Fear Complex

The sound of a soldering iron echoed throughout the garage as it hit the
floor, rolling towards the wall. Ratchet sat down soon after, fiddling with the
codpiece on his DreadZone standard-issue armor, trying to get a better grip on
it.

The satisfying creak earned a smile out of him — just because the DeadLock
collars themselves couldn't be hacked, didn't mean the armor was equally
protected. He'd stayed up too many hours trying to pry this thing off as it was,
and he wasn't about to let himself pass this chance up.

At this time of the night, surely there had to be fewer cameras running, or
at least enough that he could finally earn some well-deserved time alone.Clank
was powered down, Al was asleep (albeit stinky); finally, he had the window of
time he needed to do as he liked; which by DreadZone standards, meant horribly
little.

The codpiece cracked away a little further; even as he winced at the newfound
pain from its removal, it would go away in time. The most important part was
free now, and that's what mattered.

"Mmff . . ." He managed out, taking a tighter grip around himself, leaning up
further against the bulwark. It was going to take more than a little tug to
actually get anything out of this; as if the lack of reading material didn't
make things any easier, the rest of his armor was still on, and without the
usual comfort of putting his bare back up against a chair or letting his toes
wiggle freely . . . well, it just wasn't the same. The added bite of his thigh
armor against his hips didn't help, either.

He adjusted his stance, slipping his feet under him to kneel and hold himself
a little higher up, rocking forward just enough to lean his head up against the
wall as a second experimental yank freed his tail, bringing only slight comfort
to his sore anus. His tail twitched from behind, clearly happier in the air, but
it was still an awkward position for him.

His knees slipped open a few more centimeters, and another reach down
confirmed that this was still a better position than before.

Just start already! He badgered himself, taking a few deep breaths.
It's just pain. Pleasure counters pain. The sooner I start getting to the
pleasure, the less this position will hurt...

A brief stroke confirmed that he was right; of course he was right. He'd done
this enough times in a Commando suit to know that it could be done, but then
again, the Commando suit even on its worst days fit better than this. Premium
nano-carbon fabrics, padded interior, breathable material . . .

He groaned. It was one thing to get aroused from clothing, but here he was
fantasizing about old armor. He couldn't even be cliché enough to at
least imagine something like Sasha standing buck naked in front of him, or
clumsy old Angela posing for the Lombax . . .

Course, it would have helped had he ever seen them naked. At least
with armor he had the excuse that he'd been more intimately connected to any of
his suits than he'd ever been with a girl. Granted, as much as he laughed at the
clichè that only virgins survived the horror films, the irony that he'd gone and
nearly gotten himself killed for the sake of the galaxy so many times without
even so much as a courtesy fuck just made things worse.

It took a few strokes — one, after another, after another, a slow tempo that
only he could stand, rocking his head against the wall, before he decided to
pull the gauntlet off his other hand as well, tapping that tight hole. It was
still rough, and somewhat raw, and yet...

He breathed in as a fingertip poked inside. It made the rest of his job a
little easier, somehow. He closed his eyes, trying to zone out on the feeling
coming from his groin, eager to finish this. He had to convince himself he still
could do it, before he could get more comfortable and actually enjoy it.

His eyes began to flutter . . . he could already feel a throaty cry begin to
swell up . . . just a few more . . .

"Hello there . . . rodent."

One word flashed through Ratchet's mind: Fuck.

Ratchet froze, his eyes wide in restrained shock for all of three seconds,
what little yet-so-critical fur he had exposed bristling. "Let me guess, Ace;
you're right behind me, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Ratchet's eyes went level, even as the rest of him was still in that all too
vulnerable position, somehow hoping if he didn't move it wouldn't be as
humiliating. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know you like a little anal on top of the obvious."

" . . . Hardlight, I'm in no mood for this. Unless you want to tell Vox you
got cockslapped by a Lombax half your height, either fuck off or get over here
and make this a proper circle-jerk."

Ace sneered down at the Lombax. "I'd be a little more intimidated if you
didn't have your asshole filled up to the second knuckle."

"Don't think I can't still hit you while I'm like this; after all, it's
common knowledge that you're on your knees for Vox on a regular basis. What's
one more c-? CK!!" Ratchet managed out, before Ace grabbed him around his neck,
forcing him down onto the ground and finally pushing his hands away from
himself, splaying out to try and recover from the assault faster.

"You oughta remember where you sit on this little 'food chain' you seem to
have dreamt up, rodent." Ace snarled, holding Ratchet down to the floor. "If you
think I'm Vox's bitch now, you better believe how much worse it's gonna be on
you . . ."

A heavy lurch rumbled inside Ratchet's stomach. "Get off of me, you overgrown
ape!"

"Hey, I'm not the one making idle threats here." Ace smirked, taking hold of
Ratchet's tail, sliding his hand against the grain of the feline's fur until the
heel of his hand was down at the base of Ratchet's tail, right over his
entrance. "In fact, I'd say there's nothing 'idle' about my threats."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm sure Vox would just love for it to get out that his
golden boy Exterminator's a rapist." Ratchet grumbled, trying to maintain his
tone of voice while looking back at Ace. "Now get your hands off of me before
I-!"

"Before you what, Ratchet? Kill me?" Ace chuckled, keeping his hand on
Ratchet's right cheek, the thumb entirely too close to the base of his tail
again. "Come on, Lombax; are you really going to try and convince me that giving
you the ride you're well on your way to earning is somehow worse than killing
you? Or that you're somehow not already being 'raped' by Vox's system, with that
collar around your neck?"

His tail froze in midair as his brain slowed down, trying to parse what Ace
was saying to him. "That's different! . . . Isn't it?"

A low chuckle rose out of Ace's throat, and the Exterminator's goatee started
to tickle the back of Ratchet's left ear. "Not enough, little prisoner . . . you
see, Gleeman trusts me enough to let me use the 'shock' function on those
collars . . . anyone's collar, really, including yours. If I wanted to make you
do something for me, all I'd have to do is zap you into submission."

It took a few moments to pass before Ratchet had the nerve to respond.
"You're lying."

"Oh, really?"

Ace sat up, pulling his hand away long enough to tap a panel on his
bandolier. Suddenly, every fiber in the Lombax's body shot up and out, filling
him with paralysis and pain. Ratchet could feel his heart skipping beats and yet
. . .

He hissed, taking hold of himself as soon as he could move. This was turning
him on?!

"Now that's a rare response . . ." Ace snickered. "Something tells me
you're starting to like it here."

"Go away." Ratchet snarled, reaching out for his pelvic armor. A quick shot
from Ace's blaster caused it to skitter a good three meters across the floor,
though.

"I'm not finished." Ace purred, walking back over and taking hold of
Ratchet's tail again. "Let's review just how utterly fucked you are before I
even get my pants off, shall we?"

Ratchet jerked in reflex, but the grip on his tail was too much. His hands
quickly went to his head, trying to get the thought of the inevitable out of his
head. "No . . ."

"So... you can't fight the electric shocks from the collar, you're currently
not armed right now so you can't shoot me, you're certainly not strong enough to
overpower me . . ." Ace held up fingers as he listed off each item, counting as
he went. ". . . and you've already removed enough of your armor for me to get in
there. The only thing that would make it any more obvious you're at my mercy
would be to tie you up."

"Don't even think about it!" Ratchet snarled, turning around to try and take
Ace on directly, but all that did was get him pushed up against Al's lab table
again, next to a set of jumper cables. Ratchet's eyes opened back up upon seeing
the cables, and they went wide.

Ace grinned upon seeing the Lombax's latest reaction. "Hey, when opportunity
knocks . . ."

The progression from 'lying on the table' to 'frogtied on the floor' was
quick and brutal. A hard elbow to his stomach, a hard uppercut across his face,
and the unceremonious toss to the floor were all it took to wind Ratchet enough
for Ace to tie his hands behind him, with his ankles tied to his thighs, leaving
his knees spread apart and now very much unable to cover, let alone protect,
himself.

This was too much. "Get away . . . get away!"

"Hey, like I told you, you're already helpless and unable to do anything
about it." Ace chuckled again, picking up Ratchet and placing him back on the
lab table, taking a few more cables in order to secure Ratchet to the table
himself. It didn't take long for Ratchet to notice that while most of him was on
the counter, he was dangling all too uncomfortably off the edge of one side for
his liking.

"Ace, please . . . no . . ."

A quick snap of fabric on flesh silenced the Lombax. "I warned you, didn't I,
rodent?"

Ratchet's tail had to be knotting itself by now, trembling as he was, trying
to break free. "Let me go . . . dammit, Ace, let me go or I'll kill you!"

"Right now? I'd pay to see that." Ace purred, his hands back at the base of
Ratchet's tail again, before wincing at the poof of Lombax fur that was blinding
his face. "Although for now I'll just settle to see... Let's find a little
something to keep the rest of you anchored, hm?"

Another cable made its way into Ace's hands, and suddenly, just above
Ratchet's collar, he had his tail tied right around his neck. "There we go . .
."

"Ace . . . come on, Ace, this isn't funny . . ."

"Really? I find it hilarious . . . Now, unless you want me to involve Gleeman
in all of this, I suggest you behave."

Ratchet froze. As disgusting as the idea of being raped by Ace Hardlight was,
the very mental image of Gleeman inside Ratchet was just too disturbing to even
contemplate.

"So... should I go wake Vox up and invite him to play?"

"No... God, no..."

"Well then... let's see what you're willing to do."