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The flick of a single plain switch had sickly yellow bulbs lighting up in a row, pouring fans of amber light onto dingy steel walls, floors, and eerily obtrusive tables, all empty, evenly spaced between each dangling light. The room was long and slim and cold, intentionally so, a slight breeze coming from somewhere unidentifiable. It was dry. Dry in a way that sucked the moisture out of one's mouth, like an icy desert. And for once, it was silent.
Breaking the silence were two pairs of footfalls, confident, and a distinct lack of any robotic movement as the heavy iron door swung shut behind them. They took their time approaching the first table, the one that was different from the rest. The long line of tables that followed it had been outfitted with simple metal wrist cuffs and not much else, and were tightly packed together to best utilize the space, but this one had been deliberately set apart from the rest. It was polished clean and featured nine leather straps, bolted firmly into the metal. It sat horizontal with the arrows on the attached electronic controller dimly throbbing red.
"Do you want to undress first this time?" The doctor asked his companion, who was already pulling off his coat. Neither of them were in a rush. The moment was intimate, warm despite the chill in the air, and though they had only had the opportunity to do this a few times before, it was familiar.
"I'll get things ready," he added, setting the aluminum tray he carried in down on a small table next to the larger one, on the same side as the control panel. It was the only one of its kind in the room, there to serve a very specific purpose. Part of that purpose was holding meticulously folded clothing; jacket, vest, shirt, tie, trousers, and a pair of gloves. Nudity was not something that bothered him, judging by the way he slid onto the large table and lounged on it, blinking slowly at the doctor while he prepared the implements he brought in with him.
Two syringes. Scalpels. Scissors. Mostly for show, but the fact that he knew how to use them effectively was enough to add a genuine element of danger that excited them both.
"Care to help, Doctor?" Black Hat purred, beckoning him with a single crooked claw. "I can't strap myself down, you know."
"Yes, Jefecito." Flug's hand hovered over one of the syringes for only a moment before turning and taking a step, approaching his boss. It was no longer unusual to see him like this, beneath him, eye lidded as he lay back, still inviting him over with a hand -- Flug took this as a note to lean down and kiss him, pushing up the bottom edge of his mask just enough to press their lips together. He couldn't resist letting his gloved fingertips caress Black Hat's face, despite being unable to feel his skin.
"You're wasting time." Black Hat pulled back until his head hit steel. "I'm becoming impatient."
"I can't help myself," Flug replied quickly, then inhaled -- relax. He regained his composure. "You tempt me."
"Temptation, the eighth deadly sin!" He was chuckling despite having his legs held down by the straps that Flug was carefully fastening, running his hands along bare skin as he did. One at each ankle, one at each thigh; wrists, upper arms, leaving the single odd strap across the jugular unfastened. He took his time. Black Hat was lying when he said he was impatient. He was simply excited.
The moment that neck strap was to be fastened, things would change. It was the signal of the start of the scene, and Flug wanted to savour how things were now; the affection, the way it was (dare he say) romantic between the two of them, Black Hat's eyelid fluttering as he was touched gently on the insides of his pinned thighs, his sides, his collarbone. No one else got to see him like this.
"You're breathtaking, sir," Flug said, very gently sliding his hand between thighs that remained forced together by the restraints. He longed to have more than just his hands in that tight, warm space; a desire that was not just wistful but physically impossible. But he desired it all the same, even more when he could see the tip of a tentacle peeking through Black Hat's thin slit; already aroused despite minimal foreplay. It was a boost to his ego, knowing he did that himself, without having even taken his gloves off.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Black Hat hummed in response, squirming in his restraints to get more comfortable. "But you had better cut that shit out once we've started."
"Of course." He dared not touch Black Hat's visible arousal. Not yet. He didn't like to be touched this soon.
"Come on now. You've brought your toys in here with us, it would be a shame for them to go unused." Black Hat nodded towards the sterile tray on the table to Flug's right.
"Yessir," Flug said, and that was the last respectful thing he'd utter as he pinned his boss's neck down.
"I've been looking forward to this," the doctor said coolly, standing up straight and wringing his hands. His victim was giving him a hot, stony gaze that he could feel beneath his skin, crawling outwards and threatening to burst through. "How does it feel to be rendered helpless by a mortal ?"
"I'm far from helpless, scum." The doctor rolled his eyes at the reply. "I can break away any time I want. I'm indulging you."
"Then break away." A press of the glowing red arrow on a keypad had the table tilting vertically, until the creature he held captive was positioned as if it were standing, still completely immobile but now accessible without having to bend over. The doctor had plans. He pressed fingertips into his victim's throat, avoiding gnashing teeth, and pressed, feeling strange, alien veins pulse even through his glove. He dearly wanted to dissect his quarry.
It grunted, the beast, pulling at its restraints to no avail. Trapped, the doctor saw its pupil narrow.
"Interesting," he said, and pulled away the glass monocle, the penultimate piece of clothing, second only to the namesake Hat. "You don't need this, right?"
He caught only a glimpse of the eye beneath squinting before it shut, fixing its visage in a wink that was almost silly, if not for the massive fangs it flashed at him every time his hands crept near. He set the monocle down on the table next to his surgical tray, where he paused -- was it too soon? One of the syringes caught his interest, and when he looked back at his victim, it appeared to be looking at the same thing. There was a thin bead of sweat on its brow.
"I hope you'll be cooperative," the doctor said, deciding to leave his tools for now. "I wouldn't want to have to resort to any… unsavory practices."
"You won't get what you want out of me," it growled in a tone that should have been fearsome, but wasn't in light of the beast's unfortunate position. "I'll bite your fucking fingers off."
"You can try," the doctor chuckled, carefully examining its naked body. It was strangely humanoid, but the doctor knew this to be a ruse; beneath its skin it was anything but human. It only feigned human anatomy, and as he felt along pectorals, even through rubber he could feel squirming under its facsimile of skin, like there were worms filling its chest cavity. It was disgusting. Freakish. Its breathing stuttered the more the doctor touched, and he begun doing it less for analysis and more for his own amusement, to see the way its eye's pupil narrowed and widened, to see gritted teeth, to see fists clench. And oh, there was a hint of involuntary arousal; evidently this species used violence as courtship.
(Flug glanced up at Black Hat's face while he touched him, and Black Hat said nothing, but lidded his eye in a way that silently said "please, continue".)
"...How curious," said the doctor, both to himself and his quarry. "That you seem to be enjoying this."
"You're disgusting," it spat back, saliva sizzling on his mask. "You call yourself a doctor? You're a pervert."
"Perhaps." He paused, tilting his head to look at the strange appendage. He'd never seen anatomy like this before. Was this part of it not shapeshifted like the rest?
"Don't you fucking dare."
He ignored it. Its threats were empty; there was nothing it could do while he had it pinned like this. They both knew that. When he touched the very tip of what appeared to be a tentacle, the creature's entire body shuddered under the restraints.
"Oh, isn't that nice!" The doctor wasn't able to hide the delight in his voice. "Very… Healthy reaction."
"Fuck you," it breathed in response, teeth gritted and eyes screwed shut.
"I'll think about it." Two fingers caressed the underside. "Have you got more in there?"
"You'd like to fucking know." More squirming. Futile, of course.
"I would, but you're being uncooperative." Pulling his hand away, the doctor opted to do something he never did during experiments or examinations; he took off one of his gloves. Just the one. He needed to investigate things from a tactile perspective, and doing so through rubber would prove ineffective.
"I dare you to touch me again," his victim growled. "Get near my mouth. I dare you."
"Not yet," he replied, feeling that strange, writhing chest again. The skin felt warm beneath his fingertips, warmer than any human, and the texture was indescribable. He'd have to do more research.
"Coward."
The doctor glanced up at his victim's face.
(Black Hat's eye twitched. He was getting impatient. But he knew to wait for a good thing; Flug never disappointed him, at least not here.)
There was something in its gaze that may have been fear, the same fear in a predator's eyes when it realized it was outnumbered and outmatched. Primal; the predecessor to fight or flight. In this case, it appeared to want both, judging by the hungry look it gave the doctor anytime he moved his hands closer to its mouth. He was going to have to be careful to avoid being bitten, but luckily he had prepared for that.
"You're giving me no choice," he sighed, and he was squinted at as his still-gloved hand grasped one of the syringes sitting in the metal tray next to him. He inspected it carefully. The liquid inside was a dull green. He hoped it would be enough to help him to deal with an angry beast.
When he turned back, the emotion in his victim's eyes were tenfold, and it was straining against its bindings. But glancing down he could see that what he might have called a penis was fully unsheathed from the body and leaving thin trails of fluid on ashen grey legs.
"Are you enjoying this?" He scoffed, placing his bare hand in the middle of the monster's chest and scratching lightly with neatly-filed nails. "Looks like at least one part of you is."
"You're fucking sick," was the snarled response. "Were I not bound, our positions would be reversed."
"I'm sure." The doctor brought the syringe to its neck.
(It was a simple mixture; just saline and a body safe, injectable dye. The other syringe was the same, but included a mild sedative that, if used, would just make Black Hat groggy; Flug only planned to use that one if Black Hat indicated he wanted it. He had a feeling that his boss just preferred to pretend he was doped up, like the true thespian he was.)
"What are you doing?" Even with limited range of movement, those teeth were dangerously close to the doctor's hand, and he would have to be careful. "I won't stop at your fingers. I'll bite your entire fucking hand off."
"Feisty." The doctor pressed the pointed tip of the needle into its throat. His prey sucked in a sharp breath and its pupil slitted like a cat's.
Pressing down the plunger, he watched, smiling as the beast struggled, then relaxed, exhaling slowly as the needle was removed from its skin.
"How do you feel?" He hummed, dropping the used syringe back on the tray.
"Fffuuuuuhh," was the slurred response. Head hung, body still, it finally relaxed. It would be much easier to do research this way.
"Isn't that better?" Sliding his hand down, down, and finally cupping that strange tentacle, the only reply he got was a shudder. Good. "I prepared two doses of sedative thinking I would need it. Are you this weak that you only need half of what I anticipated?"
All he got was an icy glare from beneath a stiff brow. No biting commentary. Testing its resolve, the doctor slid his hand back, palming the base and exploring further back with two of his fingers. Somewhat foolish to do with bare hands but he couldn't resist; it appeared to be entirely self-lubricating and he wanted to examine the fluid accurately -- with his skin. Though his victim's legs were held together by thick straps he was still able to fit his thin hand between tense thighs, and he had to concentrate to consider what he was feeling. There was an opening there, behind the thin membrane connecting the tentacle to the body, and there was absolutely no hesitation as he slipped in two fingers, easily, getting a soft growl in response.
"....Interesting," the doctor uttered for the second time today, crooking his fingers in deeper. He felt the thigh muscles around his hand twitch. He looked up.
(Black Hat was giving him a smouldering gaze. His lips were parted just slightly, and there was a thin line of drool on his chin. He very rarely allowed himself to be penetrated, likely because of how quickly it had him coming undone. Flug hadn't even bothered asking for permission, and he could tell by the way he was being watched that that was perfectly fine. Pushing each others' boundaries is what they did.)
"I'll kill you," the captive creature slurred, its voice many voices struggling to come together. Its claws scraped against the steel table, eliciting a sound that was far from pleasant. "I'll kill you and fuck your corpse."
"Will you?" said the doctor, adding a third finger and pressing deeper, resisting the urge to touch himself with his other hand. "Break free, then. Kill me, fuck me, in whatever order you like."
"Ngh," was the response, followed by gnashing teeth. The doctor had no idea if his victim was drooling voluntarily or involuntarily but its chin was covered in acid-green saliva, identical in colour to the lubricating fluid currently soaking his hand. It made getting as deep as his fingers could reach easy, and he tentatively worked them apart, watching as this monster, in a way that was distinctly human, quirked its eyebrows and twitched against its own will, teeth now gritted.
"You're enjoying this," he purred, bringing his face closer to his captive's, hoping to get a peek at that one closed eye. "You pretend like you aren't, but your body belies your little act. You've taken three of my fingers this easily and I can tell you want more."
He was met with a glare that had him smirking.
"Do you want to be fucked that badly? It's a shame you aren't cooperating. I'd be happy to restrain your legs in…" he paused, glancing down and seeing that tentacle writhing. "...a more convenient position. For me to do my work."
"Fucking sick."
"Maybe. But I think you like that." With his gloved hand, he grasped the tentacle at the base and tugged on it. His victim moaned, obviously trying to hold it in. "I'm enjoying this too, you know. The chance to study something like you? My colleagues will be envious as hell."
"Mmh." Its thighs were trembling now, and it was glancing back and forth between the doctor's hands and face.
"I have so much more research I want to do."
(It was actually difficult to resist indulging himself here; Flug was incredibly tempted to get his mouth on Black Hat's exposed neck, or to be bitten by those teeth, or even to just tug down his jeans and grind against his boss's thigh -- but this wasn't for him. Not this time. This was for Black Hat, whose sharp claws clicked against the table, whose thighs clenched around Flug's hand, whose squirming arousal was already overstimulated, judging by the way it was already starting to stiffen in his grasp. Seeing him come apart like this was one of life's greatest pleasures, and he wouldn't soil it by getting his own arousal involved.)
"F-Fuck your research," was the terse response.
"Maybe I will fuck my research," the doctor said, crooking his fingers inside his victim the same way he'd likely be doing to himself later. He got a choked noise in return. "Maybe I'll keep my research tied up to use whenever I want."
His captive shuddered. Its breathing was laboured, chest heaving, and surely by now it had accepted its fate. Unable to move, unable to break free.
"Sadist," it breathed, defeated. Its eyelids fluttered with one particularly skilled thrust and the doctor saw only the smallest amount of its hidden eye. Were his hands not occupied, he would pry it open by force.
Perhaps next time.
"Is that supposed to be an insult? Or are you done fighting me?" The doctor's comment was met with his fingers being squeezed. "I'm choosing to take it as a compliment."
"I'm not going to--" it paused to lick its lips, obviously still heady with sedative. "--just let you… Do what you want."
"You keep saying that, and yet." The doctor squished the soft but stiffening flesh against his palm. "And yet."
"Haaa --"
"You're just letting it happen. What's the truth?"
The table groaned in protest. There was a brief moment where the doctor's hands hesitated and he stared wide-eyed at the straps around his captive's wrists -- they were creaking in that way that new leather did, and there was a genuine fear that it might actually be able to break free. He had to act natural.
"You're holding back," he said sweetly, wincing at another strained noise from the table. "I'm not stopping you from finishing. I'm not stopping you from admitting that you want this."
"Ngh--!" Another displeased sound from the restraints as the creature balled its approximation of fists and struggled, eyes screwed shut and head pressing back.
"Cum," the doctor commanded, just as he pressed his smallest finger into his victim alongside the other three. There was a sick SNAP and in a split second bolts were dropping to the floor at his feet and a clawed hand was suddenly gripping his arm, forcing him to stroke the tentacle in his hand faster. His fingers were violently squeezed as if his captive's body was trying to milk them, and he could hardly move that hand as a result. The grip on his arm tightened enough to bruise as it came, making a mess of the doctor's other arm, his labcoat sleeve now a nasty shade of green. It was shuddering in the straps that still held it -- one at the thigh straps threatening to break as well -- and a soft moan fell from its lips as it was spent.
"Was that so hard?" The doctor asked, a smile in his voice, just before he unsnapped the restraint around his victim's neck.
"Are you okay?" It was like flipping a switch, the way the confidence melted away from Flug's voice and left him sounding normal again. "You've never broken free before. Was it too much?"
"Gh," was Black Hat's response. He was still gripping Flug's arm tightly.
"Let's get you out of there, huh?" Slowly, Flug removed his fingers from inside his boss, crushing his own thighs together at the wet, obscene sound. He wiped his hand on the front of his labcoat (which he'd have to change sometime soon -- it was covered in all manner of Black Hat's fluids) and hit the keypad to his right. The table slowly reclined, and as it did, Flug gently pried Black Hat's hand off of his arm and squeezed it. His boss blinked at him lazily, like a cat, a thin sliver of his normally closed eye visible as he relaxed. Flug replaced his monocle.
"Thank you," Black Hat hummed, gravelly voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I'd like my legs back."
"Of course, sir." Slowly, while smoothing his (hastily cleaned) hands, now both gloveless, along his boss's skin, he unsnapped the remaining restraints, beginning at the lower ones and working his way up to the last one holding Black Hat's upper arm down. As his legs were released, he relaxed them, letting them fall open, and once his arms were free he let them drape across his middle. It was quite the sight for Flug, seeing his boss complacent and well-fucked and watching him contentedly with a lidded eye.
"I was hoping," he said, licking his lips. It was dry, and Flug immediately offered him a bottle of water, which he took and drank half of before continuing. "That you would actually sedate me. Your theatrics were lovely, though."
"Next time?" Flug slid onto the table next to Black Hat's head. His boss sat up more, enough to nose at his neck, just below the border of his mask.
"Next time." He paused. "Don't hold back. I know you can do better than this."
"Sorry to disappoint you, sir." He wasn't hurt, of course -- constructive criticism in his work life could easily destroy him, but in this setting, where he was doing it purely for Black Hat's enjoyment, his pleasure, he fully welcomed it. As he sat up more, Flug wrapped an arm tentatively around his waist. Saying nothing, he polished off the rest of the water and huffed out an exhausted breath.
"Reinforced straps," Black Hat finally scoffed. "I barely had to do anything to rip them."
"I can't outsmart you, sir."
"No one can."
"I can make them steel." Flug brought a foot up onto the table and nudged at one of the thigh straps with the tip of his shoe. "Like on the other examination tables."
"Mm." Black hat wasn't listening. Now that Flug had his leg up he was trailing claws along the inside of his thigh.
"Though I do sort of like you being able to break free," he continued, canting his hips forward slightly. Black Hat's claws grazed the crotch of his jeans. "There's, uh, something exciting about…"
"Me being able to overpower you at any moment?" Black Hat's fangs grazed Flug's neck as he finished his statement for him. "Knowing I could fight back but choose not to?"
"I do this for you, not me," Flug said quietly as his jeans were unbuttoned with one hand. "I hope you don't think this is self indulgence."
Black Hat bit him in response and a moan fell from his lips. Okay, maybe it was a little self indulgent. He was so turned on it hurt, and it must have been obvious considering how eager Black Hat was to get his hands into his boxers and spread him open. His poor cock, swollen enough to peek through his labia, had been rubbing against fabric and leaving him more frustrated than anything. He'd intended to get things cleaned up in here and then take care of himself in the shower, but obviously Black Hat had other plans.
"Oh, fuck, Jefecito," he groaned, pressing into his hand. "You d-don't have to--"
"I want to," Black Hat purred into his ear. "I can smell it on you when we play these games, you know. How fucking wet you are."
"O-Oh, so it's your tur-- turn to dirty talk m- me, huh?" He hadn't realized how sensitive he was until those fingers were rubbing and pinching at him in all the right places, turning his chuckling very quickly into soft, breathy moans. It didn't help the way Black Hat's long, snakelike tongue was assaulting his jugular, his teeth threatening to pierce delicate anatomy; but the fear was part of the experience, knowing he could be killed by a horror that instead chose to hold him delicately in his arms. It was erotic, so erotic that it was barely minutes before he was twitching with an orgasm that came seemingly out of nowhere, his thighs crushing Black Hat's hand as parts of him clenched around nothing. Then Black Hat was kissing him, pushing the paper bag up and out of the way. Flug didn't care about being exposed. Not anymore. They'd long since shared themselves with each other, but the fact that Black Hat still respected his privacy…
"Fuck," Flug breathed as he pulled away. He had to actively force his legs open so Black Hat could pull his hand out of his underwear (and lick off his fingers -- it was for show, he wasn't that wet, was he?) and rest it back on his thigh.
"Did you think I would really leave you like that?" If he didn't know any better, Flug would have thought there was a hint of hurt in his voice. "Wanting for me?"
"Ah. Of course not."
"You know better than to doubt me." Black Hat sat up fully, grunting as he did. "Now, get me my robe. And go have a shower. You're disgusting."
He didn't even bother hiding the relaxed, somewhat goofy grin that graced his features from Flug, who watched him pensively for a long time before getting up and following orders, as he was wont to do.