Project: Ganymede (Resident Evil, ChrisxWesker) Part 3/?

[felicia_angel]

When Wesker had first heard of the idea that his subordinates had about Chris Redfield, he’d thought it’d been a joke. Chris was responsible for most of his setbacks, for an invaluable amount of research lost in his bumbling and his attempts to make Wesker ‘pay’ for the deaths that happened to the lesser men. Despite what Lenka, his right-hand man in the South African bases, might have tried to convince Wesker about gods and how Wesker could act, that they picked Chris of all ones made no sense until Wesker seriously considered the choice.

It had been his Alpha team who’d managed to go through the mansion with minimal casualties, though of course they’d also figured out his plans…well, some of his plans. It had been the STARS members under his command that had survived Raccoon City, along with the few other lucky ones who had barely managed to escape that city. It had been STARS members who formed the BSAA that was now the thorn in his side, and who would just as easily turn in their own financiers than deal with the same troublesome issues that Umbrella had once waded through.

It had also been Chris Redfield, his former Point man, who’d fought back against everything Wesker threw at him, and survived. Chris, who had come to find and save his beloved sister and ended up being the first - the only person - to ever hit him hard enough to knock off his glasses. Even when Wesker had been semi-serious about killing Chris, he’d managed to still fight and defeat him, or at least push his work back by more years with the defeat of Alexia and other important subjects. Even now, when Chris was obviously being trained to take down Wesker and not being cared for in any other way, his determination and fight had not only gotten him to Wesker’s doorstep and into his current predicament. Still, he fought the drug and had even fought Wesker’s men when his strength wasn’t at its peak - breaking fingers and biting cocks in an attempt to prove he wasn’t about to be dominated unless it was by the strongest, or perhaps the drug was reacting to Wesker’s unique virus - he had no idea. Chris’ anger and continued fealty to those too weak to survive the mansion and its testing ground was an annoyance, yes, but Wesker supposed he should have anticipated it.

Jill had come from Delta Force in the Army, Barry was a family man who showed his loyalty even when they were threatened, but Chris? Chris had fought every commanding officer, military or otherwise, who sought to get him into shape. Every order had to be given far more directly, and with every possibility that he’d disobey on principle or because he felt the reasoning was wrong. But until the reveal of Tyrant, the knowledge that Wesker worked for Umbrella, and all the rest, Chris followed Wesker’s orders perfectly. If he didn’t, he at least improvised depending on the situation, but he had overall done everything Wesker said, and hadn’t given him lip for it. A few more years in STARS, without the outbreak and issues from Umbrella’s stable of geniuses and back-stabbers, and Chris would not have rebelled quite so spectacularly, Wesker thinks. No, if he’d played it right, or if Enrico had been good enough to die instead of having to live long enough to mention a ‘mole’, than things might have been easier over the years, and Wesker would have far more data.

As they get into the underground train car, Wesker puts Chris, still fighting, down on a medical bed with restraints. It’s a small car - not much is supposed to be moved, but between Chris and the four BSAA members, Wesker has an idea that Chris will probably try to escape his clutches the moment the drug is out of his system, or more BSAA members will come looking for the one who could potentially defeat Wesker. The temptation to draw blood and see what type of antibodies are floating around in there - if the older forms of t-virus antibodies or even g-virus ones are still there - comes back briefly as Wesker moves quickly to restrain Chris’ hands too, the younger man cursing and shaking his head, apparently attempting to keep himself moving so his mind isn’t trapped again.

The drug had been given to some of the prisoners and locals they’d found and used as guinea pigs for their experiments, or to placate the insatiable appetites of the guards, and he’d only heard of those who go a little mad with the need for stimulation, not realizing when the drug wore off and the pain overcame their senses, making it seem like they needed to have that stimulation to continue to move or even see things in the world. Wesker wonders if there’s more to it than that, with what seems to be happening with Chris implying that the drug either was a variant - which would be unusual, as Wesker knew all of the programs being done under his watch - or that the Prototype virus, and Chris’ heightened immunity to every other virus thus-far created, had reacted in an unusual way to the drug. He’d speak to his second, Lenka, and see if there was any sort of possibility of this that the man hadn’t meticulously recorded in his notes somewhere.

Chris had fought whatever he viewed as the enemy, even if the BOW was the best of the bunch, either on his own or with one or two people as backup. This drug was one that had managed to keep him down and out for the time being, and would continue that way no matter what Chris tried. Even if he kept trying it, Wesker was more impressed by Chris’ inability to stay down, his determination to fight anything that came up against him was both annoying and fascinating. What he had liked more was that brief moment, when he’d first taken Chris with Lenka’s help, and Chris had simply begged to be let go.

Chris had gone right back to threats, to trying to deny his arousal at the act, or that he’d once more submitted to the one authority figure he was fine with submitting to…

Wesker can’t wait for that moment again. Chris had never been easy with his superiors, especially if he disagreed with something they said, or if they did something that he, personally, disliked. Wesker had been the only one that had managed to gain Chris’ admiration and total loyalty in all things before the Spenser Mansion. It was because of that, he suspects at least, that his ‘betrayal’ of STARS Bravo team, as well as leading Alpha team, was the one point that Chris always held against him. Even if Chris knew that Umbrella owned STARS, and that at one point they’d test them out on the monsters had the train now been taken, or the virus gotten out, it was still easier to blame the one he knew and viewed as a traitor.

The small train car would be cramped, but Wesker enjoys riding in style, and equally enjoys his time working on the files he’s gained, to look over the reports and muse on his next action. He wants to try to take Chris again, or to see what type of a rise he can get out of him, and he has the perfect place to put him for the meantime. In the space as well is a medical table, used mostly for securing specimens or anything else that Wesker wants to look at or move between bases. Some of the higher-value BOWs were well worth the trip, and more than a few were too unstable for combat purposes when the BSAA or Chris and his little bands came along to ruin his fun. So far, despite the lack of movement beyond some minor jostling to ensure Chris didn’t hit a wall or the door, Chris was beginning to fall back into his mind again, and Wesker wanted to see exactly how little one had to do in order to maintain even a modicum of awareness. Lenka might know, but Wesker liked the idea of seeing exactly how far he could push Chris until he broke a little, even if it was just through arousing touches.

The medical table is not cold like the ones in a hospital would be - some of the BOWs and bodies he works with are far too heat-sensitive for that, and some require specialized covers in order to keep their light sensitivity down as well. He easily sits Chris down, noticing that he seems to be back into his mind somewhere, lost without the abuse or sexual touches that Wesker had denied him while getting the train set up and moving to the control panel of the bed. It had restraints that could easily be adjusted, and while there had been some changes to Chris’ bulk - courtesy of the BSAA training and some ‘safe’ enhanced drugs, no doubt - Wesker found himself easily able to conform it to what he required. He moved back to where Chris sat, taking the time to admire the bruises along Chris’ body, left from his fight against the guards, as well as the more prominent ones along his jawline, the ones that Wesker had put there.

He’d have to train Chris a bit more, Wesker thinks as he frowns. While the slight green discoloration is fine, the purples are not, and as much as Wesker wants to continue to play with Chris, he also has the sinking suspicion that the guards were a little too rough in their handling of Chris as their plaything. Luckily the medical table came with some state-of-the-art equipment, some that would easily help to heal Chris and give Wesker a way to examine him non-evasively first. Chris’ discomfort, his ability to fight back yet still give in to Wesker alone, was enough reason for Wesker to want to keep Chris around for a little longer.

Chris lets out a rather annoyed moan as he’s moved, as if he is somewhat aware of who is moving him, though not where. The restraints - set mostly along his upper arm, wrist, and ankles, do little but keep him still if he decides to move around during the inspection. The medical table gives out a quiet hum as it scans Chris quickly, the calibration for a Human far easier to look over than anything for some of the BOWs he’d bred, and he’s happy to see that the bruising is mostly just that - bruises, not anything to further complicate things. Wesker will have to draw blood before the time period is up, if only to see what effect the antibodies have on the drug, let alone what it’s had on Chris. For now, though, he’ll simply have to play a bit with Chris.

The thought, a strange one to Wesker, get him to frown before he simply slaps Chris, seeing what sort of reaction that gets from the other man, as well as himself. It’s odd, but he finds no pleasure in the action, nor in Chris’ pained groan, his eyes regaining some focus before they once more gaze over. Wesker feels like the whole experiment was pointless - like some of Umbrella’s choices, or other experiments that ended up making retrieval of data simply harder than it already was. There was no reason to discipline Chris in that way, at least not yet, and the experiment itself does nothing for either of them.

He waits as the green herb is applied, the weed-like grass having started to pop up in more and more places as Umbrella’s operations shut down and the chaos that began because of it. The mechanical work doesn’t seem to wake Chris up, making Wesker smirk a little as he reaches and begins to slightly rub along Chris’ bandaged abs, stopping only when the train’s controls rang, demanding his attention. He would have to work on Chris’ response and what else he could gleam from the earlier reports, as well as the medical readouts, later. Wesker needed to speak to Lenka before the man went to try and claim one of the four BSAA men, or to oversee the removal of their more sensitive equipment for when more BSAA members came to find their missing comrades. It was annoying - those four could easily be used for some of the experiments he was getting from the other companies who needed his expertise - but having Chris was, by far, his best catch for the whole of the experiments. After all, he had as much resistance to many of the viruses as the other members of STARS that survived the mansion and Raccoon City, but at least with Chris, he could have some fun.

Wesker recalls that Tricell had sent them a gift, as a way to show their willingness to work with the Uroboros and to help Wesker prove his ability. Excella Gionne believes herself worthy of his attention and time, and while her company is a good one, with enough resources for Wesker to use for his needs, her obsession with him is annoying, despite its usefulness.

“We’ll have to see how this works then,” he mutters to himself, looking back at Chris with a smile.

=

Chris can’t move, and while before, the entrapment meant that he wasn’t being raped or groped or overall harmed, now the lack of stimulation worried Chris. He was with Wesker on some sort of private train-car, and beyond having a feeling that he was lying down and strapped into something, Chris can’t figure out where he is, how long he’s been like this, or what Wesker is doing. At least when he was being violated, he could keep his mind active, but now he was starting to wish for Wesker to do…something.

Chris did his best to squash that thought, to bury it as far away as he could. Wesker had said the drug he used was going to keep him like this for eight hours, and so far, Chris had no idea how long it has been between his capture and the failed rescue attempt. He can guess - given how far away the nearest base was, not to mention the commander’s continued watchfulness over Chris for all things as Wesker’s bases were found and destroyed, as well as how long it’d taken him to get to the base he’d been captured at, it had probably been about three or four hours.

Ok, so I just have to face four, five more hours of this. I can do this. I have to do this.

Chris can do little but try to keep himself focused, do his best to focus despite there being nothing for him. All he can do is try to focus on…something, anything, but without that - with only the barest hint of stimulation from something cold touching him, and Chris felt like he spent far too long trying to figure out if it was Wesker or someone else. He doubts that Wesker will allow someone else to manhandle Chris enough to get him awake, and he finds himself caught up in his own thoughts, his own memories and anger at his idiocy.

He’d gone in without backup, what the hell was he thinking? Now he was at Wesker’s mercy, without any way to escape until the four hours was up, and suddenly, his brain went back to something he’d read, something about sensory deprivation creating hallucinations and other negative side effects. That it made people more susceptible to being brainwashed…

No! Don’t focus on that, focus on escape, you idiot!

What escape? He wasn’t able to move, and he knows Wesker well enough to guess he’ll plan for when Chris is back to himself, back to his full facilities.

Wesker is a fucking egotistical maniac who thinks you’re just some tool! He only thinks of you as a guinea pig, as a means to an end! He hates you for messing up his precious data and the monsters he creates. You really think he won’t mess up? He won’t just think that he has you cowed and submissive before he leaves you an opening?

That was the problem - Chris had to hope that his luck would hold out and Wesker was sloppy. He also has to hope that wherever Wesker was taking him, it was in the same base, not a new one. If it was, Chris would have to hope he could escape and find his way back.

Then what?

The cold feeling touched him again, and Chris tried to focus on that, to figure out what it was. Cold, but not like Wesker’s inhuman skin when he’d been holding him, raping him, forcing…

THINK!

The cold feeling is metal, something applying what feels like the herb they’d found all the way back in the Arkay mountains. The coldness isn’t everywhere, though, but the hard metal is, and the touch and movement, along with what felt like small pinches along his skin, is enough to get him to focus enough to look around.

He was tied to a medical bed, the pinching a small blood-draw that gets him to shudder in fear. His arms and legs were tied down, and the drug made it hard to really focus for long as Chris did his best to focus on the brief, cold touches from the machine working on healing him and taking some sort of reading. He sees Wesker looking over some sort of controls - he can’t focus enough to see more, and he briefly hears Wesker’s sinister laugh and the odd tone he spoke in, though Chris’ focus was not good enough for him to understand what he was saying. The feeling of coldness disappears, even as his ability to focus does, and Chris once more curses himself as he tries to figure out something else. The lack of stimulation is beginning to make him worried, the sudden need for any sort of touch or movement on his body getting Chris to recoil from his own mind in disgust. He could hold out against Wesker and his drug. He could fight this and beat it. There was no reason for him to give in for something so stupid as this, and he certainly wasn’t about to give Wesker the satisfaction of hearing him beg again.

Never again. I’m not going to do it again, no way.

The lack of awareness this time is worse, if only because he now knows a bit more of his situation now. The possibility that Wesker could use the table he was on to do a lot to Chris, though he doubts that’s what Wesker is planning on doing at the moment. He wants data, and the actual taking people apart doesn’t usually happen until after that data had a baseline to go against. He can’t think that Wesker won’t do something else to Chris, test out that drug of his a bit more before he goes into something worse for Chris. That means that Chris has to focus, has to be ready to escape the moment he sees an out. If he doesn’t get away before whatever plan Wesker has for him goes through, he’ll possibly just end up as some sort of monster - a monster that others who have been trained by Chris, or that one of the old partners will have to put down.

The next thing Chris feels is something odd, cold but not like Wesker’s skin. It’s not like any sort of skin actually - it feels more like some sort of solid something, with bits of rubber along it or something else that Chris has no way of describing. The things, like fingers, move along his skin lightly in an undulating movement that reminds Chris of a snake’s movement, but more like…liquid being swallowed or something strange like that. He mutters when something briefly touches his nipples, slowly seeming to trace along it before what feels like another one comes up, pinching and twisting slightly as others begin to move along his body. Another, strange sensation, like a lube-filled fleshlight, moves along his flaccid penis. He pants at the weird sensation as his mind begins to return, hearing Wesker’s voice again, though Chris can’t tell what he’s saying. His focus is on and off, despite the continued strange movement and touches.

Chris’ focus sharpens as something touches and starts to move around his neck, wrapping around it slowly as he sees what looks like some sort of dark, disgusting lattice work above him, sickly yellow pustules of what looks like liquid or something else in them. One is down, near his chin, and Chris’ mind finally catches up with what he’s seeing as his jaw clenches shut, stopping the questing tentacle from moving into mouth, the others finally allowing him to see the thing that was touching him, the thing down near his penis making him limp again as he sees that it is like a fleshlight, but the same sickly yellow as the round things above him, the lube-liquid thing almost tingling in a way that should feel good, that his body was fighting with his mind. He couldn’t let something like that make him hard! He wasn’t about to let himself get turned on by something like that!

“I’m glad to see your with us,” Wesker’s voice gets Chris to look over, glaring at the man as the tentacle near his mouth keeps pushing to try to get in, tracing along his lips and pushing briefly against his gritted teeth. “I’m sure you know that a few others want my expertise on their creations, and I’ve gotten one particularly enthusiastic lady trying to get my attention, and so she sent some interesting specimens for me to examine.” The tentacle around Chris neck tightens briefly, as if trying to cut off his air and get him to open his mouth. Chris does his best to try to remain calm, even as he sees Wesker stalking around the table, watching with some fascination, before finally glancing back over at Chris’ cock, which barely twitched as more of the mass moved down from the metal frame it was on, some trying to rub along his thighs and legs, others up and caressing his hips.

The tentacle choking him didn’t let up, Chris beginning to see black around the edges of his vision before a new sensation gets his mouth to part only briefly, enough for the tentacle to push in. Chris tries to bite down, disgust washing over him at the feel of it and the way it moves about with his mouth, exploring and seeming to trace along his tongue. He struggles weakly, the medical bed’s restraints keeping him still as the thing keeps up, attempting to get further in before slowly backing out…like the sensation he’s feeling around his cock.

Chris’ eyes dart down, seeing Wesker’s gloved hand slowly pull lightly on his penis, the fleshlight-thing moving and spilling a bit more of the pus-yellow liquid on him as Wesker uses that for lube, apparently not caring about the stains on his gloves, and Chris’ body…reacts.

Stop! Stop, no, not with him!

His body isn’t listening like it did before, his cock growing hard quickly under Wesker’s hands as he watches, fascinated, before smirking over at Chris, the same way he used to when they came across or heard some interesting or incriminating evidence on accident.

Back when Wesker was his superior officer, his captain, the one-

Stop! He’s not that anymore! He was never that! He was always Umbrella’s puppet and now your body is just acting like that because he feels and looks human when he isn’t! Get a grip! FIGHT!

“Perhaps you enjoy my touch more than that of this experiment’s?” Wesker asks, continuing his slow and almost sensual movement along Chris’ cock, different than the time he’d jacked Chris off while that other guard had taken him. Chris moans around the tentacle that’s beginning to mimic Wesker’s motion, pushing in when Wesker moves his hand down, and pulling out as it goes up. Chris’ teeth can’t even penetrate the weird flesh that the thing has, and the movement isn’t as solid and sure as Wesker’s, instead shifting like something being funneled or a snake moving. The tentacles teasing his nipples seem to favor pulling or sucking, and Chris sees one briefly turn out like a sucker before it latches onto his nipple, sucking hard as Chris tries to let out a yell but the tentacle in his mouth smothers it, getting Wesker to chuckle.

“You disliked it so much before you couldn’t even get hard, now you’re suddenly interested,” Wesker says, getting Chris to try to shake his head, finding the hold of both the table and the monstrous appendages keeping him from even being able to vehemently deny Wesker’s claims, seeing the blond man move to direct the fleshlight appendage down upon Chris.

Chris lets out a yell as it swallows him, the suction from it the same rolling feel as the one in his mouth, barley moving out from him but still shifting, as if it was getting ready to start pulsing liquid down Chris’ throat. Chris did his best to ignore the idea, to try to get his body to listen to him, to stop the reactions and betrayal to Wesker and this thing, but the whole movement and feel, as unnatural as it was, still managed to get to all of his erogenous zones, and his stiff cock didn’t help as his body began to simply try to get off, to release the tension in him.

No, not into this thing, not like this! No no no!

Chris moaned in denial as Wesker watches, humming in what sounds like approval as Chris struggles weakly, mentally fighting as his body instead moves to try and get more pleasure from the unnatural thing moving above him, sucking him off as it pulses in his mouth, Chris shivering as the pleasure builds in him, his mind fighting back and trying to stop his body’s betrayal.

All that happens is he pushes up against the thing sucking down his cock, his moans muffled as the suckers and twisting tentacles pull at his nipples until the pleasure has turned painful, the one around his neck briefly tightening when Chris tries to once more bite down on it, failing to get it to move or stop it’s ungluing in time with the fleshlight’s movements.

The pressure built in his lower abdomen, signaling he was getting closer to release, and Chris could only shake his head weakly as he got closer to cumming. One of the tentacles around his thigh moved further up and around, briefly brushing against his balls and getting Chris’ hips to jerk up before it began to move further down. Chris lets out a cry of denial, his body tensing as it traces the entrance of his ass, teasing as the tentacle in his throat pushes deeper briefly. Chris chokes on the intrusion, body shuddering from the lack of oxygen and the continued over-stimulation before the thing pauses, as if it’s discovered something. The tentacle still far enough in to get Chris’ gag reflex to continue, coughing and gagging as his vision begins to go dark, the one down his throat moving further in while also squeezing tighter, the others on his body beginning to pull at him in a way that felt like they were trying to tear into him. Chris felt some of them being pulled quickly, violently, off of him as he tries to breathe, the feeling of the warm, wet thing around his cock disappearing before then the one around his neck being pried off and pulled out of his throat and mouth, getting Chris to cough and gasp as he turns away, nearly throwing up from the push and the smell of rot and decay. He sees the metal frame above him devoid of the weird monster that had been violating him. Chris sees Wesker nearby, holding the disintegrating mass as Chris did his best to try to regain control over his body again, to rally himself to fight. Wesker seems disgusted with the thing, a look Chris knew from the times Wesker had tossed out more than a few people who’d tried to advance to the Alpha team, or when Wesker’s pet projects ended up dead after what felt like a one-sided fight.

Wesker shakes his gloved hand clean of the rotting monster, pulling off his gloves to reveal his pale skin as he tossed them on the carcass, moving slowly back over as Chris struggles again, fighting waves of nausea and trying to swallow down the buildup of bile in his throat. Without the continued, near-painful and pleasure-filled stimulation, his mind and body are starting to get back into sync again, even though his cock is still throbbing for release and painfully hard. Chris glares weakly at him as he tries to get in more oxygen, seeing Wesker tilt his head and look over him, his head shifting only a little, to show his shift of focus. Chris heaves as he does his best to catch his breath, his throat hurting from both the final invasive push in, as well as the pressure that had choked him to nearly losing consciousness. He briefly sees something beeping to one side, and tries to move again, pulling weakly at the restraints and feeling pain spark at his wrists. A cold hand on one gets him to look up and see Wesker’s dark glasses watching him, his face unreadable as Chris does his best to fight back, weak as he feels.

“Hmmm,” is all Wesker says, looking at Chris for a long moment before glancing back up at Chris as he shakes his head weakly, as if trying to deny or fight whatever Wesker was going to do, regardless of good or bad intentions. Chris doesn’t want anything touching him, doesn’t want anything near him. He’ll take the darkness and inability to move then the shame and singing feeling of pain and pleasure. Wesker says nothing as he moves up, typing something into a computer to one side before reaching up to move the metal frame away. Chris pulls weakly at the bonds again, trying to move away and escape. He doesn’t care how far he gets, even if it’s only a few inches, but he has to escape.

“You’re being quiet again, Chris,” Wesker says lazily, as if seeing Chris being violated and nearly killed by a creation of his was uninteresting, “I’m not too surprised, though I must admit that was a rather strange reaction of it.” He continues to type and hums briefly as Chris moves his mouth, trying to curse at Wesker but only a croaking sound coming out, pain making Chris close his eyes and try to breathe in through his nose. Wesker watches him carefully, glancing back down at the computer readout and then back down at Chris wrists. Chris struggles to figure out what the hell Wesker is up to, fear of what the thing might have done to him making Chris struggle and shiver, weak still from the lack of oxygen as well as from the effects of the drug. He keeps waiting for the drug’s effects to come back, but instead he only feels that his skin is too sensitive, his nipples painfully hard, and his cock desperate for release but with nothing to give that to him.

Wesker continues to work, the bed he’s on seeming to hum briefly before it simply remains solid, not do anything that Chris is worried about. Wesker taps his finger against the side before moving away, picking up a tablet as Chris pants, groaning and struggling against the bonds as he tries to ignore his body’s conflicting signals, the need for release and the pain from some of his throat and chest making it hard to focus. He glances around and tries to find something to focus on, something so his mind isn’t on the feeling and what created it, Wesker’s part in it, or anything else that’s been happening. He only has a few hours left, and he has to fight this.

Chris’ throat hurts, and despite his attempt to focus on anything else - Wesker doing something that he can’t quite see, the area he’s in, anything else - his body is still too sensitive, and his cock is painfully hard, causing him to jerk his hips in an attempt at some sort of release, shame filling him each time. The painful need and the sensitivity only serve to remind him that he’s in that state because of a creature that Wesker put over him, that it had been when Wesker jerked him off that he’d become hard, and then-then -

His wrists, arms, and legs hurt, rubbed raw from Chris’ attempts to get free, and he lets out a groan of pain and frustration that’s far less a groan and more a sort of dying sound from his abused throat. He hears a drawer close before Wesker slowly walks back over, holding something down and away from Chris. The younger man glares at his former superior officer, still trying to get out of whatever feeling the thing had left in him.

“Let’s deal with your…inconvenience,” Wesker said, setting something further down the table, near Chris’ feet where he couldn’t quite see what it was, even when he tried to sit up, his body protesting the movement and only seeming to reawaken the pain it was feeling. Wesker moves to slowly rub his fingers around the head of Chris’ cock, getting him to let out a pained groan, his hips starting to jerk, hoping for sensation that can send him over, but the pressure not enough. He feels a push on the bottom of his shaft, getting Chris to look down and see Wesker putting something, like a string, and tying it to where the pressure built, but couldn’t be released.

“I would hate to simply let you off the hook so easy, Chris,” Wesker says, smirking as he reaches to get something else that Chris can’t see, though the sound of a cap opening gets Chris to panic, pulling again on his restraints in the vain hope of escaping them. Wesker chuckles as he presses something against Chris’ ass, the younger man shaking his head even as his body tenses at the intrusion, pain and pleasure rolling through him as Wesker firmly pushes the strange thing into him. It feels weird, almost egg-like, and that only serves to freak out Chris more, recalling some of the monsters he’d seen and the information of where they’d come from. The movement jostles the thing a little, but the restraints mostly keep him steady, and the moment it briefly brushes against Chris’ prostate, Chris lets out a hoarse cry, his cock jerking painfully but no release coming for him.

“There it is,” Wesker mutters, his fingers coming out as he smirks at Chris, holding a remote attached to a long, thin cord. “Now, let’s see about that training. We’ll start low for now.”

He clicks it on, the sound of something buzzing audible, right as the pleasure hits him in waves. Chris screams, his whole body jerking as it tries to escape the overstimulation, the huge amount of pleasure that’s now turned painful as his release builds but can’t find a place to go. He shakes his head as his body jerks, trying to both get away and stay near the source as it briefly diminishes before starting up again, pulling out another hoarse cry from Chris, his body bowing upwards briefly before falling back down, jerking and spasming as he shook his head, trying hard to catch his breath again as the pleasure continued to build, the painful reminder that he needed to cum but couldn’t making his mind seem to fracture between wanting to escape, and wanting to do whatever it took to get that release.

“You seem to enjoy that,” Wesker’s voice seems too close, and Chris shakes his head, trying to deny it even as he groans in need. Another wave of pleasure and pain only serves to make him struggle more, panting as he hears Wesker say, “All you need to do is ask, and I’ll let you cum.”

Chris shakes his head again, as much as he wants to ask. What’s the harm in asking?

No, I’m not going to beg for something from him! I’m not going to give him that inch!

“So proud, even when so low, controlled only by base desires.” The brief touch on his cock, stroking lightly, makes Chris let out sounds he doesn’t want to admit to, the pain-pleasure sweeping over him right before another wave of pleasure shoots through him, getting him to struggle and fight against the restraints again before he collapses, panting from the excursion and the building fatigue. “Say ‘please’ and I’ll let you find your release, Chris.”

Chris whimpers at that, part of him want to do that, to please the one man he’d trusted with a command, to have him say what he needs so he can find relief. The rest of him rebels against that thought, against giving in to Wesker in anything, but both are stopped by another wave of pleasure that has him letting out another hoarse cry. Wesker’s fingers stroke again, and the request is repeated verbatim at him, Chris trying to shake his head to deny it but conflicted, unable to think beyond the hate he feels to Wesker and the deeply ingrained, near-forgotten wish to please the man.

He vaguely sees Wesker lean closer to him, and Chris’ hate wins when he sees the red eye flash behind the dark shade, the reminder of all that had happened, that this isn’t the one he wanted to please. His mouth is dry, but Chris manages enough saliva to spit at the man, who only smirks at the defiance before squeezing a bit at the base of Chris’ cock, getting the other man to let out a cry of pain and frustration when it’s released, Wesker chuckling before saying, “Since you’re so determined to defy me, let me show you what happens then.” Chris isn’t prepared when Wesker’s lips move down to his nipples, sucking at them painfully before catching one in his teeth, pulling hard as his hand puts the vibrator’s controls down and pulls the cord at the base of Chris’s cock. The pain, right before his abused nipple is released and Wesker stands, causes Chris to come, but the pain associated with it only serves to deny him full release. The cum splats him hit on his chest, Wesker humming his approval as Chris lets out a raspy, panting, frustrated growl as Wesker once more runs a hand through his hair. Chris flinches from it, but with everything else, he’s too weak to really fight against it.

“Let’s see if you learn anything from this experience. Now…” Wesker leans down, turning Chris’ head so he can look at him, “I expect you to hold out until you either beg me to let you cum, or I let you.”

Chris barely managed to spit again, and Wesker only chuckled. “Let’s see how long this will take, then. We have time.”

The vibrator went on, higher this time, and Chris screamed again.

=

Without the Uroboros to stimulate him, but with his body still apparently in the same state as before he’d shot his load, Wesker finds that Chris is still the same stubborn man he’d so relished in having at his side, in gaining his trust and loyalty. He’s still stubborn in the face of the pleasure and pain he’s being given, as Wesker works to keep him on the edge as long as he can, serves only to fascinate and arouse Wesker. Chris has little control of his body now, and it’s obvious he’s near breaking from the combined effects of the drug, his rapes, and Wesker’s attention.

Chris doesn’t spit at him this time either, but he does shake his head, and his voice is still quieter, scratchier, than before. The medical bed’s scan said that the attack by the Uroboros prototype had resulted in a slightly damaged larynx and more bruising, this time to his chest and thighs from where the experiment had tightened around him. Chris’ attempts to escape had also left bruising and rubbed his skin raw around his wrists and the other areas currently tied down. Wesker debates, as he slowly toys with the vibrator again, getting Chris’ body to jerk and struggle as his cock, red and painful looking, bobs against his stomach. The cum from before has dried on Chris’ stomach and chest, and some small clamps now painfully hold onto Chris’ nipples, keeping them a cheerful red color even as they move a bit, causing more pain with the shifting and unwanted movement.

Seeing Chris so willing to endure, despite the easy way out offered to him, makes his curiosity at Lenka’s plan come back. There is probably something about the drug and his Prototype-enhanced fluids that Lenka feels should be explored, and it would also explain that whole talk about old gods and their consorts. It’s something he should look up - Spencer’s training never involved any sort of religious aspects, a fact that often caused issues in his STARS days, when some religious fanatics were attempting to call down divine judgment upon them, or when other scientists named their creations after words associated with what Wesker learned was the Greco-Roman pantheon and mythos. Spencer’s attitude, at least to Wesker, was always fully stuck in the Christian world, and it always confused him. Why seek to create the same world as the old one, why proclaim yourself a God based on the rules of the old world you sought to destroy? Well, he’d never get the answers out of Spencer unless he went back to him, and Wesker isn’t in the mood for it.

Chris lets out another moan of frustration and pain as he struggles against the restraints, the pleasure, and his own stubbornness keeping him from saying a simple word and gaining the release he needs. Wesker considers allowing him some release, if only because he’s struggling so hard to keep himself together, not realizing the point was to break.

He’s been one to only bow as needed, but I’ve yet to see him break.

“You’re being too stubborn, Chris,” Wesker tells him as he slows the vibrator down, watching Chris’ chest heave as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes still showing the pain, pleasure, and anger that Wesker has started to expect from him. It makes him look lovely, and Wesker wonders how much lovelier he’ll look when he finally breaks, or appears to break. “One word, and all the pain will go away.”

Chris shakes his head weakly, still protesting and holding out despite his situation. Wesker chuckles, briefly teasing one of the clamps on his nipples as Chris groans, his whole body arching briefly as his voice, hoarse from the pain given to him from the Uroboros, tries to make out some sort of insult to Wesker.

“Well, you’ve given me enough data for what I need,” Wesker replies, seeing the brief, silent warning signal on the medical bench. Much more of this, and Chris’ physical health could be compromised, or at least he’d have to tend to him more than Wesker wanted. He had a few ideas now, and Lenka had given him a fascinating link to something involving multiple, interesting ways to break Chris, or at least make him bow. However, Chris is getting near the edge that Wesker feels he can go without being completely broken, and as much as Wesker wants him to break, he doesn’t need him a mess to build back up. That would take too long, and Wesker only wanted to bring out the man that Chris should have become, rather than build up a new man altogether.

“You keep holding out like that, and you’re not going to like it,” Wesker says, continuing to play with the clamps and considering if he should also see how far Chris can shoot his wad this time. “I might let you go, but you’ll feel no pleasure from it. Is that really what you want?”

Chris doesn’t answer, panting as he tries to escape his bonds again and get away from Wesker, causing the older man to chuckle before he pulled on the clamp, getting Chris to jerk away before he pushes the vibrator on again, watching Chris jerk and moan. He considers that probably, the best end for Chris’ torment is for Wesker to simply see how long over-stimulation will work on the drug, but also he’s simply finished watching Chris fight like this. The resources are too limited, and Wesker wants more.

“Well, let’s see how well you react again,” Wesker says as he turns the vibrator up a notch, moving to take off the improvised cock-ring right as he pulls both clamps off of Chris’ nipples. The scream is loud, ear-piercing, and only briefly stopped as his cum shoot upward, coating his chest and torso once more. Wesker smirks at that - still the same range, he’ll have to run a few new tests on that later - before he sees that Chris eyes are closed, his body tense but obviously only from the continue stopping of complete pleasure it needs, and he experimentally runs a hand through Chris’ hair, not saying anything or speaking. He watches and the younger man jerks under him, head moving like a cat’s to briefly keep with the sensation before he seems to realize who is doing it, causing him to try to move away.

Interesting…and worth looking into, when I have the chance.
Wesker leaves without another word, taking a seat and sending as polite a document as he can back to Excella, wanting to find out more about the now-dead prototype experiment, and another to Lenka, wanting to know what, exactly, he felt should be looked for when that drug combined with a Prototype-carrier. If anything, it would be an interesting scientific discovery, and may even give him someone to play with..