this so much more fun for me.”
By hour two, he was finally done.
Giving you a sinister smile from his position in front of you, he announced lowly, “Unfortunately for me, I’ve completed the stitches. Just, allow me to disinfect it.” You blew out a sigh at this, watching with the last bit of hope in your fear-struck eyes as he tied off the string, and cut it– but not without giving it one last final tug just to watch you writhe once more. He commanded once again, “Stay. I’m going to put this away, but don’t you dare move an inch from this position.”
You nodded weakly, watching him grin at what you could only guess was the pathetic look across your features. For the moments he had disappeared into the backroom, you brought your forearm up to your face, closely looking at the shoddy work he had done. In comparison to the skillfully-done stitching on your leg, the new set looked crooked. Some of the crosses overlapped each other in a grotesque way. The raised, almost bubbly skin was creased by the tight strings shoddily holding the skin together– You couldn’t stand to look at it anymore.
Shutting your eyes, you heard his footsteps eerily making his way toward you. Upon opening them, you were met with just Banban himself. Confused, you meekly asked, “Aren’t you going to disinfect the wound?” As you didn’t see him return with a towel or any rubbing alcohol.
Banban shrugged, “Why wouldn’t I?” And, with a sadistic grin, reached out to snag your arm in his grasp, simply not caring when you screeched a protest. He forced you forward, and as you sat, halfway laying down, he made sure he was holding your arm right in front of you, putting on display as he opened his mouth to release his signature floppy tongue. Again, he brought his head down to drag his tongue across the loose blood, fairly cleaning off anything that hadn’t dried. The sensation didn’t particularly hurt, but rather made your skin crawl.
You shuddered each time his tongue came into contact with your irritated skin. And, each time he inched up on the bed, his legs now placed on either side of your quivering figure. You were completely trapped beneath his body.
Banban did as he pleased, working his tongue up and down the length of the wound, eyes growing with more lust each time you shuddered due to the unauthorized contact. His gaze darkened, and you could barely make out his low voice when he remarked, “You look so…vulnerable. I could do anything to you, and you wouldn’t be able to escape.” His words made you hiccup a cry again, and his expression continued to be sadistic, “I could tell you didn’t actually want to leave. You know there’s nothing but hallways out there. Even so, I bet you would miss me.”
His hand released your injured arm, and traveled down to a familiar place– landing right on your chest. The feeling was electrifying, as the sudden pleasure after so much pain had been multiplied due to the change. Without even waiting for you to respond, he chided again, “Oh come on, I know you would. I know I would miss making your life a living hell.”
Even though you thought what he said really didn’t mean much in terms of his feelings, you had an epiphany. While you were trapped beneath him, subject to his hands feeling your body– sides, chest, even your face… your mind drifted back to the sight you had seen on the box TV. A gray, desolate room, devoid of any furniture or anyone else. It was a regular thing for him, and for how many years? If he had been a mascot at the Garten for as long as you knew about the place, then it would have had to have been more than three, at the very least.
By now, he was drifting back to a similar position as a couple nights ago– when you had spent your first night in the old breakroom. When you had caught him feeling you in your sleep. This time, he didn’t ask for permission, fully intending on continuing the process. But, you didn’t fight, instead your eyes plastered to the ceiling, mind still caught up in the recollection of the depressing sight. He was never treated as a human, nor even given the basic necessities to live. When he was done with his duties for the day, he was holed up in a dark room– all of it seemed way too familiar to you. It was all he had ever known– it was loneliness.
Without thinking, you placed your hand on one of his horns again, gently toying with it. You murmured, “When’s the last time you felt human, Banban?”
Banban’s eyes darted up to you, a menacing look spread across his features. Before he could answer, you continued on, more sure of your words this time, “You’re just inflicting me with the same pain as they did to you. You were never treated like a real, living thing, weren’t you?” His face was contorted with confusion. Even more so as your hand slid down from his horns, to the side of his face. Keeping it there, you mumbled, “You must have been lonely all these years.”
Banban finally responded, slapping your hand away with a cross look on his face, “What do you know? Why would you even care? You and your stupid questions always make me–”
Even though his slap made your hand sting, you pushed it back against his face, insistent, “Would you let me make you feel human?”
His irritated expression faltered. Your face was growing hotter with every second, matching your netherregions. You placed your hands against his shoulders, feeling the rubber-like texture of his skin, making a mental note of the humanlike warmth that radiated off of him. You heard him shudder, “Do you even know what you’re saying?”
You allowed your abdomen to relax, laying down fully as he crawled further up the stiff bed. Now, you were completely beneath him, hair sprawled out around your head. He towered over you, a new look in his eyes.
Was it… fear? It couldn’t be. Anxiety? Maybe.
You meekly asked, dried tears making your face feel worn, “Do you… know anything about what we’re about to do?”
As if snapped out of his trance of looking down at your vulnerable position beneath him, he said, exasperatingly, “When I was just made, I remembered such things from my donor. But, that was years ago.”
You nodded, then raised your hands up to his shoulders once again, urging him downward. Confused at first, he finally understood what you were telling him to do, and leaned down fully to contact his lips with yours. While it was still one of the most awkward kisses you’d ever experienced, you felt it was necessary. In a way, it broke the barrier between the both of you.
You felt, at first, he felt stiff and tense, so you dragged your hands from his shoulder up to his– somewhat– jawline, and back down, feeling him release a bit of his tension, similarly to how he did right before you came to the old breakroom for the first time.
You could tell he was confused, and maybe even having some jitters. He was awfully hesitant when it came to slipping his (much bigger) tongue into your mouth. But, it was almost like he found himself again and jammed his tongue against yours. You whined at this action, and he growled in response, generating an interesting sensation against your mouth. Every minute or so, you would both pull away, in need of a break to gain breath again, panting against each others’ mouths. Then, you’d join contact once again and resume the intimacy, communicating in short grunts and whines.
By the time he pulled away, he was somehow looking even more red than usual. You were both panting, and, between huffs, he questioned eagerly, “...what next?”
It was an odd sight to you. Up until now, he had a strong physical power over you. But as he peered down at you, nervousness clouding his once-soulless eyes, awaiting your instruction, you realized you were seeing him in a totally new light.
Then, you had to break the question you were holding back this entire time.
“Banban…?” He peered down at you quizzically as he awaited for you to continue, “Do you–uhm, have a…” You trailed off, trying to explain with your hands, as if shy to ask.
It took him a moment to understand your embarrassed blabbering. But, when he finally caught on, his confused expression flipped to a promiscuous one. He teased you, “Out of every question you’ve asked me since you’ve been here, that’s the one you’re hesitant on?” You shrunk beneath him as he answered, “Since I was initially intended to simply entertain, there wasn’t a need for one. But, due to my human genes, my body couldn’t operate without one. I have one– just unable to reproduce. It still very much ‘works,’ though.”
He leaned back, sitting up, but still kneeling above your form, he began fumbling with himself. While he was prepping, practically right in front of your face, your face was redder than ever. Just watching him fumble with himself, eventually allowing his package to spring freely from wherever it was hidden– right in front of your face. It matched his red skin tone, save for the tip, which was just a slightly lighter shade of red.
You tensed, feeling invaded. And the only reason he gave you space was to allow you to remove the last bit of protection you had, your clothing. Not only did it guard your body, it guarded your dignity, serving as the last wall you were about to take down for him to invade.
Your heart rate was steadily increasing with each passing second, as you slipped your shirt off, still maintaining your half-laying wary of his eyes dancing across your uncovered skin. Then, came your shoes, pants, then finally…
You laid on the bed, completely on display for your captor.
The chilling feeling of his intense gaze wandering up and down your nude curves caused you to slightly quiver, blowing out a staggered sigh. The air that hit your completely exposed skin was an unfamiliar feeling, one that you had almost forgotten existed. Your heart was doing flips, whilst your heartbeat radiated in further regions, down your body.
All thoughts came to a screeching halt when you felt his hands on your thighs.
He was urging them open, awkwardly shuffling around your skin to also bask in the softness of the human feature. You inhaled sharply, preparing yourself for the short, but still very unwanted, feeling of pain that was about to come.
Banban was standing between your legs– which had been hanging off the side of the medical bed. You were shuddering, but also noticed his hesitancy. Curiously, you propped yourself up on your elbows, peering up at him with doe-like eyes, wondering what the wait was for.
He deadpanned, “Do I…?”
Your throat tightened at the realization that he was in need of your instruction. Of course, he would never directly ask you for such, but nonetheless he was indirectly hinting that he needed a push in the right direction. You delivered in a meek voice, a simple, yet feeble command, “Yes, please, put it in.” At your minimal plea, you saw the color return to his face. It seemed that he was still very much getting off on your vulnerability. His hands drifted down to your waist, grasping them to hold you in place for the next part of the process.
You felt him begin to push through your entrance, biting your lip to suppress a pent-up mewl that resided deep in your larynx. Finally, after a few moments of inching his way in, he finally found the perfect angle– just a little downwards, perpendicular to the direction of your spine. Once you found he was plunging deeper at a quicker speed, you gasped and violently grasped the sheets beneath you.
In a frail attempt to complain, you squeaked out, “Banban, maybe not so quick just yet–”
The givanium-human thrusted forward, completely letting your cavern suck him in wholly. You threw your head back, tears flying out of your eyes in pain. You didn’t care to suppress the pained moan you had pent-up the entire, aching process of him entering you.
He didn’t care that you were in pain. All he needed from you was a push in the right direction, and even when you supplied him with such, he didn’t do anything to thank you. He found his hand against the back of your head, red fingers enclosed around your locks of hair, forcing you to look up at him as he mercilessly thrusted in and out of you.
You choked on air rapidly entering your airways as you gasped when he continuously plunged in and out. The feeling of blood running down your entrance, slipping past your labia minora and staining the area between the crevice of your thigh. Tears were still spilling out of your eyes, biting down on your lip that was so hard you swore it broke the skin.
Banban’s monotone voice sounded again, only disrupted by the grunts he released each time he drove his hips forward, “That– that pained expression on your face. I love seeing you cry out of pain…” One of his hands that had been holding onto your waist came up to your face, dragging a finger up your cheek. You watched in disgust as he licked up the salty tear he collected, only further enhancing his deep, lustful expression.
Between mewls of pain, you quipped, “You’re a– a monster,” You wanted to continue, but the stinging sensation in your lower regions consumed your thoughts, “Banban, please! Slow down!”
His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. With his other hand leaving your waist, both of his hands met your shoulders, shoving you down onto the stiff surface of the bed, knocking the wind out of you. To make things worse, both his hands traveled just a bit further upward, locking in place around your neck. At first, you were stiff with fear, but soon realized that the force he was holding around your neck wasn’t anywhere near as tight as he had done before, when he first chastised you for escaping. Your heart was pounding– but not out of fear.
Instead, his repeated, violent thrusts began to hit at just the right angle. And right about now, your walls and labia had adjusted to the intrusion. Every couple thrusts caused a burst in pleasure, and you reacted by thrashing your head against his grasp, crying out with a silky moan.
Through your cries of pleasure, you heard him tease, “What now? You were just asking me to slow down.” As if to mock you, he purposely slowed his pace an immense amount, and he looked down at your feeble body, your neck still at the mercy of his grasp. Unable to form words with how badly your abdomen was burning with the desire to release, you shook your head desperately as a wordless beg for him to return to his previous speed.
His eyes practically minimized your entire being. He chuckled out, “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even form words anymore.” With that, he complied and sped up, earning pleasure-filled squeals from you. He was panting, movements sloppy and animalistic. In that moment, fuelled by pleasure and bliss, you couldn’t even remember where you were. All you could think about was Banban, reaching closer and closer to climax, as you felt the knot within your core beginning to form. Lost purely in the sensations of spiking pleasure, your hands flew up to claw on his strong, red arms that had been holding your head in place. So-much-so, that you felt your nails puncture skin, leaking a teal-colored substance onto your fingers and dribbling down his arms. His position of power over you was strong and maintained. He barely even noticed the little damage you did to his skin, and instead opted to pick up the speed, digging his hips further into you.
Drool dribbled down your chin, and your eyes were beginning to roll back. That knot in your core was readying to burst, as you were almost completely undone. Your silklike moans became louder and louder, heightening in pitch with each one that slipped past your agape lips. Due to Banban’s makeup, he was maintaining a quick speed along with strength, which brought you further to your climax.
The buildup was finally reaching a maximum. At his optimal speed and strength, you finally snapped, digging your nails further into his arm, a sensation similar to a bubble bursting in your abdomen causing you to arch your back up. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you rode out your orgasm with heavy breaths.
Banban, however, paid it no mind except for a quickening in his pace. Due to your recent orgasm, his continuation was overstimulating you. The fire in your womb was hotter than ever, and more tears spilled out of your ears as your once-silklike moans transformed into screams. As best as you could, cried out for him to stop, but this only made him groan louder as he thrusted fully in, just to pull right back out and repeat the process over and over again.
Until, just as you thought you couldn’t bear to take any more, his groans became more and more frequent. His hands released your neck and flew back onto your hips, holding you in place when he let out a final, loud grunt, expressing his overflow of pleasure in stuffing his entire dick in you. You felt warmth. Much warmth, slipping outside of you, too. The amount of time he spent in his stimulation-driven haven told you how overwhelming the feeling of an orgasm was. He had never felt one in that body, and it seemed it was a revelation to him.
Banban remained in place, hunched over you, both arms outstretched on either side of you to support his lamenting. The sides of his head were beaded with sweat, and his eyes were half-lidded and tired.
When the both of you came down from your highs, still relatively giving small, tired pants, he slipped himself out of you, fumbling with himself just as he did before, now appearing as if nothing had happened. It really made you question his design, entirely.
Your mind was hazy, eyes glazed over with tears from immense pleasure and weariness. The world was fading in and out of the darkness of sleep.
Your captor looked down at you with a certain emotion active in his eyes. He seemed brighter, somehow. Like that wall between you and him and been broken and his emotions were on full-display for you.
Once the stimulation and sensitivity had gone down, and you were finally calm again, you sat up slowly, eyes landing on his. You croaked, “Are you…leaving now…?”
Banban spoke slowly, “Yes, but rest assured I’ll be back, like always.” And, curiously enough, he bent down and scooped up your clothing, handing them to you. He turned toward the door, and turned to you one last time, sincerely speaking, “Thank you.”
The door closed behind him.
Your mind was in a whole different place as you got dressed. The sensation of him inside you, thrusting like a complete, uncontrolled animal was still fresh in your mind. You wondered if he would ever want to do it again, or if he even enjoyed it, being how abruptly he left.
You were sure he just didn’t know how to process this type of emotion or feelings, being that it was one he had never truly tapped into before. Slipping your pants back on successfully, you padded back over to the bed, but stopped in your tracks when, laying right by your feet, was the extra keycard that Nabnab had given you earlier.
Standing there, staring at it, you felt a certain graveness wash over you. The feeling was overpowering, yet familiar. That keycard, that when you had first seen it, seemed to sparkle and shine, as if it was forged in a fire fuelled by your hopes and dreams and all your motivations to escape. But, as you stared down at it, lying right there between your feet, your shadow casted upon it, it just looked like an old, scratched-up card. Like a useless sliver of plastic that served no purpose. Then, you looked to the door that Banban had just exited out of.
Escape was of little value. Besides, where would you go? If you truly ended up making it out of Banban’s Kindergarten in one piece, where would you go? Everyone thought you were dead, anyways. If you came back now, what purpose would it serve for society, as you never found your cousins in the end.
Instead, you envisioned yourself in the place that you were. Fed. Acknowledged. Alive. Pleased. That was all you needed to survive, right? In the end, what would that useless piece of plastic do you, anyways?
You kicked the stupid thing, watching it slide right through the vent opening, never to be seen again.