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trash mod ([personal profile] trash_mod) wrote in [community profile] biotrash2014-03-19 04:11 pm


Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires

- bioshock trash crew proverb




Spoilery comments to this post will be deleted, and their authors vanished in the night to volunteer in our city's fine Protector Program.

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day!

Welcome to the Bioshock kink meme.

You can find a semi-frequently-updated list of prompts, with links and an indication of whether they've been filled, here at the index.

it is a kink meme. people anonymously (or not) request fic and pictures; other people anonymously (or not) write that fic and draw those pictures. everyone masturbates, peace is achieved.

there are two ways to take part!

1) start a new comment thread with a pairing/ship, and a kink. there's a kink masterlist here if you find yourself strapped for ideas.

2) swoop into an existing comment thread, and fill the person's request with art or writing. if someone's already filled the request, go for it anyway -- the more the merrier! if you need somewhere to upload/host images, try imgur.

there are some beautiful gems on the old kink memes. if you want an example of how this whole thing works, or you're digging for gold, look no further: on Livejournal, on Dreamwidth.


Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
The tape ended and the ensuing static drilled into Mark’s ears as it rewound. He gaped, as he had to, at the many screens in front of him, the only light in the room. The flickering of the white noise was enough to drive a man mad.

And then, darkness. The cycle was broken, the televisions turned off. In the blackness, he heard a door open, saw a shadow thrown against the wall as someone walked into the room. They wheeled him through the doorway, down a blinding hallway, finally stopping inside yet another dark room.

The door shut and the footsteps clicked away from it, as Mark blinked into the blackness, trying to figure out where he was. A light flickered above him and he saw with a start that he was not alone.

The woman from the tapes was sitting in front of him with her arms crossed, reclining slightly in the chair. Her face was beautiful, like a film star, but her glasses and stern expression told of a great intellect. She watched him hungrily, as though she was a cat and he was the mouse that she was about to devour. She leaned forward, clasping her hands in her lap and watching him, a smile creeping across her face.

Mark gulped, trying to look around him. He had been immobilized for so long, he wasn’t sure he would be able to move even if he wasn’t strapped down. From the few glances he could steal around the room, he could see they were in some kind of operating room. A sterile, tiled, chamber with no light but the swinging lamp above him. He looked back at the woman in front of him. Her knee was nearly brushing against his shin.

Looking back at her, he saw a kind of mania twinkling on her lips. Suddenly, he remembered all of the times that her voice had been the cause of his screams. The times when his chair had glittered and sparked with electricity, while her calm monotone looped in his ears.

“Who are you?” he whispered in apprehension, even though he knew already. She smirked at him, taking her time with an answer. Walking slowly around his chair, she leaned it back, so he was staring up into the bright lamp above. She leaned over him, smiling, her perfume intoxicating, haloed by the light from above. As soft as a sigh, scent wrapping around him like a security blanket, she said, “I am Doctor Sofia Lamb.”

Sofia Lamb. A chill went up his spine as his memory clicked. Cindy. This was the woman who had taken Cindy. Her eyes observing his expression, Doctor Lamb tutted and patted his head condescendingly, saying, “There, there, there. Don’t be afraid, dear.” And, as easy as that, he wasn’t.

She walked languidly around him, unbuckling his harnesses until his was free. He sat up, rubbing his wrists, flexing his muscles to make sure that everything still worked. As she knelt to unbuckle his feet, he flexed his legs eagerly ready to stand up. A hand, snow white, appeared on his knee, and she looked up at him from behind her dark frames.

“Stay seated, would you, dear?” She finished her work, tracing a hand along his thigh as she rose and returned to his side. Reclining his chair even further, so that he was practically lying down, her cold hands examined his body, caressing the many scars and burns he had acquired over the past few days. Weeks? Mark suddenly found he couldn’t remember how long he had been down here and that concept terrified him. He started with a jump, suddenly repulsed by the hands that were winding under his shirt and over his heaving chest.

She pressed with those hands as she leaned over him and blew gently on his face, the cold air refreshing him, bringing him back to himself. He was safe. He was fine. Her hands grazed a nipple as she furthered her explorations, pulling his shirt open, ignoring the buttons which popped and bounced across the floor. Her eyes were so close to his burning skin that he almost thought she would plant a kiss on his ribs or abdomen, but her lips passed over him and her hands crept instead for his pants.

“Wait, stop,” he rasped, suddenly realising what was going on. He had forgotten about Cindy. How could he forget about Cindy? He struggled against her, his body stiff from disuse. She straightened, looking displeased, as he tried to sit up.

“Mr Meltzer, please lie down.”

“No! I’m going to save my daughter!”

“Stop, please. You’re going to hurt yourself, dear,” She said, and he froze. “You’re much too late to save Cindy. Now be a dear and lie down.”

Tears welling in his eyes, Mark lay back down against the cool metal of the chair. Sofia’s eyes wandered back to the man’s trousers and, grimacing at filthy and stained they were, she pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and tugged them around her small hands. Mark tried to stand up, tried to struggle, but his tired body ignored his every protest, gluing him into his seat. She finished removing his pants and then stood back, like an artist admiring her work.

She picked up a cannister and a hose, aiming it at him and releasing a stream of liquid all across his filthy body. Ethyl alcohol dripped from his starved form as the grime, blood, and urine washed away down a drain in the floor. The myriad of scratches and cuts that tattooed him screamed in unison and his eyes, shut too late, burned until he thought he would go mad.

She must have thought he was clean enough, because she turned off the hose, returning those cold hands to his face, which was contorting with the agony in his eyes. “Oh please,” she said, impatiently. “It doesn’t hurt, dear.”

And though it was difficult to open his eyes, though his vision was blurred, she was right. The pain he had felt was all in his head. Through the blur in his vision, he could see a morbid smile slink over her face. She took the cannister of rubbing alcohol and poured it directly over his eyes saying, “This feels nice, dear, don’t you think?”

His vision blurred again and he was unable to suppress a moan as pleasure shot down his spine. He knew this shouldn’t feel good, he knew this was wrong, but the sweet smell of her mixed with the clinical smell of the liquid and he felt himself growing hard. He heard the bottle bubble as it emptied above him. He closed his eyes, savoring the last few drops that tingled beneath his lids, before he opened them to the hazy world.

She had moved down, dragging one hand along his body as she neared his hips, dragging a fingernail along his abdomen, her blonde hair glinting gold in the white lamplight.

“This is nice, isn’t it, dear?” she cooed, as she dug deeply into him with the nail. A trail of blood followed the line she left, making him salivate in his eagerness. Her nail reached his thigh and she let it run around his now erect member, so close that the air next to him tickled and stung, but her skin still not making contact. His blood beat in his thighs, his lungs wouldn’t hold enough air, and he felt dizzy with anticipation.

“Please,” the sound escaped his lips in a tiny puff before he could stop it. She removed her hands instantly and folded her arms, smiling.

“Please what?” She asked him with a chuckle.

Mark glued his lips together, trying to remember why he was here, what he wanted. His face flushed with shame at his already dripping erection. He tried to remember why he didn’t want this. All he could think about, however, was how drunk he was in her smell and how much he wanted her against him, around him. He closed his eyes, trying to wish his arousal away. She grasped him fully with both hands, shocking a gasp out of him as his eyes flew wide, kneading at him that made his body spasm and bulge in a way he hadn’t known since… since before Cindy was born..

“Tell me you want this, dear. Tell me you like it.”

He wanted to resist, he tried not to admit how much he needed her, but his body would not obey. Cracked and bloody lips parted and the words practically said themselves. “I want it! Hng, I need it! Please don’t stop!”

She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and began pumping in earnest now, stroking the length of him until he thought he was going to burst. Every stroke, every pull from head to base sent a thrill of agony through him, taunting him with its pleasure. Just when he thought that she could do him no greater deed, he felt her warm mouth closing around him and let out a deep moan. He shuddered as she worked the hot wetness of her tongue up and down, swirling and massaging around him, pressing tightly into him as his eyes rolled back in his head. He pulsed and throbbed beneath her, sweat gathering at the base of his spine, as he neared his peak.

Suddenly, she pulled back from him, the ache in his groin ringing in his ears and he pleaded and begged her to return. Leaning forward and looking him right in the face, she placed one hand on his dripping cock, gripping it tightly and saying, “You’re a terrible father, Mark Meltzer.”

Tears of desperation pricked his eyes. “N-no I’m not,” he said, trying in part to convince himself.

“Of course you are, dear.”

He was. He knew it, he was. That’s why his wife left him, that’s why his daughter was taken… Her grip on him tightened and he moaned again, squirming into her hand, praying that she would finish the job.

“I want you to say it, dear.”

“I- no!”

“You’ve already admitted it to yourself, now I want you to admit it to me.”

Her hand massaged him again and he knew that he would do anything for this woman. Kill for her, die for her, anything.

“I’m a bad father,” he said, the words almost a relief to him. He repeated them as she returned her mouth to his firmness, sucking in air as he moaned it again and again. “I'm a bad father, I’m a bad ah-ah!”

With a start, he came. She pulled back just in time and he arched his back, milky white come spraying across his clean body. As he twitched and spurted beneath her, Sofia said quietly, “This hurts, dear” and walked away, closing the door to the sound of his moans turning to screams.

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Fucking fucking fuckity fuck me.

anon who requested

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)



(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
jesus CHRIST this is good oh my GOD

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) 2014-04-03 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)

that last line tho

Maaaaan :3