Wicked Dreams

Wesker was dreaming.

He found himself doing that more frequently after he had injected himself. The chemicals had changed his brain, along with the rest of his body. Not that he was about to complain about his added strength and speed.

The dreams, that was another story. He found them mildly disturbing. They were…

A strong body wrapped up in chains. Wesker had always appreciated the male form, even if he had rarely show said appreciation for it. Working in the environments that he had hadn’t really lent themselves to such indulgences.

There had been times when he really wanted to indulge. One time in particular. Back in Raccoon City. Back when he had been captain of the S.T.A.R.s.

Christopher, wrapped up in strong silver chains. Stretched out on blue silk sheets. Watching him with wide eyes and trembling muscles. A strip of blue cloth covering that obnoxious mouth.

There were so many wonderful things one could do with a chained up Chris. Where to start? Now that was the real question.

Wesker removed his glove, sliding it up and down Chris’s bared stomach. The skin was soft over steel muscles. He traced the contours of each one.

Fingers traveled upwards, dancing over the cool chains. The contrast between them and the warm skin was exquisite. He let his fingers drag along the cool links.

Chris’s curses were muffled by the gag.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”

There were jus man many things he wanted to do. It was hard to choose.

“No need to rush,” he told himself. He would do everything he wanted eventually. Maybe start in alphabetically order?

He was giving himself a head ache. The beeping noise wasn’t helping the matter any.

“Fuck,” he spat, his arm swiping at the alarm clock as he sat up. It was almost dinner time. He had wa ano another fine day in the small ass town of Westbrooke.