Chapter Text

The darkness felt endless. It pressed in on all sides like a heavy weight, suffocating, yet somehow familiar. After I recovered from the coma I still didn’t know anything about me besides my age, name , last job and that I am financially supported by the CARE organization, the money was good for me, bills being payed , food and any other things i wanted to buy. After the coma I slowly started to regain my strength and getting back in shape, gaining weight cuz thats what the doctor recommended. But for sure they didn’t recommended for me to follow a plain letter to come to the factory in search of my past.

I should’ve stayed home….the money was great, the apartment was cozy, my sheets around my legs the warmed was heavenly but I had to come here, to find what I once lost….and now I am here. On the cold floor of this fucked up place, luckily my grab pack took most of the fall and not my back. I am so tired now, all I want to do is to take a shower ,eat something and go to sleep but thats not possible right now, I have to get up and go to the location Doey told me to go in search of food they said ,while also avoiding the other toys that are trying to make my the meal they never had in a long time. After some time on the floor I decide to get up in search of some food for the toys or kids, I’m still not used to the idea that there are children in there, I can not stand that.

I rise to my feet, my head swimming with dizziness. The cold floor beneath me is unforgiving, and I can’t help but shiver despite the fact that I’m sweating. The factory feels… alive. Like it’s watching me, its broken walls groaning under an unseen weight. The only sound is the scraping of my boots on the floor as I move forward, the narrow, empty hall stretching out in front of me, a labyrinth of rusted steel and shadows.

I try to focus on the objective—“Find food”—but as I take another step, an uneasy feeling creeps over me, like I’m not alone. I glance over my shoulder, but nothing’s there. Nothing… except the endless rows of toy parts and broken machines, like the remnants of something that never quite worked, poor children. Since arriving at the factory I never once took a break here and never had the chance to think straight , I was being hunted down by Huggy Wuggy, Mommy long legs, smiling critters,miss delight, CatNap, and that lion Yarnaby right now that is under the control of The Doctor.

While I continue walking the hallway is endless, the faint smell of dust and something chemical lingering in the air. I spot something at the corner of my eye—a piece of paper sticking out from under a rusted control panel. My pulse quickens as I reach for it. It’s a message written hastily in a scrawling hand, the ink smudged.

“You don’t remember. You were always one of us. Don’t trust him. Dr. Sawyer will break you like all the rest.”

A chill runs through me as I crumple the paper in my fist. Who was us? And what did they mean by break? My head starts to ache again, the edge of memory threatening to surface, but I push it back. I can’t afford to lose focus now or have a mental breakdown there are others that depend on me.

I move deeper into the factory, drawn forward by an almost magnetic force. The air grows thicker the farther I go, and I wonder how big the company can be and why do I feel a sense of familiarity with this corridor, is it that i once walked here? Mommy told me that I once worked here and that I deserve to die alone …did I took part in turning the orphans into toys?

𝘈 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, what was worse was the silence after it, that made me switch into my fire gun ,fingers frozen around the trigger and not only the fingers also my body , while my heart was racing a rhythmic thumping in my chest that seemed too loud against the deafening quiet, is it Yarnaby again? If so I hope not, I barely escaped him last time. I stayed in place for some time straining my ears to catch even the faintest sound. But there was nothing. Just the emptiness of the factory, thick and suffocating, it felt endless till i decided to finally move closer to see what is it….𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.( ̶a̶̶r̶̶e̶ ̶u̶ ̶t̶̶r̶̶i̶̶p̶̶p̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶b̶̶r̶̶u̶̶h̶).

“Ah, now whats this, is my little germ running around alone in this dreadful place, I wonder why?” His voice slithers through the air, smooth as silk, yet laced with something taunting, making fun of me to be in such a state of 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓.”

" The sound of panic. The symphony of prey. I’ve seen it before—body locked, breath shallow, muscles tense like a rat in a trap. Oh, how predictable. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜. And yet… isn’t it 𝐞𝐱𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞? That split-second when control is ripped from your hands? When the mind begs for logic, but the body only knows fear? But tell me… why fight it? Why pretend you’re anything more than an animal backed into a corner?

Look around you—this place doesn’t care about you. It never did. So why should you? Why should anything? 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞. You cling to the foolish idea that if you stay still long enough, maybe—just maybe—you’ll be spared. Oh, I do love that part… watching the hope drain from your eyes when you finally realize…“Mercy” is just another lie we tell the 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤.”

With enough courage you put the fire gun down and look around for that old TV that displays his mocking eye “Why I should listen to you, the only thing you’ve been doing to me is mock me, hunt me and watch me like your little fashion show” I try to be as put together as I can be after that tension.

“Mock you? Hunt you? Oh, my dear, deluded thing—if I were truly hunting you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?” A low chuckle crackles through the speakers, dry and humorless.

“You think this is cruelty? No, no… this is education. You see, I watch you because you amuse me. Because you stumble through these halls with such stubborn, misplaced hope, as if you’re anything more than a mouse scurrying under my floorboards.” His voice is smooth but laced with a quiet, underlying menace, as if he enjoys watching me squirm but doesn’t need to raise his voice to be terrifying or an evil smirk on, he only sees me as a form of 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 and nothing more, and that’s far more worst then death.

“But tell me, little mouse… how long do you think you can keep running before the hunger sets in? Before your limbs get weak, your vision blurs, and the thought of sinking your teeth into anything becomes unbearable?”

“I wonder… how desperate will you be when there’s nothing left but the choice between starvation and… what I so generously provide?” He speaks the words slowly, deliberately, letting the silence linger like a dark cloud—heavy, suffocating.

“But you… you must be wondering, aren’t you? Who were you before all of this? What did you mean to the world? What did you mean to them? The ones you’ve lost… the ones you’ve forgotten.” He lets out a soft, almost tender sigh, a cruel mockery of empathy.

“Memory is such a fragile thing, isn’t it? One minute, you know exactly who you are, and the next… you’re left to grasp at the edges of something you once held dear. Oh, but it doesn’t have to stay that way, does it?” His tone sharpens slightly, as if a sudden idea has come to mind. “What if I told you that the path to remembering—truly remembering—who you were… lies in a small, simple choice?”

A mechanical whir echoes through the room as a rusted metal compartment slides open before you. Inside, resting on a plate that looks almost too clean for this forsaken place, is food.

“You’re starving. I can see it in the way you sway on your feet, the way your hands tremble ever so slightly. The body is such a fragile, pathetic thing, isn’t it? Reduce it to hunger, and suddenly… all those grand ideas of strength and resistance fade away.”

A pause. A slow, satisfied exhale through the speaker.

“Go on. Eat. It’s not much, but then again… neither are you right now.”

His voice softens, laced with something unstintingly kind—the kind of kindness that doesn’t belong in a place like this.

“I’m not your enemy, you know. In fact… I’m the only one who wants to help you. Everyone else? They just want you to be what they need you to be. A tool. A pawn. But me? I want you to be you. The real you. The one buried beneath all that doubt, all that hesitation.”

He chuckles, smooth and knowing, like he’s already won.

“Food isn’t just about survival. It’s about strength. And if you want to remember who you are, if you truly want to uncover the truth… you’re going to need strength.”

A slight static crackle lingers in the silence before he speaks again, softer this time, almost… affectionate.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

I hesitate. The word trust feels foreign, frayed at the edges. But my body is weak, my mind clouded with exhaustion. And the food—real, tangible food—sits within reach.

“I… I do,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

His satisfied chuckle sends a shiver through me.

“That’s my girl.”

The deal is struck. I can take the food to my friends, as long as I do my part in return. It’s a small price to pay… right?

The Safe Haven

I finally reach our hiding spot, my arms trembling under the weight of the crates. The sight of our small sanctuary—a place that once felt safe—tightens something in my chest. My friends are waiting. They need this.

Doey’s face lights up first, eyes wide with shock. “You actually found something?”

I nod, trying to suppress the guilt curling in my gut. “Yeah. Enough for all of us.”

Poppy steps closer, hesitant. “Is it safe, did it cost you something,where did you find it?”

“Of course it is safe” I answer too quickly. The words taste bitter in my mouth. “I wouldn’t bring anything that could hurt us and the cost….it was nothing important”I lie

Kissy Missy narrows her eyes but says nothing, only holds herself stedy but anxiously. I force a smile and start opening the crates. “Come on. We need this.”

The hunger wins over caution. The first bite is slow, hesitant. But as soon as they start, there’s no stopping. The food vanishes fast, like we’ve never eaten before. Relief settles in my chest.

It worked. We’re okay.

Aren’t we?

——————————————————————

The food lasted us for some time before I had to go back to the usual place where me and the doctor spoked for some more. He was his usual self, making smart comments about …us , before reminding me of our deal, giving the food to my friends in order for me to be his perfect patient and for some information about the old me.

After some time the toys started to act…. strange as if they will go rabid after some of it.Some of them had other behavior , being more distant more secretive , the shift at first is small but subtle.

Doey is quieter than usual, his fingers twitching at his sides, almost aggressive. His usual soft warmth feels… distant. I told him that everything will be alright, that we got each other but he will just ignore him, telling me to go do something and leave him alone …

Poppy keeps glancing at the shadows, her movements sharp and jerky. “Did you hear that?” she whispers, though there’s nothing but silence. I sometimes try to talk to her but she will be so out of it, her blood shot eyes are starting to become worst.

Kissy Missy refuses to sit with the others, her back pressed to the wall. Her eyes dart between us, filled with something I can’t name. I try sometimes to change her bandages but she will just look at me with these big eyes and keep staring as I do the job, once I saw in the corner of my while bandaging her that the …eyes changed into something dangerous…something I’ve seen at Huggy.

As for me…I feel weaker, when I carried the crates of food last time I got tired, so tired I had to take a break before continuing.

A tension settles in the air, thick and suffocating.

Something is wrong.

What have I done?

The next meal all of the small toys ate before us and then me and the others. Eat is a strong word because none of us tried to touch it.

“Why did you leave for so long?” Doey’s voice is lower now, careful. " You took your sweet time getting back here, something happen?”

My breath catches” It’s just …. I had to take a break, I think the crates are getting heavier every time”

Poppy’s fingers drum anxiously against her knee, her gaze flicking between me and the untouched food.

“Or maybe you just didn’t want to come back.” Her voice is sharp, laced with something I can’t quite place—mistrust, maybe even accusation.

My stomach tightens. “That’s not true. I—”

“Isn’t it?” she cuts in, tilting her head. “You show up with food, but you barely eat. You disappear for who knows how long, and now you’re acting… weird.”

She exhales through her nose, shifting where she sits. “If you were just tired, fine. But something’s wrong. And you’re not telling us.”

Her words settle into the silence like stones sinking into water. I feel the weight of them, pressing down on my chest.

Doey and Kissy Missy say nothing, but the way they glance at me—the way their hands stay close to their sides, tense—makes my throat dry.

They’re doubting me.

They’re watching me.

And worst of all… I don’t know if they’re wrong to.

I force a weak chuckle, raising my hands slightly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Come on, Poppy, it’s not like that.” I swallow hard. “I was just… exhausted. I needed a break. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.”

I glance toward the crates, desperation creeping into my tone. “But I brought food, didn’t I? Enough for all of us.”

Doey shifts, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression is unreadable, but the way his fingers twitch makes my stomach twist.

“That’s not the point.” His voice is cold, steady. “Something’s changed.”

I shake my head quickly. “Nothing’s changed! I’m still me! I—”

“Are you?” Doey steps forward, his eyes narrowing. “Because I don’t know anymore.”

My breath catches. “Doey, please, I just—”

“You need to leave.I’ve prepared a place special for you where to stay till we figure it out if you are in our side or not.”

I swallows hard, my throat tightening.

“Doey, come on… You don’t have to do this.” Their voice wavers, trying to keep the fear from creeping in. “I brought food, I came back—what else do you want from me?”

Doey doesn’t budge. His eyes are sharp, guarded. “I want to trust you.” He exhales sharply. “But I don’t.”

I shake my head. “This is insane. I’m not your enemy!”

Doey tilts his head slightly, his tone colder now. “Then prove it.” He gestures toward the exit. “You’ll stay where I say until we figure out if you’re still one of us.”

I hesitate, looking at Poppy and Kissy Missy, searching for any kind of protest—but they stay silent.

A lump forms in their throat. “And if I refuse?”

Doey steps closer. “Then you’re choosing to leave for good.”

Silence stretches between us.

Finally, I exhale shakily, shoulders slumping. “Fine… Just show me where.”

Doey nods once. “Follow me.”

—————————————————————-

The walk is quiet, tense. My mind races, stomach twisting with unease. When I finally arrived, my eyes flicker across the space.

A hammock, some worn sofas, a little table, neatly folded clothes… and a working shower. It’s more than I could expect.

I swallow thickly, glancing at Doey. “So… this is where I stay?”

Doey nods, crossing his arms. “For now.”

I glances around the space again, eyes lingering on the small pile of folded clothes and a bar of soap resting on the table. It feels… strange. Too prepared. Too deliberate.

Doey watches them carefully before speaking. “We found some clothes for you. Not as torn up as what you’ve been wearing. There’s soap, too. If you wanna clean up.”

The player swallows, arms wrapping around themselves. “So… this is really where I’m staying?”

Doey nods.

“And… I’ll be safe here?”* My voice is small, uncertain.

For the first time, Doey doesn’t answer immediately. Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. He looks at me, expression unreadable. Then, finally, he says, “You’ll do some errands for us.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. “Earn back our trust.”

Something cold settles in the my chest when Doey refused to tell me that I’m safe here.

“Get some rest,” Doey adds, turning toward the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

And with that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

I stand in the small, dimly lit room, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on them. The promise of a shower, of some small comfort, feels like the only thing left to cling to.I slowly strip off my torn, filthy clothes, the smell of sweat and dirt heavy in the air. The clean clothes that Doey had left for me feel like a distant thought, too far removed from what they need right now.

The water starts to run, steam filling the room, and I step into the warm spray, the sensation of it hitting my skin a welcome relief, though it does little to ease the knot in my chest. As the water washes over me, I find myself breaking, tears slipping down my face, mixing with the water pouring from above.

The weight of the day, of everything I’ve been through, crashes over me. My arms instinctively wrap around my body, hugging myself as if the touch can somehow fill the emptiness inside. I let myself cry, quietly at first, then harder as the sobs begin to rack through my. The tears feel endless, but I don’t stop not even if I could try.

In that moment, I imagine what it would be like to be cared for, to be loved. The soft touch of someone brushing my hair from my face, the warmth of someone holding me close, offering comfort, protection, tenderness. It’s a thought I can’t remember ever experiencing not If I could remember something about my past self, but it’s the only thing my heart can reach for now.

As the shower runs, the water runs over them like it’s trying to wash away all the pain, the fear, the confusion, but nothing can erase the truth: I’m alone.

I swallow a sob, tightening my arms around myself as I stand under the stream, trying to find some sense of solace, even in this fragile, fleeting moment.

As the water pours over me, the world feels like it’s finally quieting down. But then, out of nowhere, a voice crackles through a speaker hidden somewhere in the room. It’s cold, mocking, and familiar, slipping under their skin like a poison. The Doctor’s voice. The same voice that’s twisted their mind and broken their resolve.

“My little germ,” he sneers, the words laced with dark amusement. “Did you think you’d find something real here? That they—your friends—actually care about you?”

The words cut deep, like a knife twisting in their chest. The water continues to run, but now it’s just background noise, the speaker’s taunting voice becoming the center of everything.Oh no…

“How pathetic,” Dr. Sawyer croons, as if he’s savoring every syllable, enjoying the destruction he’s causing. “Crying in the shower like some lost little thing, imagining that someone could ever care for you. You really thought they would? After everything?”

My body stiffens, the tears still flowing, but now they’re joined by a sickening mixture of rage. His voice continues, relentless.

“They don’t love you. They never did. No one ever will. You’re just a tool, a plaything. And now, they’ve thrown you away. All alone. How does that feel, hmm? Not even your precious friends will stand by you.”

The words swirl like a storm inside my mind, poisoning my thoughts. The pain of betrayal, of isolation, of everything I thought I knew… it all comes rushing back.

Dr. Sawyer’s laugh echoes through the speaker, a low, sickening chuckle that reverberates through my very bones. “I wonder, my little germ… how long will you keep crying? Will you ever stop? Or will you finally accept the truth: you’re mine now. Always have been. You’ll never be free again.”

As the mockery continues I try to cover my body more with my hands while also caressing my skin imagining a shield protecting me.

Dr. Sawyer’s voice grows softer, yet somehow even more sinister as it lingers in the air, wrapping around my broken thoughts like a tight, suffocating grip. The mocking laughter fades, replaced by an almost affectionate tone. It’s strange, unsettling — as if he’s savoring every moment of your misery.

“Oh, my little germ,” he coos, his voice smooth and dripping with false sweetness. “I can hear your trembling. Your tears. You’re trying to shield yourself, aren’t you? Trying to block me out… trying to protect that fragile little thing you call a body. But it won’t work, darling.”

His voice turns almost tender, but there’s no warmth in it. No comfort. Just the cruelty masked beneath the soft words.

“I understand,” he continues, the mock sympathy in his voice almost suffocating. “It must be so hard. You’ve been through so much, haven’t you? Everyone’s left you behind. Left you to rot in this place. But I’m here now, my little germ. I’m here to take care of you. You don’t have to do it alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer… not if you let me help you.”

His words feel like a twisted embrace, like an illusion of warmth wrapping around you, making you question whether he’s truly the monster, or if you’re the one broken enough to fall for it.

“I know you don’t want to believe it,” he purrs, “but trust me. You’ll see soon enough that this is what you need. I’m the only one who can fix you. The only one who can make you whole again. So, stop hiding. Let me in. Let me make you strong, let me give you everything you really need. The warmth, the care, the comfort…”

He pauses for a moment, a long, breathy chuckle sneaks back into his tone.

“I promise, my dear little thing, you’ll love what I have to offer. You’ll see just how much better it is with me. Just how safe you’ll be when you accept it.”

The gentle cadence of his words stands in stark contrast to the venomous truth he’s pouring into you. Yet there’s that strange pull in his voice, a twisted sense of safety that beckons, pulling at your vulnerability as you stand in the shower, hands trembling, still trying to protect yourself from the storm of his influence.

Dr. Sawyer’s voice drips with malicious intent, the smoothness of it laced with a sickening satisfaction. His tone is soft, yet it cuts through the silence like a blade, every word wrapped in dark promise.

“Imagine, my little pet,” he murmurs, his voice like honey laced with poison, “my hands around you, caressing your skin, tracing every curve, every fragile inch of you. Can you feel it? Can you feel how warm it is? How close… how safe it would feel to let me hold you?”

He chuckles, low and dark, the sound like a predator savoring the torment of its prey.

“Loving you, my dear. Loving you in the way only I can. You don’t even know how much you need it yet, but you will. You’ll crave it, just like you crave the warmth, the comfort. You’ll see how much better you are with me, with my touch… my care. You’ll beg for it, soon enough. And when you do, when you finally realize how much you need me, I’ll be there. I’ll be the one to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of… everything you’ve always wanted.”

His voice lowers to a whisper, making it feel like his words are seeping into your very soul, tainting everything.

“You’ll understand soon. It’s inevitable, my little germ. You’ll want me. You’ll want to be held by me. And when that happens… everything will make sense. You’ll finally feel whole again.”

“Now, be a good girl and do as I say, mimic just a bit of the pleasure I’ll bring to you. Just a taste of what’s to come. Let yourself go… let me show you what true relief feels like.”

My face starts to burn , not only my face, my whole body…maybe its because of the hot water still running or the predicament that I am , his voice oh so predatory but so hypnotic makes my brain all mushy , making me have no thoughts, to not have shame while naked in this shower with the voice of a sadist doctor…but I want it to mean something. I want him to touche me. To fell whole.

“Now my sweet pet.Lets see how good you are at following instructions. Slowly imagine me there, holding you, my arms traveling between your chest and your thighs, massaging your skin” his sweet dark voice is going to be the end of me as I do as he says. As my hands travel between my chest massaging it and down to my thighs I start to get a little excited. Not wasting any time my hands travel to my private part and start massaging it.

“ You feel it, don’t you? That warmth, the way your body responds to my voice. Every touch of my words is like fire, isn’t it? Burning away your shame, your resistance. The more you listen, the more I own you. The more you beg for my touch, my approval… don’t lie to me, little germ. You want it. You need it.”

Is tone sharpens, as if he’s savoring the control he holds over you.

“Go ahead, my dear. Let go completely. Let the pleasure of your surrender wash over you. You’re mine now. Completely. And I’ll make sure you enjoy every twisted moment of it.Lets start simple by some friction on your clit , it should be easy to find, If you won’t find it it would my pleasure to come there and find it for you, guiding you into your pleasure.”

I slowly start to lose it as i slowly put friction on my clit and slowly spreading my legs wide.

He pauses, letting the silence stretch out, letting his words sink deeper, and his voice turns dark, predatory.

“Tell me, little germ, how does it feel to know that you’re nothing without me?Like a pet lost without their master”

As he continues his smart remarks on me i am working faster on my clit small moans escaping my lips as i continue enjoying his sweet words.I feel like I can listen you him and only him, that he can only bring me pleasure.

Dr. Sawyer’s voice lowers, now a sinister growl that vibrates through the air, thick with dark satisfaction.

“Such a beautiful thing, to watch you unravel. Do you feel that? The way your body responds?The way it responds to my words. It’s not your doing, you know. You’ve always been mine, even before you realized it. You were never meant to be free, little germ. Freedom was never an option for you.You could never be free, you crave my words, you crave my attention, you crave to be loved to be touched.Now dear lets go to the next step, insert a finger in you and pretend its my cock in there.”

I can not stand it anymore, the way he talks to me. I quickly insert my finger inside me and start working faster on my realise imagining how his cock will feel like .

“Do you feel the heat, that warmth coursing through your skin? That’s me, every word I speak, every command I give, it runs through your veins, pulling you closer to the truth. The truth that you were never anything without me. You’ve always needed someone to guide you, to shape you, to break you. You would enjoy that wont you?”

Don’t say anything, don’t say anything. This is wrong, so wrong, you should just wash off ignore him. He should not have this kind of power over you.You should not be attractive by this.

He chuckles softly as he watches you trying to resist him, his voice so smooth, it feels like velvet wrapped around a blade.

“Let go, my dear. Let go of your pride, of your shame. Every ounce of resistance, every last scrap of what you thought you were—throw it away. I’ll give you pleasure like you’ve never known before, but only if you stop pretending you have any control. ”

My legs are starting to shake from his words an the friction of my fingers.

“All that’s left for you to do my little experiment is to surrender.I am a simple man dear, I see potential in a young woman like you and I must have it.The soft skin that you have, the fragile mind, the naivity that you so sweetly posses it makes me go….feral, I want to taste it and I assure you will never be upset when I leave my mark on you”

My skin starts to become red from the hot water but i can not bother to stand up and turn it off, not when I have someone to guide me through something I don’t remember experiencing.An orgasm.

" When I was still young and the most important scientist in this forgotten place I was quit popular with the lady’s.All of them had one thing in common…. and that was they wanted all to fuck me but fortunate for you I’m the one who wants to do that to you…you should feel proud little mouse.” There’s a sick, twisted satisfaction in his voice, as though he’s savoring every second of my pleasure, as if he is studying me.” But don’t worry I wont force you into it,no, I am not that cruel…I will make you beg for me until the whole facility will hear, until the dead will woken up to the praises you will give me as I will ravish you ,making you go rabid.”

I am near my pleasure as my head is back against the wall as my legs start to shake violently from the dirty talking. “D-doctor please”.

“Don’t worry my dear I’m right here and I am enjoying everything I see and hear.I see a beautiful Angel trying to stay pure even in this hell, how predictable.How pathetic.What would you do if instead of your finger my cock was there …hm?I assure you will be screaming and go dumb. Oh how sweet that will be, fucking you dumb until the only thing you know is my name”

“D-doctor I am so close”

“Already, wow! You sure never had experience in this, don’t worry I will teach you.Now come pet” he demands in a hard voice.

I let a loud moan as I orgasm onto my fingers, my legs are shaking uncontrollably and my muscles have now relaxed now realizing how tense I was these few moments.

He chuckles, dark and knowing.

“Remember sweet thing I never once took control of you, you gave it to me.Willingly. Desperately.”

Another pause, agonizingly slow. Then, with a final, almost tender whisper—

“And when you did… you had thanked me.”

——————————————————————————-

After the ‘encounter’ with the doctor in the shower I went to sleep and waited to Doey to appear and now I am here delivering a message he said, he didn’t once bother to tell me who this person is or what the message is…i still feel hurt that they don’t trust me after all of the things I’ve done for them.

“There’s someone else hiding in this facility. They don’t trust us, and frankly, we don’t trust them. But they need to hear something—from you.”

That’s all he said to me and now I am just walking around connecting wires to further go inside the facility…for fuck sakes how big is this place?Going further and further I am still thinking about the ..shower incident with the doctor and somehow… I don’t regret any of it. Good thing is that with this place I’ve found a document with my name on it, for what I figured it out I was an assistant to Stella Greyber and thats it. The document only told my moving to another wing , to another expertise.

As I remain in my thoughts I suddenly hear a sound, a heavy sound, as I turn around something big jumps on me making me close my eyes. When I open them I see Yarnaby on top of me head tilted to the left examining me.

Dr. Sawyer’s voice slithers through the speakers, laced with amusement and something far crueler.

“Yarnaby… why don’t you play with our little germ? She looks so tired, so fragile. Be gentle… or don’t.”

A mechanical whir fills the room as Yarnaby stirs to life, its massive limbs twitching in anticipation.

“please dont-” as I try to finish my sentence Yarnaby starts to move me around up and down ,left and right , more like throwing me , bruising me in the process.

“Oh dear… Yarnaby, you’re getting a little rough, aren’t you?” he muses, the laughter bubbling just beneath his words. “But I suppose she needs this, doesn’t she? Our little hero needs to learn that she doesn’t get to control what happens to her.”

Yarnaby hurls me across the cold floor, my body slamming into the hard surface with a dull thud. My breath is ripped from my lungs, my limbs aching, but there’s no time to recover before these big mounth gets a hold of my shirt. Yarnaby flings me again, the world spinning as I crash down, my body nothing more than a plaything in its grip.

As this ‘lion’ continues to play with me I try to escape somehow but with the last impact I can no longer move from the pain and just accept my fate. When Yarnaby sees these he just stops and looks at me confused on why did I just give up on our play session. I slowly rise my arms to look at them and see that they have bruises all over them and some cuts as well.

As I lay there, my body screaming in protest, Yarnaby looms over me, its massive head tilting in childlike confusion. It doesn’t understand. To it, this was just play. A game. But to me, it was a reminder of how powerless I really am.

I take a shaky breath, my trembling fingers reaching up toward the massive creature. My body aches, my vision swims, but somehow, I manage to press my palm against its coarse, mechanical fur. A weak, broken attempt at… what? Calming it? Calming myself?

Yarnaby lets out a strange, low whirring sound, its eyes flickering as it processes my reaction. It nudges my hand slightly, almost like a dog waiting for more affection. He wanted to be petted and petted he should be.

I press my palm flat against his fur, petting him in slow, gentle motions. Good… let him think this is part of the game…

A deep, rumbling purr vibrates through his body. He likes this. The realization hits me like a spark in the darkness—I can do something. Maybe not fight, maybe not run, but I can shift things in my favor.

I let my hand slide to his head, stroking it like one might calm a restless beast. “Good… good boy, Yarnaby,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from exhaustion.

Yarnaby lets out a pleased growl, his dangerous damener completely slackening. His massive frame relaxing under my touch. He’s no longer tossing me—he’s leaning into me.

For now, at least, I’ve bought myself a moment of peace.

Yarnaby lets out a pleased little chuff, his glowing eyes half-lidded in what I can only assume is contentment. His massive, patchwork body leans more into my touch, like a cat soaking up affection.

Then, without warning—

WHUMP.

A heavy weight crashes down on me, knocking the breath from my lungs. My vision bursts with white spots as Yarnaby sits—directly on top of me.

I let out a strangled wheeze, my arms pinned uselessly beneath his bulk. “Y-Yarnaby…!” My voice comes out thin, crushed under the sheer weight of the giant toy.

He lets out a deep, rumbling purr, completely unbothered by the fact that he is actively suffocating me. His tail flicks lazily, and he shifts slightly—just enough to press me even deeper into the floor.

I try to wriggle, but all that gets me is another content little grunt from Yarnaby, as if my struggle is just another part of his twisted playtime.

“This isn’t—! This isn’t how we play!” I gasp, trying desperately to free even one arm.

Yarnaby simply tilts his head, then wiggles—like he’s getting comfortable.

I think I’m going to die. ( work )

Just as I start seeing stars, Yarnaby finally shifts his weight—slowly, almost reluctantly—before standing up and stepping off me. The moment his crushing weight lifts, I gasp in deep, desperate breaths, my ribs aching with every inhale.

But before I can even think about moving, Yarnaby plops down beside me, his massive head tilting as he stares expectantly. Looks at me with these empty eyes. And then—

He nudges me.

I groan, barely able to lift my arm. “Yarnaby… I need a second—”

Another nudge. More insistent this time. His nose bumps against my cheek, almost knocking me over again.

I look at him, exhausted and sore, only to see those big glowing eyes staring at me—wide, hopeful. His front paws do a little impatient kneading motion, like he’s waiting for something.

It takes me a second, but I realize what he wants.

“…You want me to pet you, don’t you?”

Yarnaby immediately lets out a pleased little chuff and presses his head against my chest, nearly toppling me over again.

I sigh, but I can’t help the faint smile tugging at my lips. My whole body hurts, but somehow… I lift my shaky hand and gently run my fingers through the scrappy tufts of his ‘fur’.

He purrs. Loud and deep, vibrating through his entire body.

For a creature that just tossed me around like a ragdoll, he sure is acting like a needy housecat now.

I take slow, careful breaths as I continue to pet him, the motion almost instinctual now, even though my body protests. I feel him shift, nuzzling his face into the crook of my arm, like he’s demanding more of my attention.

My body is still weak, but my mind… my mind is a mess. I want to stay in this moment, to forget everything else. But deep down, I know I can’t. I can’t afford to get lost in this, not with everything happening around me.

Yarnaby notices my hesitation, and his large, soft eyes blink up at me, seemingly understanding. He shifts again, and this time, he curls up beside me, his massive body pressing against mine. His warmth offers a comfort I didn’t think I could find here.

I close my eyes for a moment, just breathing, trying to calm myself.

But the silence between us doesn’t last long.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. My heart skips a beat, the calm shattered in an instant.

Yarnaby growls lowly, a protective sound, his body tensing up against mine.

I’m not sure who it is, but part of me doesn’t want to face them. Part of me just wants to stay here in this strange moment of comfort with Yarnaby, away from everything else.

The tension in the air thickens, and the weight of everything around me feels almost too much to bear. My body is still battered from the previous events, every bruise, every injury reminding me of how fragile I really am. My vision starts to blur once more, the edges of my consciousness beginning to fade.

Yarnaby’s presence next to me is a strange comfort, but even that can’t stop the inevitable. The pain, the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness start to drown me. The world around me spins faster and faster, and soon, I feel my eyes flutter, the last shred of awareness slipping away.

Everything goes dark.

—————————————————————————

The harsh, sterile lights above make my head spin as I slowly begin to regain consciousness. My body feels heavy, sluggish, and every inch of me aches. The sensation of cold metal against my back sends a shiver down my spine, and my limbs feel immobilized, restrained by something—something tight, unyielding.

My eyes dart around, panic rising in my chest as I try to process what’s happening. The last thing I remember is the darkness, and Yarnabys weight hovering above me, but now… this.

I can barely move, and I struggle against the restraints. The sensation of being trapped is suffocating, my mind racing as I try to make sense of the situation. The place is sterile—too sterile—and the smell of antiseptic hangs heavy in the air, making my stomach churn, reminding me about the place I've been for several years.

“Awake, finally?” Dr. Sawyer’s voice cuts through the silence, smooth and mocking. “I see you’re starting to realize your new reality. The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you but I must insist you do sleep quit a lot my dear, is it because of the little accident you had?”

I try to speak, but my throat feels dry and raw, the words caught somewhere between fear and desperation.

The echo of footsteps reverberates through the hollow corridors, growing louder, each step a harbinger of what is to come. And then, just as my pulse quickens, he emerges. The Doctor.

This is the first time I truly see him—an encounter I neither sought nor wanted. His form is draped in black cloth, torn and filthy, as though it has been stitched together from the remnants of forgotten years. It hangs off him like the shroud of a specter, its edges fraying and stained with the passage of time. But beneath the fabric, there is no mistaking what he truly is.

He is not flesh. He is not bone. His body—inhuman, mechanical—unfolds before me like some twisted, metal monstrosity( they call me the steel fucker). His movements are precise, each one calculated and deliberate, as though he’s testing the very limits of his own design. He is an amalgamation of steel and circuitry, a body that resembles a grotesque puppet—a puppet with no strings, a puppet with no master.

Did I expect something more human? Something less… wrong? Perhaps. But even my fractured mind knows the truth now. He is a walking nightmare, a mechanical god in his own right. What I saw in my fleeting hope was a shadow of humanity. But before me now stands a towering, soulless machine—one that makes the very air around me feel thick, suffocating.

I want to run. I want to scream. But I can do nothing but stand on the medical table trembling. His eye—if you can call that because of that old TV—glows faintly beneath the shadow of his hood, cold and unblinking. There is no warmth, no mercy, only the hollow promise of a fate worse than anything my broken memories could ever conjure.

And as he looms over me, every inch of his mechanical frame casting a shadow too large for me to escape, I feel it: the overwhelming certainty that this creature—this thing—is not here to help. He is here to watch. To experiment. To break.

And in his silence, I realize with a chill down my spine—he doesn’t care whether I live or die. He doesn’t care at all. To him, I am merely a part of the machine—a cog, a pawn. Nothing more. Why did I trust this? ( clank clank)

A soft, almost soothing voice breaks through the fog of my confusion. “You should not move. You’ve been through a lot.”

Harley’s fingers move with unnerving tenderness as they clean and bandage my wounds, each touch calculated, precise. A part of me wants to flinch, wants to pull away, but the bindings on my wrists and ankles hold me in place, rendering me powerless. I’m at his mercy, and the sickening realization makes my chest tighten with dread.

His voice breaks the silence, smooth and persuasive, like a melody wrapped in darkness. “I can see the struggle in your eyes,” he murmurs, as his hand softly strokes my cheek, his touch gentle, almost comforting. “You think they care about you, don’t you? But they don’t. They never have. They’re not like you. Not like me.”

His fingers caress my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw in a soothing, almost affectionate manner. It feels wrong, yet I can’t help but lean into it, the sensation pulling me in despite my better judgment. “You’re special,” he continues, the words soft yet insistent. “Stronger than all of them. You just don’t see it yet.”

His eye gleam with something dark, something predatory, but there’s also a twisted tenderness there, like he’s trying to make me believe that I’m the one who’s broken, that they are the ones who don’t get it. They don’t know what I need.

“You can’t trust them,” Harley whispers, his voice laced with false sweetness. “They won’t help you. They’re weak. But I understand you, little one. I know what it takes to make you strong.” His mechanical thumb moves gently over my cheekbone, a touch that feels as if it’s meant to pacify me, but the underlying darkness is unmistakable.

“You need me,” he murmurs, his voice lowering his ‘face’ coming close to mine, his purple tire eye staring at me. “You’ll see. I’m the only one who can give you what you truly need. The others? They’ll only hold you back. They’ll make you weak, keep you tethered to their lies. You don’t need them anymore.”

The manipulative words slide into my mind like a poison, twisting, bending, and distorting the truth. His soft touch feels like a lie wrapped in a comfort that threatens to break me, to make me believe I’m better off in his hands.

“You belong with me,” he says softly, his fingers drifting over my skin again, like a possessive caress while still looking at me. “Just let go of them. Let go of their weakness. You’re stronger than they’ll ever understand.” His hand slides from my cheek to my throat, his touch still gentle but with a dangerous weight behind it, pushing on my throat not enough to harm me but to make a statement.

I can’t escape him, can’t escape this feeling of suffocating control, and his words slowly start to chip away at my resolve. I try to push back, to maintain some shred of resistance, but the coldest of his touch, the softness of his voice, threatens to pull me under, into his twisted world where I’m nothing more than a pawn.

“I’ll make you powerful,” he promises, his voice smooth and dark. “All you have to do is trust me.”

Harley’s hand lingers on my skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulls away playing with my lower lip. He reaches to the side, grabbing a tray of food from a nearby table, and brings it close, his eyes locking onto mine with an unsettling intensity.

Harley’s fingers brush over the tray, pushing it closer to me. “You’ll be doing yourself a favor,” he murmurs, his voice soft but insistent. “You’ve been so strong, and you deserve this. All you have to do is eat.”

I stare at the food for a moment, the hunger almost too much to ignore. I swallow hard, my throat dry, and the smell of the food fills my senses. My body reacts, a quiet desperation rising within me. I need this. I have to eat.

Before I can reach for it, Harley’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “I’ll untie you, of course,” he says, his tone casual but with an undertone of something darker. He moves swiftly, untying the restraints on my wrists and ankles. I try to sit up, my limbs stiff, the action still feeling unnatural, but I can’t help but feel a slight sense of relief at the freedom.

BUFF-

A load sound can be heard from the other room. Making me jump and the doctor to become more serious.

“Wait here and eat like the good patient you are and you will get a present from me, I will come right back”. The doctor hands me the food and leaves into the other room.

My body is still trembling, my nerves raw, and my stomach growls in protest, but the hunger no longer holds the same pull. My mind races, the need to escape burning brighter than the desire to feed. I can’t stay here, not after everything that’s happened, not after everything I’ve endured. I need to get away from him—from Harley.

I scan the room one last time, my eyes flicking over the sterile, cold surfaces. The dim light casts long shadows across the floor, and I see the scattered remains of equipment—medical tools that look far too familiar, but that’s not my concern right now. There’s a bed, a chair, cabinets filled with who knows what, and then the walls, cracked and broken as though even the structure of this place is slowly crumbling beneath the weight of its secrets.

But then, there it is—a small, almost unnoticeable trapdoor tucked into the floor beside the door Harley exited through. It seems like the perfect escape, hidden in plain sight. I don’t hesitate, my hands shaking as I make my way toward it. Every step feels heavy, as if the very air is trying to hold me in place. But I can’t stay. Not like this.

The latch creaks open, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. My breath quickens as I peer down into the dark opening, the sharp smell of dust and old wood tickling my senses. It’s a small space, but it might be my only chance to get out of here unnoticed.

I take a deep breath, forcing my body into motion despite the fear gnawing at my insides. I lower myself into the trapdoor, one hand gripping the edge as I carefully slide into the darkness below. The floor seems farther than I expected, and my feet hit the ground with an ungraceful thud, sending a jolt of pain up my spine.

I wince, my body aching from the impact, but I quickly scramble to my feet, closing the trapdoor behind me with a soft click. The darkness swallows me whole, and for the first time since I woke up in this hellish place, I feel the slightest bit of hope stir within me. It’s faint, but it’s there—a glimmer of something that tells me maybe, just maybe, I can escape this.

As I step deeper into the darkened space, a chill creeps down my spine, and my body freezes in place. My heart skips a beat, and I swallow the rising lump in my throat. The dim lighting barely casts any illumination, but just enough to reveal a sight that sends a cold shiver through my bones.

The room is filled with rows of lifeless robotic bodies, eerily silent and unnervingly similar to Dr. Sawyer. The sight is haunting—an unsettling reminder of the twisted world I’m caught in, a place where humanity and machine blur into something sinister.

I swallow, forcing myself to keep moving. I can’t afford to linger. Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity, and the creeping sense of danger sharpens in the pit of my stomach. If Dr. Sawyer discovers I’m gone, there’s no telling what he’ll do. The thought alone is enough to make my heart race faster, but I push it down, focusing instead on my escape.

The room itself is strange—a strange fusion of old and new, like a forgotten, decaying relic from another time. The walls are lined with ancient TVs, their screens cracked and dull, static flickering across them as if mocking my every move. The shelves are cluttered with what could only be described as useless decoration—dust-covered trinkets, strange pieces of metal, and objects that make no sense in this place. It’s all a jumbled mess, but it holds a sick kind of twisted beauty.

I glance around quickly, searching for an exit, my gaze flicking from one darkened corner to another. There’s a heavy gate on one side of the room, its rusted bars offering a potential way out, but it’s locked tight, the key nowhere to be seen. I move past it, my footsteps quiet against the cold concrete floor. The air is stale, the smell of metal and old machinery mixing with the musty scent of disuse.

As I continue my quiet, cautious strides through the dimly lit room, the unsettling feeling of being watched presses against me. Every step seems to echo in the silence, but it’s not the sound that unnerves me—it’s the sensation. It’s like something—or someone—lurks in the shadows, eyes fixed on my every movement. I try to shake the paranoia, telling myself it’s just the isolation, the lingering dread. I’m being irrational.

But as I move forward, the feeling only grows stronger, gnawing at me from the inside.

My breath catches when, in the distance, I spot a door. It’s an elegant design, old yet still standing, its wooden frame adorned with ornate carvings, almost as if to mock the madness within these walls. Without thinking, I rush towards it, my heart hammering in my chest. I reach the door, my hand trembling as I place it on the cold, smooth handle. I twist it, but the door doesn’t budge. Locked.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, frustration rising. My pulse spikes. Another dead end. I quickly step back.

As I move away from the door, my back strikes something hard, solid, and cold. My body freezes as the shock of the contact sends a ripple of unease through me.

I don’t have the luxury of time to turn around and confront whatever I just collided with. Before I can react, I feel a firm, metallic grip wrap around my jaw, forcing me to lift my head.

The cold touch of the metal is sharp against my skin, unnatural, and I can’t help but recoil in its grasp. My heart races, and panic begins to surge through me, but before I can do anything, my vision is filled with the old TV with a red glowing eye.

The metallic fingers that hold my face are unyielding, and my thoughts race as I try to assess my options. There’s no way out. No more time to run.

Dr. Sawyer’s voice crackles through the speakers, the sound more aggressive now, laced with possessiveness and dark frustration. “All you had to do… was eat the food,” he hisses, his words dripping with venom, each syllable cutting through the tension in the air like a knife.

His robotic body holds me tighter, forcing my head up to meet his red glowing eye. “But you always have to make things difficult, don’t you?” The possessiveness in his voice only intensifies, like a predator frustrated by its prey’s resistance. “You think you can escape? You think you can defy me? You belong to me now. I own you.”

His voice rises in anger, each word heavy with dominance, the grip around my jaw tightening as if to punctuate his command. “You could’ve had everything. All you had to do was trust me, accept your place here. But now… now you make things harder for yourself. And I will make sure you learn. The hard way.”

The mechanical hand holding me captive seems to reflect the coldness in his tone, a reminder that no matter how much I resist, I am his—he owns every part of me. The fear builds in my chest, but so does something else—an overwhelming sense of dread for the consequences of my refusal.

The metallic hand releases my jaw with a sudden, sharp motion, its grip on my shoulders tightening instantly, rendering me unable to move as I’m spun to face forward. My breath catches in my throat as I am held in place, trapped between the cold, unforgiving steel of the robot’s grip. The weight of it feels suffocating, a constant reminder of my helplessness, but my focus snaps to the ‘man’ standing in front of me.

The air around him crackles with a cruel intensity. His red eye burning with anger as he looks down at me, his hand holding the plate of food with tight, possessive control. He stands there, like a predator cornering its prey, and for a moment, I feel that same cold dread from before, the sense of doom that I cannot escape.

“You really thought you could get away, didn’t you?” His voice is low and dripping with venom, each word delivered like a lash, cutting into my very soul. He steps forward, his dark gaze never leaving mine. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t feel it? You are mine, you little fool. Don’t you ever try to defy me again.”

The plate of food, now a symbol of my submission, is brought closer, the contents gleaming in the dim light, still so sweet and enticing despite the sinister undertone that now hangs in the air. The harsh grip on my shoulders doesn’t loosen for a second. It only tightens, forcing me into compliance.

He leans in, his head beeing so close if he could breath I could’ve felt it, sending a shiver down my spine. “Eat it,” he commands, his voice low and forceful, as if there is no room for argument. “You think you can survive without me? You think you have any choice but to obey?” His fingers tremble with barely contained rage as he scoops a forkful of food, pressing it to my lips with no mercy. “Eat, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His expression is one of pure frustration, his patience clearly worn thin. Each movement is sharp, calculated, designed to remind me of the utter power he holds over me. As I reluctantly take the bite, he watches me intently, his eyes glinting with a combination of satisfaction and contempt.

“Good girl,” he mutters, his voice taking on a twisted, mocking sweetness. “Eat for me, and maybe I’ll allow you to keep a shred of dignity. But remember,” he pauses, his gaze never faltering, “you’re mine now. And if you think you’re getting away again…” His words trail off, the threat unspoken but clear in the silence that follows.

The robotic hands on my shoulder presses harder, and the weight of my fate, my existence, becomes unbearably heavy. I am his, and there is no escaping it.

As the last bite slides down my throat, the warm, almost sickening sensation of the food settles in my stomach, the taste now strangely heavy on my tongue. I barely notice the world around me fading, my body growing heavier, my thoughts slowing, like the thick haze of fog rolling in over my mind.

His voice, low and smooth, breaks the silence.

“Did you enjoy the food, my little pet?” His words drip with dark amusement, each syllable a cruel caress. There’s a chilling edge to his tone, and the sickening sweetness only grows more pronounced.

I try to focus, to fight the overwhelming dizziness that’s consuming me, but it’s as if my body is betraying me, sluggish and uncooperative and also making me more hot.

“You see, I gave you just a little something extra in your meal,” Dr. Sawyer continues, his voice now mocking, darkly triumphant. “A little cocktail to help you… adjust. A warm WELCOME to this hell of a factory.”

The drug coursing through me is unmistakable now, spreading through my veins like a slow poison. My mind, once sharp, now feels dulled, as if I’m floating somewhere far away,somewhere where I need some….attention . I try to keep my gaze steady on him, but everything is slipping through my fingers as this feeling of wanting to be filled with something as my thighs are starting to come closer to my throbbing core.

“You’ve been good, haven’t you?” he continues, his voice softer now, but just as cruel. “Trusting me, eating the food I gave you, following my instructions. But there’s a price to pay for that, isn’t there?”

The weight of his presence is suffocating, and I can’t help but feel utterly small under his gaze, as though I’m nothing more than a puppet, strings pulled tight by his whims.His puppet that need his attention.

“Now, let’s see if you can still remember who you are after this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his gaze turning calculating as he watches me with now his purple eye. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here. I’m always here, watching over you… guiding you, whether you want it or not but now I can touch you to my wishes little mouse.”

The cold, unforgiving floor presses against my body as the robotic form behind me forces me into place, its metallic hands gripping my arms, pinning me to the ground with relentless precision. I can feel the sharp, unnerving chill of the floor seep through my clothes, but it’s nothing compared to the suffocating tension in the air. My body trembles—not from the cold but from what will come to me. Every inch of me screams for escape, but I’m trapped, unable to move, my limbs completely under the robot’s mechanical control. In an instant my clothes are torn away from my body in a swift motion leaving me naked on the floor and the wet spot in my underwear is visible enough for the doctor.

I hear the soft, calculated hum of its servos behind me, its presence a stark contrast to the elegance of Dr. Sawyer’s slow, deliberate movements as he watches me with an almost sickening amusement. He’s standing in front of me, his posture relaxed, his hands clasped behind his back as if he’s admiring some fine artwork rather than a broken, shuddering shell of a person.

“I see that the substance has taken an effect over you , my sweet heart. Good, good , magnificent even. It makes me question if it really is the drug or is it just you who finds these …exciting.” he murmurs, his voice a low, taunting whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Isn’t this just exquisite?” His words drip with venomous sweetness, as if he’s enjoying the way my body trembles for some friction , the way the world around me feels like it’s closing in. “You’re like a flower, waiting to be plucked—no will of your own, no fight left in you.”

“To bad that flowers are moldy if the person that gave you never had pure intentions” As he speaks, he slowly crouches in front of me, his presence looming like a dark storm cloud ready to consume me entirely. His fingers twitch slightly, as if holding back the urge to touch me, to reaffirm his control. “But first, you must learn your place, little one. And trust me, this is just the beginning.”

The robot’s hands tighten once more around my arms, forcing me further into the cold floor, and I can do nothing but lie there, exposed, my body completely under their power. Dr. Sawyer eye glinting with sadistic pleasure.

“You see… this ‘drug’ is still in the testing process and you are my lucky contested to try it, now that’s quite a lot of fun for both of us, me examining you and you letting me play with you” if he could have a face he will have the most evil grin know to man kind but the weird part is that I am attracted to this to the max.

“Now my lucky winner tonight I will examine you” he orders, his voice cold, as his other robot body holds me firmly in place.

He slowly leans slowly and start to travel his metal fingers onto my hot body starting on my chest and harshly removing my bra getting a whimper out of me and my thighs clenching to get some sorts of friction.

After the removal of my bra he start to examine my soft skin, my soft chest. As he keeps staring at my chest his other robotic body makes me look at his now red eye while the other body takes control of me. His fingers finally reach my nipples as he slowly pinch them making me moan a bit.

“The patience has heightened the sensitivity beyond what is considered normal,” he murmurs, his voice smooth and laced with dark amusement. The words drift through the air, each syllable dripping with a chilling precision as if he’s savoring the very concept of control he wields over me.

His hand doesn’t stop there..oh no. He slowly trace it down to my private aria. As it is near it , he goes to my legs spreading them open so he can have more access to my core and to tease me more.

His cold hands that have turned kids into toys is traveling all over my body , this tough will scare many but in the situation that I am in ..I find it trilling. As his hand travels to my inner thigh studying my reactions , the reactions that are so sweet for him, the obedience that I offer is trilling for someone who never had soft flesh in such a long time…soft flesh that he can experiment to.After enough teasing he decides to eager me and press some fingers to my core making me gasp in the process and also for my hips to move. In an instant 2 other robotic bodies appear that display the yellow eye, are holding my thighs in place.

The doctor chuckles darkly, the sound like ice scraping against bone. “How amusing. You still think you have any control here, don’t you? You’re nothing more than a puppet, and I’m the one pulling the strings. It’s laughable how easily you break. How easily you’ll bend to my will.”

As he continues his torture on my core he decides to rub on my clit, slowly to get a reaction out of me. And a reaction did he get, me whimpering and trying to move for more friction but i can not do such a thing since I am being trapped by 3 robots and that's all left for me to do is beg.

“Sawyer…please…more” i gasp more as I try not to lose my mind.

" You know you hypnotise me always” He chuckles darkly, watching me with an eye that seem to pierce through everything I am. " The patient is acting out of the normal sensibility sensors by simple stimulation”. In an instant my underwear is ripped of me and the cold of the place is making me lose it.

He chuckles seeing me so pathetic but at this point I don’t care, all I need in this moment is his touche ….his cold touche.

“ You are just a broken thing for me to mold, to shape into something… useful.” He laughs, the sound cold and unfeeling. " But don’t worry I will shape you into something great, something only I need to see.”suddenly a hand come to my neck holding in tight but not tight enough.

A whimper escapes my mouth as I try to get it off.

“Now darling don’t move to much or you will get hurt, remember you are here to be my experiment. ” two whole fingers are being inserted into me with no problem since of the drug.

With the insertion I let a lout moan escape my mouth. His cold fingers are ravaging my insides as I lean my head on the floor looking at the red eye that is right on top of me looking at me the whole time.

The doctor continues his examination as I am losing focus on what he is saying but only registering only a few words here and there but non of them seem to make sence.

As he continues his torture I am slowly getting closer to an orgasm and he knows it as well the way i react and the way my walls are getting more and more tighter around his fingers. But I am near my limit he pulls out leaving me empty and unsatisfied.

“Sweet little germ, don’t worry I will make you finish but not on my fingers” his hand holds my face like a predator holds his prey.”All you have to do is look at me in the eye as I ravish you, making you go insane, its simple right? Just dont brake eye contact, I want to see how good you are at keeping it in such a state, if you don’t ”

I slowly nod as I try to make my gaze not leave him.

“Good girl”

Fast but steady i feel something metallic being inserted into me…oh…

In an instant his rithm is fast and hard making my job of looking at him more harder. But at this point I can’t even think the way he is moving, the way he is making me feel so full…making me feel perfect.

His other body’s are making sure that I look at the body that is giving me the pleasure that I deserve. The way my hands are bound together and my legs are being apart from another for him to hit every sweet stop that I have to offer is making me crazy. Your crying of pleasure makes the doctor to be more harsher more meaner more sadistic with his thrusts into your soaked core. He enjoys every single moment they way you do but for him its different from your pleasure. He enjoys the way you squirm, the way you stooped fighting , the way you’ve lost against him in a pathetic matter and all he had to do was to promise you some food and some pleasure for you to crumble down in front of his eyes.

As you continue going dumb on his cock, the doctor is close as well making smart remarks to denigrate you, how much of a slut you are , how many times he would have done this with you if you where his assistant, how he will make you squirm in ways you never imagined.

" You are nothing but prey to me. And now… you’re mine”

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple please. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you a blinding red glow is making you go lose sight for some time. While the doctor is near his orgasm his thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you.

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and sweating.

After some time the doctor comes back to his normal self as the effect of the orgasm has warrend down.

“Ha…if you think we are done you are strongly mistaken angel” His purple eye twitching in a menacingly way.

———————————————————————————

For the past hours I've been put in different positions.

Ass up face down, fucked in the ear , holding by one of his bodys as he continues his torture on my whole. After he had the fun he needed he droped me off into a room where there was only a bed and a table. All I remember was his cold fingers on my check and his alluring voice telling me…

“You’re mine, always and forever, and if you think you can run away from me , remember I am always watching , not even the shadows will help you here”

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hey bitches if you want more of this fucked up fanficts tell me and I will deliver.