POSSESSION || MATURE CONENT 🔞 || FINNEY BLAKE X THE GRABBER

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Cw: vomit, force feeding

Finney didn't move to open the food, feeling unwell just looking at it. On a normal day it would have been seen as the most appetising thing in the world, but now it didn't. He wasn't at home making a sandwich for lunch, he wasn't at school eating the crisp bread and ham for lunch either. It wasn't the same.

"I... I want to go home," he spoke timidly, fingers fidgeting with each other nervously as he said so.

"But Finney, this is your home now. When you get more comfortable I can take you upstairs. For now, just eat your food here, okay?"

"I'm not- I'm not hungry."

"I never asked that, I said to eat the food I've given you," Albert ordered, picking the box of crisp bread up and opening it himself. He reached into the box, pulling out a plastic bag containing multiple pieces of the snack. Then, he started opening it.

"But you did ask," Finney pointed out, furrowing his eyebrows as he clearly remembered the other stating the question not long ago.

"No, I didn't, don't be silly," the elder wrote off, taking two pieces of crisp bread before opening the packet of cold ham. "Now eat before I shove this down your throat for you."

He finished the sandwich, holding it out for Finney to take. The younger went to grab it with his hands, moving them as one due to their restriction, but Finney pulled the food away before he could even touch it. When the older boy shook his head, Finney tilted his head a little in puzzlement. Didn't Albert just tell him to eat it?

"No using your hands. Just your mouth."

When he held the sandwich back out towards Finney, the brunette wanted to cry. Eating out of the palm of someone else's hand was humiliating, especially when that other person was sitting taller than you and looking down at you like you were nothing more than a dog. It felt animalistic to eat from the hand of someone else, as if he were some caged mouse that needed providing for.

Finney lifted his chin and leant forward, taking a bite from the ham sandwich despite having no rumble in his stomach and no wish to devour food. He finished chewing and swallowing the mouthful, realising Finney was now resting against the back of the chair, hand further away from where the captee sat. The boy on the floor reluctantly shuffled toward the kidnapper, taking another bite of the sandwich. Whilst he chewed, he watched as Albert lifted his hand up higher, looking back at Finney with expectancy.

When the younger went to take his third bite, he had to kneel to reach the food, averting his eyes away from the man, not wanting him to notice how embarrassed he felt right now. It was shameful really; first Finney being forced to eat from his captor's hand, now being forced to move to be able to eat the food. The poor boy just wanted to curl into a ball and become ignorant to the circumstances he was in. But no, here he was, being humiliated in the spotlight of a recording camera as another person smirked at his helplessness.

For the next bite, Albert positioned the half-eaten sandwich on his lap, spreading his legs so Finney would have to go between them to take his next munch. Finney recognised what was happening now, face reddish as he glanced toward the camera to his side, then back at Albert's stance, and finally noticing his own. He was kneeling, Albert was sitting with his legs apart, waiting for him to move that little bit closer.

"I- I don't want any more," he struggled to rush out, sliding himself back into his corner and away from the elder.

"But you're not even done yet, sweetheart," the murderer spoke, his smug grin falling when Finney moved away. "You seem awfully defiant for someone who's trying to be helped."

The younger teen shook his head, holding back the tears that threatened to form.

"Not hungry."

"And still, I don't remember asking," Albert reiterated. "I'll give you one more chance to finish eating before I force-feed you."

"Please- please don't," please do Finney pleaded, shaking his head erratically. What the fuck? He's being horny while he's being kidnapped? He panicked when he saw the other begin to stand up and make his way toward him. The younger curled his knees up to his chest, holding his hands up to help him beg. "No, no, please. Please don't. I'll- I'll- I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Open wide," the elder chimed, pulling Finney's hands away from his face so he couldn't push away the sandwich. Albert crouched on the floor in front of the brown-haired boy, using his free hand to pry open the captee's mouth before shoving the rest of the crisp bread and ham into it.

Finney choked on the food, coughing while simultaneously trying to chew it. Tears finally brimmed his eyes as his throat tried forcing the food back up, all the while it was being pushed into his mouth. His fingernails clawed at Albert's arm, desperately attempting to get the other's hand to move away. Finney could feel the air barely sneaking into his lungs as the sandwich was lodged in the back of his mouth, cutting off his means to breathe.

When at last some relief was given to the struggling boy after Albert took his hand away, Finney hunched over forward, spitting out the soggy food. Saliva dribbled from his mouth onto the concrete, followed by the teenager retching. Finney's dinner from the night before spilled out onto the ground just as the older of the two stood up and backed away.

"Ugh, you're disgusting," Albert scowled, moving further from the other. "I can't believe you did that to yourself."

The kidnappee felt his throat and tongue burning as he choked out a sob. His eyes screwed shut, letting his tears drip onto the puddle of vomit as he tucked in his chin. He probably looked pathetic through the camera lens with his wet face terribly hidden and gleaming under the brightness of the camera light.

"Why are you crying, sweetheart?"

"Why," Finney got out, trying not to gag again. "Why are you- why am I-"

He couldn't find the words. What words could he say in a situation like this?

"Why?" Was all he could articulate, biting his lower lip to stop it from quivering like the rest of him. His body was having enough trouble keeping him upright to avoid the possibility of falling into the puddle of spew, he didn't need to cry loudly, as well.

"I love you," Albert confessed, his voice softening. "That's why."

"Will you- will you let me go home?"

"No, not when this is your new home. Forget about your old life, you have me now."

...

I dont know if i should continue this serious anymore because of the comments im receiving because of it.