“No,” said Red, “please.” The words were hoarse, struggling up through her bruised throat. They stung her torn lips. “Please, no.”
Atlas just laughed.
“I don’t do what you say just ‘cause you ask me nicely, love,” he said. Then he grinned. There was blood in his teeth, and it wasn’t his.
“Now you, on the other hand…”
The breath stopped in her chest. She knew what was coming next. And she couldn’t stop it. She could only pray. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t…
“Get down on your knees, would you kindly?”
Her legs buckled under her. The rough wooden floor stung her knees. The impact shocked a sob out of her mouth.
“Please,” she said again.
She barely knew what she was asking for any more. Hadn’t she wanted to meet Atlas? Hadn’t she wanted to be a part of his rebellion? Hadn’t she wondered how he would act when they were alone, when it was just her and him, when he didn’t have to put on a brave face for the soldiers he was leading?
She had. She had. But she wished she’d known just how far that face could slip.
There was the slide and slam of a desk drawer. Red jumped, and realised there was now something in Atlas’s hand. Hard to see in the gloom, until the blade caught a dusty beam of light. A knife.
She was too afraid to even beg.
“Open your mouth, would you kindly?”
Red’s mouth opened, and she made a small, terrified noise in her throat. Her head was suddenly full of visions: he would cut out her tongue. He would cut out her teeth. He would put the knife down her throat and make her choke on the blade.
Atlas crouched down in front of her, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Don’t you fear, lass,” he said. Quiet. Soothing. He lifted his hand, and she flinched away, but he only took her chin tenderly between thumb and forefinger. “Worried I’ll harm that pretty face?”
She made another inarticulate noise of fear.
He shushed her gently. “No need for any apprehension, pet. It’s all right.”
Against all her better judgement, Red felt a little less afraid. He always seemed so trustworthy. His hand was so strong, like an anchor in the whirling nightmare that was however long she’d been here. Listening to his firm, reassuring voice, she could almost believe that he meant all of it well.
Then the blade of the knife glinted again.
“It’s okay,” he said again. “Number of spliced-up beauties I’ve got in my army, I’ll bet you won’t stand out at all.”
And he put the point of the knife against her cheek, and shoved.
The pain was splitting. Her entire face screamed, every nerve burning, hot and cold all at once as her warm blood spilled over the chilly metal of the blade. She felt the deep clunk of metal on her teeth. Blood ran backwards down her throat and she started to choke, coughing violently, jerking her head forwards and tearing up her face even worse.
Then the knife was gone, and a strong hand was slapping her back, but she could barely register them — her eyes were streaming — her ears were ringing with pain — her entire face was on fire.
“Would you kindly get down on the ground now?”
Red could barely tell what Atlas was saying, but her body knew. She lowered her hands to the floor, still coughing, crouching like an animal.
“Good girl,” she heard above her.
Atlas patted her head, stroked behind her ear.
“No need to cry, girlie,” he said. “You’re doing so well.”
Then he trod on Red’s face, pushing the toe of his boot through the wound in her cheek. It shoved her skin aside — she swore it was tearing the flesh even further. The dirty tip of it pressed against her tongue.
“Lick it,” he said, “darlin’.”
Red whimpered in pain. But it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until she did what he wanted.
Tongue still inside her mouth, she licked the invading boot, the taste of leather and blood thick and polluting. There was sour-tasting dirt, salty Rapture grime, and blood, always more blood. Always more blood. She kept licking, entirely focused on getting it clean. For Atlas. For her own life.
“Not bad,” said Atlas. There was laughter in his voice. Utterly cold laughter.
“Y’look like you’re enjoying it down there, you little whore. I didn’t even need to ask you kindly.”
Red closed her eyes, tears and snot diluting the blood on her face, but she didn’t dare stop licking. A stone came loose from his sole, stinging her tongue, but she still kept going.
“Would y’even dare to think about saying no to me?”
She couldn’t talk with his shoe in her mouth. But the thought of not answering scared her more than the harrowing pain in her cheek. She shook her head, as small a movement as she dared, choking down sobs.
A voice responded.
The wrong voice entirely.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
A gravelly drawl that made her heart stutter. As rough and overpowering in her ears as the boot was in her mouth.
Then the boot was withdrawn, and kicked her shoulder, rolling her onto her back. She opened her eyes, terrified for a second that she would see someone else there. But it was Atlas. Only Atlas.
She didn’t know if that was better or worse.
“I think you’ve learned a good lesson here today, sweetheart,” he said, his voice back to normal. Maybe it had never been wrong. Maybe she’d imagined it. Maybe she’d imagined everything. Her head was swimming too badly with pain to know what was happening.
“Now,” said Atlas, “take my hand.”
Obeying was terrifying.
Disobeying was worse.
She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She tried with all her strength to stay there.
“Good girl,” he said, and despite everything that had happened, he could still make her stomach jump with those two words. She was sick, she thought. He was sick. She was sicker. But she couldn’t stop listening to him.
“Would you kindly,” he said, “forget what transpired in here just now? Just the details, mind. You keep our lesson nice and clear in that ugly little head of yours.”
Red was holding Atlas’s hand, in his office. Her body hurt. It was so bad that even her soul hurt. She put a hand to her face, where the pain was worst, and felt teeth through her cheek, and screamed.
Then Atlas was holding her. Atlas was protecting her.
“It were Ryan’s men,” he said. “They got you, love. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.”
She grasped his shirt weakly, and gave way. She cried and cried and didn’t stop. Her throat was raw from sobbing. Her stomach twisted with guilt at getting blood and tears all over his clothes, but Atlas didn’t seem to mind. Atlas was generous. Atlas was understanding.
“Look at me, girlie,” he said.
It hurt just to think about moving, but — she couldn’t disobey. Just the thought put knots of dread in her stomach for reasons she couldn’t explain. She looked up at him, and with a thumb, he wiped away the wetness from underneath her eyes.
get your kink bingo sheets ready
Atlas just laughed.
“I don’t do what you say just ‘cause you ask me nicely, love,” he said. Then he grinned. There was blood in his teeth, and it wasn’t his.
“Now you, on the other hand…”
The breath stopped in her chest. She knew what was coming next. And she couldn’t stop it. She could only pray. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t…
“Get down on your knees, would you kindly?”
Her legs buckled under her. The rough wooden floor stung her knees. The impact shocked a sob out of her mouth.
“Please,” she said again.
She barely knew what she was asking for any more. Hadn’t she wanted to meet Atlas? Hadn’t she wanted to be a part of his rebellion? Hadn’t she wondered how he would act when they were alone, when it was just her and him, when he didn’t have to put on a brave face for the soldiers he was leading?
She had. She had. But she wished she’d known just how far that face could slip.
There was the slide and slam of a desk drawer. Red jumped, and realised there was now something in Atlas’s hand. Hard to see in the gloom, until the blade caught a dusty beam of light. A knife.
She was too afraid to even beg.
“Open your mouth, would you kindly?”
Red’s mouth opened, and she made a small, terrified noise in her throat. Her head was suddenly full of visions: he would cut out her tongue. He would cut out her teeth. He would put the knife down her throat and make her choke on the blade.
Atlas crouched down in front of her, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Don’t you fear, lass,” he said. Quiet. Soothing. He lifted his hand, and she flinched away, but he only took her chin tenderly between thumb and forefinger. “Worried I’ll harm that pretty face?”
She made another inarticulate noise of fear.
He shushed her gently. “No need for any apprehension, pet. It’s all right.”
Against all her better judgement, Red felt a little less afraid. He always seemed so trustworthy. His hand was so strong, like an anchor in the whirling nightmare that was however long she’d been here. Listening to his firm, reassuring voice, she could almost believe that he meant all of it well.
Then the blade of the knife glinted again.
“It’s okay,” he said again. “Number of spliced-up beauties I’ve got in my army, I’ll bet you won’t stand out at all.”
And he put the point of the knife against her cheek, and shoved.
The pain was splitting. Her entire face screamed, every nerve burning, hot and cold all at once as her warm blood spilled over the chilly metal of the blade. She felt the deep clunk of metal on her teeth. Blood ran backwards down her throat and she started to choke, coughing violently, jerking her head forwards and tearing up her face even worse.
Then the knife was gone, and a strong hand was slapping her back, but she could barely register them — her eyes were streaming — her ears were ringing with pain — her entire face was on fire.
“Would you kindly get down on the ground now?”
Red could barely tell what Atlas was saying, but her body knew. She lowered her hands to the floor, still coughing, crouching like an animal.
“Good girl,” she heard above her.
Atlas patted her head, stroked behind her ear.
“No need to cry, girlie,” he said. “You’re doing so well.”
Then he trod on Red’s face, pushing the toe of his boot through the wound in her cheek. It shoved her skin aside — she swore it was tearing the flesh even further. The dirty tip of it pressed against her tongue.
“Lick it,” he said, “darlin’.”
Red whimpered in pain. But it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until she did what he wanted.
Tongue still inside her mouth, she licked the invading boot, the taste of leather and blood thick and polluting. There was sour-tasting dirt, salty Rapture grime, and blood, always more blood. Always more blood. She kept licking, entirely focused on getting it clean. For Atlas. For her own life.
“Not bad,” said Atlas. There was laughter in his voice. Utterly cold laughter.
“Y’look like you’re enjoying it down there, you little whore. I didn’t even need to ask you kindly.”
Red closed her eyes, tears and snot diluting the blood on her face, but she didn’t dare stop licking. A stone came loose from his sole, stinging her tongue, but she still kept going.
“Would y’even dare to think about saying no to me?”
She couldn’t talk with his shoe in her mouth. But the thought of not answering scared her more than the harrowing pain in her cheek. She shook her head, as small a movement as she dared, choking down sobs.
A voice responded.
The wrong voice entirely.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
A gravelly drawl that made her heart stutter. As rough and overpowering in her ears as the boot was in her mouth.
Then the boot was withdrawn, and kicked her shoulder, rolling her onto her back. She opened her eyes, terrified for a second that she would see someone else there. But it was Atlas. Only Atlas.
She didn’t know if that was better or worse.
“I think you’ve learned a good lesson here today, sweetheart,” he said, his voice back to normal. Maybe it had never been wrong. Maybe she’d imagined it. Maybe she’d imagined everything. Her head was swimming too badly with pain to know what was happening.
“Now,” said Atlas, “take my hand.”
Obeying was terrifying.
Disobeying was worse.
She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She tried with all her strength to stay there.
“Good girl,” he said, and despite everything that had happened, he could still make her stomach jump with those two words. She was sick, she thought. He was sick. She was sicker. But she couldn’t stop listening to him.
“Would you kindly,” he said, “forget what transpired in here just now? Just the details, mind. You keep our lesson nice and clear in that ugly little head of yours.”
Red was holding Atlas’s hand, in his office. Her body hurt. It was so bad that even her soul hurt. She put a hand to her face, where the pain was worst, and felt teeth through her cheek, and screamed.
Then Atlas was holding her. Atlas was protecting her.
“It were Ryan’s men,” he said. “They got you, love. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.”
She grasped his shirt weakly, and gave way. She cried and cried and didn’t stop. Her throat was raw from sobbing. Her stomach twisted with guilt at getting blood and tears all over his clothes, but Atlas didn’t seem to mind. Atlas was generous. Atlas was understanding.
“Look at me, girlie,” he said.
It hurt just to think about moving, but — she couldn’t disobey. Just the thought put knots of dread in her stomach for reasons she couldn’t explain. She looked up at him, and with a thumb, he wiped away the wetness from underneath her eyes.
Atlas smiled down at her.
“I’ve got you now.”