Resident Evil:: My Pet

The touches on his body were rough. He imagined that whoever had their hands on him had never practiced any sort of gentleness in their life. It wasn’t just a rough touch, but it seemed that there was pleasure in causing discomfort. He was in darkness, but he could feel that mean-spirited glee behind the harsh caresses.

He voiced a small whimper as nails grazed his flesh; not out of pain, but out of something caught desperately between fear and pleasure. He tried to remind himself of his name, of where he was, of how he had gotten there, but he simply couldn’t remember. All he remembered was a feeling of horrendous pain, and then that rush of darkness that had swallowed him; that had him still.

“Quiet now, pet,” a smoky voice murmured, and the touch against his skin morphed suddenly into gentle strokes, he could feel fingertips feathering across the apparent marks the man had placed on him with his nails. He felt the warmth of the man’s breath against his lips then, could almost feel the tickle against his own as he spoke to him. “You’ll want to be a good boy and not make too much noise. I’d hate to have to be… rough with you.”

“W-W-W…” He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He felt as though there was sandpaper lining his throat, and his tongue was too big for his mouth. “W-Where am I?,” he finally managed, in a dusty croak.

There was no answer, only that insistent petting down his stomach, and the burn of the man’s breath on his lips. He could piece together only the barest of fragments in his memory, but at the very least, his name returned to him. Steve Burnside. With that knowledge securely under his belt, Steve began to relax. As much as he could, given the circumstances.

“Would you like some water, my pet? You must be awfully thirsty.”

He should have refused, but he didn’t dare. It was not out of fear that he accepted, but his lust for the drink. “Y-yes,” Steve rasped, “Please.”

He heard the footsteps of the man retreating and breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that he would be back soon was lost on him, he was only glad to be rid of him, at least for the moment. The next task that lay before him was figuring out where he was, and he couldn’t very well do that in this darkness.

Try opening your eyes, jackass.

He did, slowly, and felt like a complete idiot when dim light struck his eyes. The room he was in was utilitarian, completely devoid of affectation. He looked around and found he was lying nude on some sort of metal table. He craned his neck up, crying out as pain creaked through his aching body, and saw his wrists were bound to the table with thick leather straps. His cry of pain turned to one of alarm and fear. He struggled, trying to free himself, but he was bound tight.

“Ah, ah, I thought I told you to be a good boy,” the man chided. Steve looked to him, eyes bulging with fear, and saw that he was nothing like what he had expected. He was slim and handsome with blonde hair combed back from his forehead and sunglasses hiding his eyes. He didn’t look like anyone threatening… but Steve could feel the strength pouring out of him. “This won’t do at all. You have to behave. Now, stop struggling.” The man held up the glass of water in his slender fingers. “If you want this.”

Steve ceased his frantic struggling at once. He hoped that his eyes weren’t as desperate as he felt, but when the man chuckled softly, he knew that they were. At the moment, he really didn’t care, all he wanted was the water the man had. The blonde stepped closer, hand sweeping under Steve’s head, cradling it in his palm. It was a strangely erotic touch, but what struck him even more was how much he liked it. His head was slowly lifted, and the glass was brought and tipped against his lips.

Steve drank greedily, knowing that his stomach would likely refuse so much water, but unable to stop. The blonde pulled it away however. “Easy, easy,” he purred, tipping the glass back against Steve’s mouth. “You’ll make yourself sick, you idiot.”

He drank slower this time. He could feel the liquid soothing his dry, scratchy throat, filling up his stomach. It was the sweetest drink he had ever tasted in his life. He felt light-headed, swimmy, but deeply satisfied.

When the glass was empty, the blonde set it aside and lowered Steve’s head back against the table. “There, don’t you feel better now?,” he asked.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed, licking his lips. “Yeah. But who the hell are you? And why am I tied up like this? You’re not some kinda pervert are you?” Now that his thirst had been satiated, Steve found that he was feeling more and more like himself. Not even being completely at the man’s mercy would clip his fiery tongue.

“Some kind, yes, but that has very little to do with this,” the man laughed, “As for who I am, I doubt very much that it means anything to you. But… My name is Albert Wesker. You’re tied up like this because you’re… my pet, at the moment. Is that satisfactory?”

“Pet?,” Steve blustered, “Look, buddy, I’m no one’s pet.”

“And I’m no one’s buddy,” Wesker growled, fingers curling under Steve’s jaw and tightening. “If you want to continue living, I’d suggest you put a leash on that tongue of yours. Do we have an understanding?”

Steve felt that the man could crush his jaw very easily. He nodded slowly, staring up at the man with a mixture of awe and terror.

“Good,” Wesker said. He ran his fingers through his hair, as though gaining some semblance of control once more. It seemed the line between lucidity and insane fury was very thin with this man. Steve felt his stomach sink with dread. “A boy as stupid as you couldn’t understand my reasoning,” Wesker explained, “So I won’t waste my breath. Suffice it to say, you are very important. And not just to me. There are others out there who want to get their hands on you. But I can’t let that happen. So here you are.”

“You need me?,” Steve asked.

“Yes. But don’t think that means I’ll hesitate to kill you if you force my hand,” Wesker murmured, fingertips brushing against Steve’s cheek. “Sometimes I have a little trouble with my temper.”

“My wrists hurt,” Steve whispered meekly, writhing his body a little on the table. He could feel the man’s eyes on his body, leering at him, and he was surprised by the little bolt of pleasure this knowledge gave him.

“I’m a little hesitant to free you,” Wesker murmured thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “I’m not sure if you can be trusted.”

“What could I possibly do to you, anyway?,” Steve muttered, looking away from the blonde and sighing heavily. “I know when someone has me by the balls.”

Wesker chuckled, “Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought.”

He freed the boy, watching as he rotated his wrists to loosen them. He winced with pain as his wrists popped audibly. Steve sat up slowly from the table, gingerly throwing his legs over the side to sit with his feet dangling above the floor. “Can I have my clothes?,” he asked softly, face burning.

“Now, why would you want those?,” Wesker purred, slipping between the boy’s spread thighs. Steve gasped and lifted his hands against the man’s chest, meaning to push him away. But he was intensely surprised to find the man was all smooth leather and lean muscle. He bit his lips and kept his hands on Wesker’s chest, fingertips slipping almost shyly against the zipper to his leather suit.

“Do you know what you are?,” Wesker asked against the cup of Steve’s air. “You’re extremely valuable. If certain people found out about your existence, they’d pay a hefty price to get their hands on you.”

“So why do you want to keep me here?,” Steve questioned curiously. He really didn’t care about what the man was saying, his teenage body was desperately horny, and he liked the way the man’s body felt against him. “You could clean up if you let them have me, right?”

“That’s true,” Wesker murmured, leather fingertips sliding down Steve’s body, curling against his naked hip. “But I’m not a greedy man. At least, not when it comes to money. Power is what rules the world, my pet, and with you at my disposal, there’s nothing that can stop me.”

Steve shivered, gripping the zipper to the strangely sexy suit and lowering it just enough to expose Wesker’s chest. His fingers slid inside, lightly scratching Wesker’s warm flesh. “There is just one thing, before we continue,” Wesker said, grabbing Steve’s wrist and drawing his hand away. “You’ll have to swear to me that you’ll stay with me. Otherwise, you might find yourself in a very uncomfortable situation.”

Steve winced as the man squeezed his already sore wrist, his hard body pressing tight against him, his mouth inches from Steve’s own. “Swear to me.”

“I-I swear,” Steve gasped. Without any memory, there was really no where for him to go. And Wesker seemed to want him, to need him even. After all, he was just a teenage boy, that kind of affection, albeit it rough, was alien to him. He enjoyed the feel of the man against him, the smell of him, and he wanted to stay with him. “I swear I won’t go,” Steve murmured, slowly sliding his arms around Wesker’s neck, “Okay?”

The man chuckled, gloved fingers curling at Steve’s hips, mouth crashing against the boy’s powerfully, his tongue slipping between his battered lips. Steve knew that whatever happened, he had no control, Wesker was in charge, and whatever happened between them would be reckless and brutal. Steve was not frightened by the raw power of the other man, if anything, it excited him. His lips were pulsing pleasantly, his tongue throbbing as Wesker ground his teeth against it. His cock was now furiously hard, pressing against Wesker’s belly, the warm leather rubbing against it erotically.

“Ah, that hurts,” Steve whined, knowing on some level that Wesker would revel in his whimpers. The man was sadistic and horrible; Steve craved him. Wesker chuckled, shoving the teen across the steel table, spreading his thighs wide. Steve looked up at him, and Wesker loved the look of confusion and fear in his overbright eyes. One gloved hand wrapped around the boy’s cock, squeezing it roughly until a dry moan struggled from Steve’s throat. He tried to wrestle from the man, but Wesker was strong, and held him firmly in place.

“Wh-what…ohhh,” Steve’s confused stammers melted into a low groan, his back arching several inches as the pleasure was all over him. Wesker’s fingers stroked his cock with masterful ease, squeezing, tugging, at times barbarously twisting, in a way that was awful and wonderful. Steve felt his head slide from the edge of the table, and wasted no time or energy in correcting himself, he laid there, perfectly splayed for the blonde, thighs wide open and hips lifting against his hand.

Leather fingers caressed his balls, weighed them, fondled. Steve shuddered, his belly tightening as the fleshy mass in Wesker’s digits pulled up. A breathy moan was all that warned the man, as Steve felt hot come jet over his hitching belly. The fingers retreated, and there was a low noise. Disappointment, anger? No, just mild irritation it seemed. Wesker chuckled. “So soon, my pet? Well, that’s alright. We’re not finished yet.”

There was a tongue against his shaft then, which was slowly going limp, but twitched eagerly in response. He felt a pearl of come rolling down his sensitive flesh, and then that tongue chased it, licked it up. Wesker hummed satisfactorily, licking up to the crest of Steve’s cock, working his tongue in slow circles. Steve was hard immediately, face tensed with pleasure and pain as Wesker worked on him. His mouth devoured him, slick, hot, and Steve cried out shamelessly, bucking against Wesker’s face, blindly braiding his fingers in the blonde’s short hair.

His thighs lifted and locked around Wesker’s shoulders, and with some struggle Steve pulled his head up just enough to watch the man suck him, trapped there between his thighs with his face pressed harshly against the thick thatch of Steve’s pubic hair. There was no gagging, reflexive or self-imposed, as he took Steve into the back of his throat and stayed there, breathing in the teen’s musky scent, the odor of sweaty flesh. The curly red hairs tickled at his nose, but he stayed there for a few more moments before lifting off messily, Steve’s cock now slick and standing upright, flushed and beautiful.

Wesker licked his lips, wild eyes glittering as they fell on Steve’s face. The boy dropped his head back, as though to guard against the meeting of their eyes. But Wesker would have none of it, he yanked Steve down a few inches by his narrow hips, forcing the boy’s green orbs to look up at him in surprise.

“On your belly,” Wesker prodded. He seemed frenzied now, in a rush. He stood straight, slipping out of the web of Steve’s thighs, and the boy could see clearly why he was so anxious. The leather suit offered little in the way of breathing room, and Wesker was sporting a not inconsiderable hard-on. “Come on,” he urged, digging his blunt nails into Steve’s inner thigh.

Steve whimpered and slowly rolled onto his belly. He gasped as the cold metal table rubbed against his slick cock, squashing it against his body. Wesker jerked his hips up, propping his ass up into the air. There was a moment when nothing happened, and Steve grew uneasy, but then there were hands -gloveless now– squeezing his ass cheeks, spreading them apart, and hot breathed rushed against his hole.

“Ahhnn,” Steve half moaned and half whined, “Ahh, what…”

The question was dissolved in a gasp as Wesker’s tongue probed at his ass hole, licking the furrowed skin, sliding inside, slipping out to tease. Soon, his entrance was as slick and pulsing as his cock, which he slowly stroked with Wesker’s tongue pounding into him. He was lost in a daze of ecstasy, his eyes blank and half-lidded, his lips – cherry red now from their earlier abuse– quivering. He believed he must have whispered something about his climax approaching, for Wesker’s tongue retreated, and Steve could hear the sound of a zipper.

Getting naked… Steve blushed.

Wesker grabbed him by the hair and jerked him off the table, forcing the teen onto his knees. “Get me ready, my pet.”

“With spit?,” Steve asked incredulously, nervous green eyes flicking up to the blonde. It was then that he noticed how huge the man was. Not just with his height and the lovely shape of his defined muscles. But… “That?,” Steve blustered, tracing the behemoth which stood erect between Wesker’s legs.

Wesker chuckled, twining his fingers in Steve’s hair and dragging him against his body. With a swivel of his hips he rubbed his cock across the boy’s face, over his pretty red lips. “Yes,” he answered in a low rumble, “Unless you’d prefer I went in dry… It doesn’t bother me…”

Steve measured the monster with his eyes. Ten, eleven inches, easily. He immediately began to put his mouth on the man’s cock, nipping and licking and looking up for encouragement. He received none, just a low hum in Wesker’s throat and fingers curling tighter in his hair.

His tongue massaged the warm flesh, trailing down to his balls. They were smooth and heavy in his mouth, and he let his eyes flutter closed, sucking and licking and gently biting. The skin was salty, hot, delicious, he moaned a little and placed his hands at Wesker’s hips.

“Mmm,” Wesker almost sighed, the fingers in Steve’s hair slipping down to grip his shoulder. His cock throbbed against Steve’s cheek. “Good. But you should make it wet if you want things to go smoothly.” Steve popped his mouth off of Wesker’s balls, licking his lips and tracing his fingertips over the smooth flesh, now red with abuse. He opened his mouth and let Wesker press the tip of his cock inside, tongue greedily licking up his pre-come, eyes once more turned up to the blonde. He could fit less than half in his mouth, but that seemed to be enough, for the moment. Wesker let him suck slowly and sloppily, spit sliding down the shaft, which Wesker massaged in.

The head was lightly licked, urethra probed, flesh explored centimeter by centimeter. Wesker was content, for a while, but when he couldn’t stand it any longer he ordered the boy to open his mouth wide before he rammed his impressive length into his throat. Steve choked, pushing on Wesker’s hips, but the blonde did not back away. He rocked himself against Steve’s throat, feeling it clutch on him, the boy now beating against him feebly.

“Swallow it,” Wesker purred, “Mm, you look so good choking on me, my pet.”

Steve felt tears crawl down his cheeks, but he obeyed, fighting his gorge and allowing the man to fuck his throat, with slow, long rolls of his hips.

Wesker was beginning to grow breathless. His body was shaking, and Steve closed his eyes as Wesker murmured to him, a guttural moan quaking his chest before he came hard down Steve’s throat. Steve couldn’t say for how long the man came, but before he had finished pumping his come down Steve’s throat, he pulled out of his mouth and stroked his cock, letting a few hot jets soak his upturned face. Steve retched, not out of disgust, but as his gag reflex finally triggered. He gasped in breath, feeling the come sliding down his cheeks, over his lips.

Wesker laughed, sounding almost unaffected by his massive orgasm. His cock was still impossibly hard as he pulled Steve to his feet and proceeded to lick his come from the teen’s face. Steve grimaced, but pressed their bodies tightly together, their cocks rubbing and a shiver working up his spine.

Wesker kissed him roughly, squeezing their cock’s together as his tongue probed Steve’s mouth. The teen gave a low whimper, scratching Wesker’s chest but making no attempts to push him away. There was nothing he could do to fight the man, and he really didn’t want to wrestle him away. It was strange, but it felt good. Better than good, it was probably the most pleasure Steve had ever felt.

Wesker jerked him around, a fluid motion that forced Steve to bend over the steel table, hands planted as his thighs spread. Wesker’s cock pressed against his bottom, and Steve whined, resisting. There was a loud pop, as Wesker spanked him, a stinging pain burning at the back of his thigh. His whimpers quieted to breathy gasps as Wesker hit him again, skin now sizzling and flaring. Still, his cock was rising up against his belly. He felt dirty and stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’re starting to get on my nerves,” Wesker told him, “Stay still.” Steve obeyed, feeling a hand sweep down between his thighs, spreading them further apart, fingertips brushing against his balls, sensuous and feathery. For a little while, there was nothing, but Steve didn’t dare look back at the blonde, he didn’t want to encourage any more punishment.

Wesker’s fingers thrust into him knuckle deep, twisting and curling inside him. Steve moaned helplessly, feeling a drop of pre-come roll down his cock. He shivered and bit his lips, eyes rolling up as Wesker fucked him with his fingers. “Ah, shit,” Steve groaned, chest rumbling with some animal noise. “Ah, shit, yeah. That feels so fuckin’ good.”

Wesker chuckled, scissoring his fingers and lifting them slightly. Steve howled in pleasure, body bucking as Wesker teased his sweet spot. His cock was now painfully hard, pulsing against his belly, sticky fluid leaking steadily down the shaft. He had never been so horny, and it was getting uncomfortable. “Nnn, fuck me,” Steve gasped, working himself on Wesker’s thick fingers. “Ahh, please. Please fuck me. I need it.”

Wesker pushed his thighs further apart, lifting Steve’s hips so that his ass was on full display, the upper half of his body pressed down against the cool table. He climbed up, and for a moment, Steve thought he meant to fit his knees on the table, to cozy up behind him, but Wesker was no ordinary man, and he had no intention of fucking the little boy like one.

He placed his feet on the table, bent his knees, angled himself at Steve’s entrance. The boy cried out as he shoved himself inside, making no effort to get the boy used to his horrible, wonderful size. He pushed until his balls brushed against Steve’s backside, sighing out contently as the little red head made heated little noises for him. Noises a whore would make, Wesker thought, and grinned.

“Mmm, look how you swallow me,” Wesker purred, strong hands gripping Steve’s ass as he started to fuck him, fast, like an animal. “Nnn, you have a greedy little ass don’t you, my pet?”

“Aaahhh! It hurts, please!” He thought he might burst from the pain, he could feel Wesker’s cock deep, so deep, almost impossibly deep. “Please stop.” He was crying and struggling, but Wesker kept pounding inside of him. He could feel himself bleeding, knew the man was tearing him up inside. The tears were hot on his face, in his nose and throat, choking him.

“Shh, shh,” Wesker murmured, more irritably than comforting.

Steve wasn’t sure how long Wesker plowed his ass, he felt himself drifting after a while, the pain too intense, too white-hot, to be studied. He felt sure that a few times he was sobbing and screaming, but he wasn’t sure if he had only dreamt this or not.

After a while, the pain began to mellow. He could still feel himself bleeding, could still feel the aching soreness of his ripped flesh, but the strokes deep inside of him began to feel better, began to trigger his primal arousal. Wesker was grunting like a beast as he fucked him, squeezing his ass and hips, the sound of his balls slapping against him filling Steve with revulsion and helpless, dirty lust.

“You’re my little whore aren’t you?,” Wesker asked him, panting.

“Ahnnn, yeah, yeah,” Steve cried out, Wesker’s cock pushing against his prostate, making his words shiver past his lips. “Unh, fuck!”

Wesker spread him wider as he plunged deep inside, his breath uneven, almost desperate. Steve could see his feet, toes curling and twitching, as though he were growing unsteady, or reaching some filthy, horrible end.

And he did reach the end, and Steve was not ready for the force of him. He heard Wesker give a gruff breath, and that was all, before his hot come was pumping into him. Still so deep. He closed his eyes and cried brokenly against his forearm, even as his body moved against the man, milking his cock, squeezing around it.

“Nnn, fuck,” Wesker growled, and the pressure relaxed as the man removed himself. Steve could feel come and blood on his thighs, could feel the dull ache deep inside of him, and he knew that he would be unable to move for a very long time, not without the pain coming, sharp and cruel.

Wesker stepped down from the table, rolling the boy over and looking down into his raw, leaking eyes. His hand gripped Steve’s cock and stroked him, Steve mewling and twisting against it, lower lip trembling. Wesker didn’t stop however, he didn’t remove his hand until Steve was crying out and shooting his come all over his belly.

“There, my pet,” Wesker cooed to him, “Better now?”

He would never be better. He knew that. He was trapped with a monster. There was no escape, and now that Wesker had defiled him in such a way, he knew that he belonged to him. There was no mistaking the menacing twist of his smile, proclaiming that he was the master, and Steve was the small, weak pet.

Steve felt the man come down on top of him, he was kissed, strangely gentle. “Better now?”

“Y-yes,” Steve whimpered.

“Good,” Wesker murmured, “Clean yourself up, then. I have a lot of work to do before the night is over.” He stepped back from the boy and gathered his clothes. Before he left, he propped the sunglasses on his forehead, and Steve could have screamed in horror at the sight of his eyes, but he could only give a dusty croak of fear.

“You’re mine now,” Wesker told him, his eyes burning and raw and monstrous. “There’s no escaping me.”

No. Steve knew that.

“Clean yourself up and get some sleep,” Wesker said, a slow grin spreading over his face as he lowered his sunglasses. “You look like shit.”

Steve listened to his laughter echo behind him, and felt his mind split.