The Sound of Silence, A Resident Evil Fanfiction

Pleasure Hell

**A.N. - WARNING - THIS CHAPTER WILL BE IN 1ST PERSON AND CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT THAT WHICH MAY NOT BE BEST SUITED FOR ALL READERS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

I remember waking up to a bright light over my head and to the smell of a sterile room, like an operations room in a hospital. My head was terribly clouded, my thoughts muddled the more I tried to grasp where I was. For a moment, maybe I did think I was in the hospital. Or...where was I?

My ears could pick up footsteps. I heard a door open, and a face came into my view from the right side. He had sharp, hardened features, a scarred brow and eyes of grey, reminding me of a distinct shade of steel. His hair was a lighter shade of salt and pepper, adorned in a red shirt with a classy vest and dark tie, maybe slate grey or black, I was not sure. I couldn't see anything more than that, as another face, one veiled with a medical cap, goggles and a mask dressed in white with gloves holding a clipboard appeared to my left.

"How're you feeling, Mr. Kennedy?" The man asked me. I tried to answer, but I found that I could not form words. I felt like I was on a cloud...a really, really cold cloud. A table? Maybe the weightlessness was from something within my body. I knew I was not on the floor, but I was...somewhere.

"Vitals seem to be stable," The other man noted, scribbling away on his clipboard while he checked my vitals. My pulse, heart rate, my eyes, mouth...but he then moved around me and out of my sight. It felt like I couldn't look down, but I tried to. He moved my legs and reached under a...white sheet? How did that get there? I don't remember undressing...

But I did remember a prodding. I remember jolting in surprise as something wormed its way into my body. I shuddered as they felt within me, every touch hitching a breath I took. They pulled away, much to my...I don't know. I wanted to say relief, but...it was almost like I didn't want it to stop.

Wait, that didn't sound right.

"I think he's ready for you sir."

Ready? For what?

The man with the silver hair came back into my view, just as the doctor left. His face beheld a delighted smirk, something my gut wrenched at. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. I knew he was about to do something to me. And it would be something I'd hate for the rest of my life.

My hips were pulled down, the crunch of a hospital bed sheet crackling under my back. My legs were moved as he wormed his way between them. My body seemed to know what would happen, as I felt my heat finally sting my nose. I knew that smell...

The sound of a button and zipper told me all I needed to know. The rustle of cloth, and finally a swollen cock rubbed along my lower stomach. My body trembled, my own length starting to harden in response. He hummed in regard, as if studying me carefully.

He reached over. He stroked, and I could feel my spine ripple to arch off the table. My breath fell in shaky gasps, my hands grabbing the sides while I held on. Nothing was making sense to me. I felt good, yet I knew I was not drugged at all.

He seemingly chuckled at my helplessness.

"Excited?" He asked me. I couldn't answer. My body spoke for me, his constant, slow strokes driving my body wild. I felt even more hot than before, and I felt cloth rub along my swollen clit. I could feel fluid stain his clothes, that strong leg against my heat. I...wanted him? No...I didn't want him, but I wanted something.

We frotted, his hips rolling in a rhythm I knew was coming. My body was responding with achy throbs and trembles, goosebumps dancing over my skin. I could hear my own sighs, my stifled, choking moans telling him everything he needed to hear. His smirk widened to a hungry grin.

I then remember being blindfolded, my wrists already in cuffs so escape was hardly possible. But as he rolled his hips, resuming his frotting and play, his body already over mine, my heart began to thunder. I...I wanted it. I wanted it, badly.

But in my heart, I also knew I didn't. I didn't want this at all. And here I was, lost in euphoria's Cloud Nine.

I felt his cock slide through my clit. It was...an odd sensation. I wanted to say that it was painful, but it really wasn't. It was like someone had fit the right sized key to a lock. I took him whole, much to my own surprise. Maybe I was hot and swollen so much that he just fit. But either way, he arched in deeper until his head met my womb, with just enough cushion for his hips.

Then, he started his rhythms.

He was slow and steady, testing my responses. Every time he pulled away I whimpered, as if not prepared for him to leave me. Yet when he reentered, I could almost swear I heard my thoughts scream at me to kick him off. I wanted him off...yet I didn't want him to leave.

I was confused. Why am I thinking so wrongly? Yet at the same time, I felt as though I was being smothered in filth. This body that was mine was under pleasure's spell, and yet it felt like my soul was writhing.

His rhythms rose to a steadier pace, seemingly pulling me with him as he went. Every time his hips met mine, his tip kissed to my womb, constant, persistent. He was still taking his time, but I could tell he enjoyed himself.

And I was ashamed to admit that I was as well.

He reached for my chin and took my lips. They reminded me of a sweet red wine, sangria maybe, fruity with just enough alcohol residing.

And I hated wine.

I tried to turn away, but he held on. His tongue wormed my lips open, but my teeth clamped. No, I couldn't let him. Yet he played with my cock under the sheet, stroking me, tracing every vein with his gloved hand of leather. That dry rubbing of leather and skin shook every bone in my body.

And it only worsened when I realized how weak I became. He stroked the slit of my head, soaking his thumb in fluid, and would dart his thumb under to the length.

And every time he did that gesture alone, all the while, the Plagas womb faltered within. I could feel myself opening further and further the more he advanced. My head felt light, my pulse thundering in my ears, my blood boiling.

He grabbed under my knees and pushed down, folding me. His arms held their position, his cock still within my body, but when he thrust in, it was far different than his testing gestures from before. They were more primal, his excitement taking hold as his hips slammed painfully into mine.

And yet there was one spot of my body he found that I could not pinpoint for the life of me. It bloomed with pleasure, white dancing behind my eyelids. It hurt yet it felt so good. It made my womb weaken to the point where he threaded in and out of it with ease.

And there was nothing I could do. I was undone. Even after I fought to stifle my cries, biting my thumb, grinding the bones between my teeth, I couldn't cry out. I couldn't give him that satisfaction, but I also knew that I was beyond ruined.

His paces bruised my lower back. My bones ached, my joints hurt. I could only go so far. The sound of the hospital bed rattled under my ears, his hot breath to my nose, the wretched smell of our sex and the heat of it danced on my skin.

And yet, by some grace, he pushed me. Higher and higher to that sweet bliss that I sought for, praying for it to be over and done with. He pinned my hands, took my lips in a forceful kiss, and arched so hard his cock punctured into my walls.

I felt it, that pulsating bliss that shot from my cock and stained the sheet over my body and underneath me. I could feel his balls quiver against my clit, his cock spouting current after current of his seed. It filled me to the point I felt like an inflated balloon, so full, but still growing. My intestines were pushed, my bladder pressured under my rolling womb.

It hurt. The afterbliss was the polar opposite of what my poor, clouded mind wanted. I knew I was coming to my senses, but when I realized far too late who was above me, I knew then that I was ruined.

My womb claimed, knotted painfully to the man who leered over me, his cold eyes piercing into my heart and soul. And who smiled as he watched it curl and sink away into despair. He kissed my cheek and brushed my hair away from my face.

And all I could do was weep.