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"Are you sure?"
Snake groaned, barely managing to nod.
Ocelot snorted, then shut the machine down. "I guess you don't measure up to your father after all. It's a shame, we were going to have so much fun together."
Snake ground his teeth.
"But I did promise." Ocelot took a radio from his belt, presumably contacting the guards outside. "We're done here, take this one back to the cell then bring the girl down."
The radio crackled back with a fuzzy 'yes, sir.'
Snake turned his gaze away.
"You're going to kill her?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But you don't get a say in that now, just be glad she's taking your place."
Despite the medical treatment, with all the holes in her, Meryl was still too weak to walk. When the guards carried her from the sickbay she stayed quiet. Even with them doing most of the work it was exhausting just trying to move through the pain in her injured limbs. By the time she arrived at the makeshift torture dungeon, she was panting from the exertion.
There was no way of running away like this, never mind fighting her way out like what seemed was the only choice.
The room was a medical storage room back when she was first stationed on the base. Snake had been here, she saw him just minutes ago through the monitor, Wolf had forced her to watch.
It was her turn now, and what little she could do to struggle didn’t do a damn thing to keep her from being strung up on the same torture platform with hundreds of little metal electrical contacts burning cold against her bare skin. Her toes barely touched the floor with dense metal restraints spreading her limbs wide.
A line of icy sweat dribbled down her back. She was painfully exposed now, they couldn't exactly let her keep the uniform and go back to freely undermining their terrorist action... But surely there was at least one pair of civvy trousers they could have given her instead of dragging her room to room half-naked.
That was probably the point.
The smell of bleach burned Meryl’s nose, but she could still smell the stench of male sweat and urine under it. There was a tangy smell in the air too, almost like the air after an electrical storm, without the smell of rain.
As soon as the guards secured Meryl, they left the room, leaving her completely alone with the psycho himself.
Revolver Ocelot.
"So.” Ocelot was doing something at the back of the room, out of her view. He was still dressed like a cowboy, always was every time she'd gotten a glimpse of him. He'd shed his coat and lost an arm since the take over began. “It's been a while since we've had a chance to talk."
"I don't think there's anything to discuss." Meryl said, trying to give him a defiant glare without any success. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" She didn't necessarily believe it, but she had to ask.
"Kill you?" Ocelot laughed. "If I wanted that I'd have left you in the snow, let you bleed out from the holes Wolf put in you."
Eventually Ocelot turned to her, walking in a deliberate and unnecessary swagger to make his spurs chime with every step.
“You see, the party here got a little too intense for Snake, so he asked for you to take his place.” Ocelot’s drawl was painfully exaggerated, so in love with the sound of his own voice he had to draw it out. “It’s a shame because he was putting on such an excellent show, but it seems I’ll have to take my frustrations out on you.”
As Ocelot gestured broadly, Meryl noticed Ocelot had an erection quite blatantly tenting the front of his trousers. Meryl’s blood ran cold.
Ocelot, however, did not reach for his belt. Instead, he turned to the console, adjusting far more dials and switches than seemed remotely rational for the controls of a torture device.
Meryl was trying not to think about the implications of Ocelot’s erection, trying not to anticipate what would happen when Ocelot switched on the equipment. Jarringly, Meryl found herself wondering just how many tax dollars went into a bespoke torture machine and getting it onto a research base, or if it was something Ocelot had had arranged personally.
“What are you doing?” Meryl asked.
Ocelot’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “You see, while I said I wouldn’t kill you, I didn’t promise anything about what I might do to you.” He gestured at the camera in the corner.
The old man stretched, making his spine pop audibly multiple times, then rolling each shoulder slowly and deliberately before he approached Meryl.
“I really did want to play with Snake more, but I promised." Ocelot dry-swallowed a palmful of pills before he continued, "Since I’m out of the action and the other prisoner decided to disappoint me, I’ll have to take my time playing with you.”
Meryl sucked on her tongue to draw up a mouthful of saliva, waiting until Ocelot got close to her to launch it at his face. "Why let that stop you, you sick fuck?"
It should have been a clear shot but his reaction was terrifyingly fast, he caught the spit in his remaining gloved hand without even flinching.
Rather than respond to the comment, Ocelot looked Meryl in the eyes and, much to her disgust, licked her saliva from his glove. Methodically getting between the fingers and making such a disgusting show of wrapping his tongue around the leather, that Meryl was entirely unprepared for when he grabbed her chin and 'kindly' returned the spit with a generous helping of his own by forcing his mouth against hers.
Caught off guard, Meryl spluttered, choked and coughed. The mixed slime drooling down her lips and chin as she tried to get it out of her mouth and throat. Her mouth filled with the sticky flavour of what had to be the most disgusting cigarette after-taste she’d ever encountered.
“Don’t play games you can’t win. I’ve been an expert at this longer than you’ve been alive.”
Ocelot then pushed a hunk of rubber to Meryl’s mouth as she opened it to respond.
“Bite down on this. You don’t want to crack those pearly whites of yours or bite off your tongue.”
'You’re a piece of shit,' Meryl tried to say, but it was garbled beyond recognition around the gag. The rubber tasted of oil and some kind of sanitiser.
What kind of patronising bullshit was this?
Meryl tried to work the rubber out of her mouth, just seconds before she could spit it out, her jaw seized with all the rest of her muscles as the machine roared to life.
The first hit of electricity had Meryl convulsing against the restraints. She could feel the involuntary spasms of her muscles as it felt as if every nerve in her body was on fire. Her back arched as her limbs twitched and jerked, straining against the constraints. Her scream was muffled by her clenched jaw, but it was still obvious in the eternity until the voltage died down.
The chunk of rubber very nearly fell out of her mouth, only to be caught by the twitching of her seizing jaw as her muscles spasmed with aftershocks.
Then the machine roared to life again.
It felt like it kept going, on and on and on. Electricity roared through her body again and again and again, until she was on the verge of tears and begging for it to stop. The only thing that stopped her was that she couldn't get enough breath through her clamped teeth.
Ocelot seemed to have found a certain rhythm to his ministrations. Just when she thought she might catch her breath between shocks, the machine powered up to cut her off. Just enough to keep her breathless and exhaust her, never enough to make her pass out.
Meryl's screams had turned into tears and hoarse coughing by the time the machine powered down completely and the restraint platform turned ninety degrees back.
She had lost track of time by the point Ocelot called a halt to the torture. She was slumped against the machine, muscles twitching with aftershocks, drool matted to her chin, sweat starting to drip down her cheeks. She could feel tears soaking her face, mixing with the sweat on her temples. Her entire body ached, every muscle tightened and cramping from the sheer overuse. Gravity itself felt like too much weight on her to lift.
Ocelot loomed over her, the blinding overhead light making him look far too pale and illuminating his white hair like a very misplaced halo.
"How about it?" he asked, pulling the hunk of rubber from Meryl's mouth as if that would make it easier to respond in her state. "You had enough?"
She'd had more than enough, Meryl wanted to say, but that was the point. She wanted to spit at him, punch him in the balls, anything to make him go away. She couldn't speak, though. Her muscles were too weary to even twitch, she couldn't even lift her head to keep track of Ocelot's location. Even just turning her head was a chore.
“As lovely as those screams are," Ocelot tapped her cheek with his gloved hand, "You just don’t do anything for me in the looks department, so I may just need to be creative if I want to take care of this.”
Meryl heard a rustle of fabric and Ocelot loudly sucking in air through his teeth before pushing himself up onto the platform. Meryl felt her heart skip a beat, her breath caught in her throat. She could still see his erection outlined through the front of his pants, straining against his zip.
Meryl had almost expected it since she first spotted the hard-on, but it hadn’t prepared her for the reality of it. It felt like an ice cold hand grabbed on to her stomach and squeezed as the man on top of her undid his belt and fly.
Get up! Her mind screamed at her. She couldn’t. Even without the restraints or her injuries, between the twitching spasms of her muscle and the raw exhaustion from pain, there was no way for her to get anywhere fast, let alone escape an old man who physically competed with men half his age.
Meryl tried to hide that she was afraid as the man rolled down his trousers. The moment his erection popped out, she flinched. The slimy tip of the withered old thing came dangerously close to her nose.
She uselessly struggled against her bonds again, there wasn’t much she could accomplish against solid metal except feel the smooth, cold surface dig into her wrists and ankles, but the raw instinct was difficult to suppress with the old man right on top of her, no matter how weakened and hurt she was.
The machine had held against people much bigger and stronger than her, and even if it wasn't restraining her, she'd still be alone with Ocelot; who was bigger, stronger, still armed, and bent on his 'entertainment.'
Which now seemed to be about satisfying the ugly worm he had pulled from his pants.
"I'll tell you right now, this is the easy way, but if doing this the quick and painless way doesn't appeal... Well, there's is a couple of new holes in you that might be more interesting than your cunt I suppose."
Meryl wasn’t sure how to process a word Ocelot had just said.
“What do you think little girl, the old fashioned way? Or should I get creative?"
Meryl’s eyes were wide, her body tense, she could feel the terror in her clenching crotch. The chilled sweat that was coming off her body was doing nothing to change the situation. Meryl looked away, the possibility she could die here was suddenly much more real. She didn’t want to die that way, pinned down against her will, with some old man sodomising her, but there was no real promise he wouldn't kill her the moment he got off either.
It wasn't much of a choice.
"This is as nice as I'm going to ask by the way, but... if you don't like it," Ocelot punctuated his comment by stabbing two fingers with absolute precision into the bullet wound in her shoulder despite the bandages hiding it.
Meryl screamed, unmuffled by the mouth guard it almost echoed through the re-purposed medical room. Catching herself, Meryl gasped for breath, trying to force herself calm against the agony wracking her, but her body didn't want to listen to anything her brain was saying. She still couldn't look at the old man.
"Well...?" Ocelot pressed his fingers deeper into the wound, "I'm still waiting. I won’t die of boredom or blue balls, but you might."
Meryl whimpered, her heart was pounding in her chest, she could barely hear the words the man was saying, let alone respond.
Ocelot eventually released the pressure on her injury, satisfied she understood the point. “I'll take that as a vote for the 'old fashioned way.'”
His gloved hand gently turned Meryl's face to look at him before twisting his fingers tightly into her hair, pulling her toward his dick.
Meryl's breathing was fast and shallow, her chest arched as she struggled to control her breathing, but considering the repercussions of not cooperating, Meryl’s mouth began to open.
Her mouth had barely opened before Ocelot forced his wrinkly old cock into her mouth, almost choking her on the thick flesh. Meryl tried to pull back, but Ocelot’s grip was too strong.The warm, moist skin sliding past her lips was an entirely foreign sensation, the bitter salty taste spread through her mouth. It was foul, it reminded her of sweat and piss, but she had to suppress the urge to vomit immediately after swallowing the thick, full taste of the old man. Her first instinct was to bite down as hard as she could, to inflict as much pain as she could, but she knew that would be a terrible idea
She couldn’t help but stare into his eyes as he looked down at her while holding her head in place. There was nothing there in how Ocelot looked at her, no anger, no joy, no lust, he was just looking, like she wasn't even there while he did this to her. She felt utterly disgusting, she felt she should be fighting, she should be doing something, but the thought of what was happening was too much to bear.
What the man who casually mentioned finding her wounds more sexually appealing than her body might do to her if he were to be genuinely angry at her instead.
Ocelot pulled hard against her head, ripping out a few strands of hair so he could push his cock deeper.
Meryl closed her eyes, tears welled up as she felt herself choke as she began to suck the invading cock. She could only whimper into the man’s flesh as he used her lips, her tongue, her throat, her nose, to pleasure himself. The bitter smell and taste of his arousal mixed with old smoke and gunpowder threatened to overwhelm her senses.
No amount of muffling could drown out the wet, smacking sounds of the man using her as a sex toy. Nor the obscene gurgling sounds as her throat was violated further.
“Fuck...” Ocelot exhaled as the girl struggled to breathe around his cock, “If you can’t handle that, you weren't going to handle option two.”
Meryl wanted to scream back, but she couldn't breathe. Her heart was pounding, if this was a reprieve from the other option she had been given...
Ocelot meanwhile, seemed intent on getting his decrepit dick as far down her throat as physically possible. Despite the poor angle for it and the few times her nose brushed against his pubic bone, he moved like he would get deeper in if only he tried hard enough.
Meryl felt her cheeks turning red as she fought more and more to contain the vomit threatening to rise. There was no guarantee he wouldn't let her drown in it. This did nothing for her instincts desperately wanting to push him away. Her lungs were in agony, very nearly overtaking the pain of her wounds, and yet there was still turmoil from the conflicting desire to stay alive, and the desire to be free from the man's disgusting touch.
Meryl tried to swallow around him, wanting to get it over with sooner. She had to breathe and she wasn’t sure if she was choking on his cock or the bile rising in her throat any more. Meryl kept trying to swallow around him, trying to keep him from choking her, but there was no way to stop the bile.
Abruptly Meryl lost the fight, her body violently arching as a hot rush of liquid forced it's way up and out of her stomach.
Her suddenly unhindered airway barely gave the vomit a chance to pass before trying to suck in a wheezing breath, pulling some of it into her lungs anyway, making her cough and splutter and wheeze. Her whole body writhed in the restraints as she simultaneously tried to catch her breath and clear her airway.
It wasn't until she felt Ocelot's vomit-soaked erection resting against her cheek that she was brought back to the reality. Her face was soaked with enough snot, tears and puke it didn't feel like it mattered all that much that he was adding to it.
Exhausted, Meryl choked out a feeble: "you done?"
"Unfortunately for you, no." Ocelot's tone was bland despite the nature of what he had been doing, the pink tint in his skin, and the roughness of his breathing.
"But I can see why you might think so."
Ocelot’s fingers traced over the red-stained bandages on her shoulder, "I'm thinking this might be a better place now."
Meryl let out a weak, defeated grunt as she stared up at the sick old fuck. Tears were freely running down her face as she tried to think of what to do. She could still taste his dick in her mouth, everything about this situation was absolutely revolting to her. She hadn't thought she could stand much more of choking on the disgusting thing but the alternative was so much worse.
Meryl's stomach clenched, there was a burning sensation under her skin, her head was spinning, but she still wanted to survive.
"Don't! Please, I'll try again!" It was pained, and desperate, but she forced the words out. It was fucking disgusting, but maybe he could be convinced.
Ocelot smiled at her, more bearing his teeth than anything with meaning behind it.
"You're a mess," that was an understatement, "but I suppose you did put in enough effort to earn some mercy." Ocelot pulled his hand away from the wound he insisted was enticing him and put the arm to use in pushing himself up off Meryl's chest to move down to her legs.
The mess on his dick dragged a snail's trail down her body as he eventually positioned himself between her legs. Kneeling, so he could use his hand to pull her panties down to her thighs.
Meryl had no more desire to be fucked there than she'd wanted her mouth fucked, but there was somehow still a wash of relief as she realised he wasn't about to attempt putting his dick in her wounds. No matter how disgusting he was she just wanted to be able to get this over with. She tried to keep her breathing calm, but her whole body was tense.
Ocelot's good arm wrapped under her hips.
Meryl braced herself as he lifted her hips for more access, only to notice half a second too late that his filthy geriatric cock was pressing against her asshole before the new pain hit. Meryl clenched her jaw, determined not to cry out this time, despite the unexpected, and far from smooth entry. With only mucus to ease the non-consensual penetration, it was a battle.
She wasn't inclined to relax and he wasn't interested in waiting.
It took a more than a few artless shoves, each feeling like he was trying to drive an icepick into her tail bone, before he was fully seated inside her.
He sighed, like it was some kind of bone deep relief to finally be buried to the hilt. He didn't start moving right away, he just held his body pressed against hers, his cock deep inside her.
It seemed almost like the sick fuck was giving her time to adjust this time, if she could just focus on that, not the pain that was shooting up her back... Meryl took shallow breaths, trying not to let herself get sick again. It was much harder to manage when he was stabbing at her guts in a way that made her entire body ache in protest.
She clenched her teeth to the point of pain as his cock pulled out of her asshole, but it was nothing compared to the sting of his unceremonious thrust back inside her.
With a grunt, Ocelot started moving, pasionlessly, mechanically thrusting into her ass. As he slid in and out, his pelvis smacked against her ass, the sound echoing across the dark room.
Meryl's body was shaking, she couldn't tell if it was because she was trying to hold herself together or she was having a panic attack, or just shaking with pain. Her breathing was ragged, her ribs ached, her shoulder stung, her stomach was rebelling again and her body felt like it was on fire. Meryl was crying again, she was in too much pain to be able to do anything about it, not like this, not with him. If she could just get the fucker to finish up. It didn't help that he was too rough to let her just lie here, even if she wanted to.
Meryl finally opened her eyes, she'd shut them when it started, trying not to think about what was happening, but it wasn't helping. She could see the sick old fuck's face, his eyes were closed, his expression contorted in what might have passed for pleasure, but made her skin crawl. He was grunting with each thrust, sweat dripping off his face onto her bruised skin.
Ocelot had already shown her this was far from the worst thing he could be doing, but it was humiliating. To be fucked like this, by this man easily old enough to be her father, if not grandfather. She could feel it inside her guts, feel him, and she didn't want to feel anything at all any more.
He was taking his time, and Meryl was trying to think about anything other than the sound of his hips smacking against her. The smell of his sweat and the bile clinging to her. The feeling of her stomach being prodded from the inside. Her jaw ached from clamping it shut to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape. It felt like it had been hours since she'd been brought into the room, but there was no way that much time had passed.
With a dull thud of flesh on flesh and a low moan that almost sounded like a cry of pain, Ocelot's cock plunged in one last time. Gripping Meryl tightly as he came, his pelvis grinding against her ass as each pulse of semen left him until finally he was starting to go soft.
Meryl groaned with disgust, feeling in intimate detail Ocelot's body shuddering against her and his cock going flaccid. She cringed as she felt him pull out, the smell of shit joining the cacophony of scents in the air.
And yet, when Ocelot finally stood up, off the platform, Meryl felt like she could breathe again.
It was over, even if he still meant to cause her pain, there was no chance of him reviving his dick any time soon. As little of a victory that could be considered given the circumstances.
She didn't expect to hear Ocelot radio the guards to clean her up and return her to her cell.
It was a pitiful thing to be grateful for. She didn't know if she could stand, but she was alive. That was the important thing right now.
She was sure she was covered in bruises, back and front, probably some burns too. She could still feel his cum leaking out of her asshole, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't think about that, she couldn't think about anything.
She'd survived. Maybe now she could try to plan her escape.