I crept around their base, my head spinning. It was very hard to focus under the circumstances I was put in. I shifted uncomfortably and tried to navigate their base. Where was he? I heard some commotion and initiated the cloak, waiting against a wall. Their Heavy Weapons Guy came stomping around the corner, followed by their Medic. I bit my lip and tried to calm my breathing, my hands kneading my knife.

I ran up behind Medic as he was about to turn the corner and disabled my cloak, lunging to capture his throat with my knife, but failed in my delirious state. He spun around and hit me into the wall, placing the saw blade to my neck and the syringe-gun against my stomach. "Vhat's thzis?"

"S'il vous plaît..." I panted, "What did you do to me?" He had an eyebrow raised, but it quickly turned into a wicked smile.

"I zimply got vhat I vanted from you: I vanted to hear you szcream." He began to laugh. It was terrifying and cold. Perhaps this was a bad choice of options. He holstered his gun and pulled me forward by the tie, blade still at my neck and starting to seep through the first layers of skin.

He turned me around and walked me into the infirmary and beyond into their base, saw to my neck and his hand on the center of my back, directing me in farther. I looked around frantically for other RED team members. They would not show me the mercy I was being expressed now, or... so the situation gave.

We reached a steel door that he opened and shoved me into, following me and closing the door, placing several bolts across it. I gripped my knife tightly. I shouldn't be here.

Medic pulled his gloves taught on his hands. "I never got an answer from you. Vhy ah you so bold as to return, Spy?"

I didn't really know what to say, for the first time in quite a while. He started closing the space in between us, his weapon tight in his grip. "I... I need your help, Medic."

"Oh? Vithz vhat?" He tapped my outstretched blade with his saw tip. I looked down to the noise and back up to see him lunge at me, pushing me back into his desk. His hand was tight around my neck as he held me down, saw-blade pressed to the inside of my thigh. "You know, eetz funny. Vhen I saw you standing over mein brothzers body, I vanted nothzing more than to keel you, and, in vain, I tried. You vere so fortunate to escape vith your life, but you came back."

I breathed heavily, watching his every thought pass through his eyes as he spoke. "In zat time I realized zat killing you vould be too easy. That I vanted to make you suffer for vhat you did, but zen your comrades appeared and defeated my plan to destroy your body." He paused to chuckle and looked away for a moment, watching the sun begin to set. "I thzought I had lost you for good, but you came back again," his eyes met mine again, "and in zat time in between, I realized I could do much vorse, and guarantee your return, had you grown vise."

His leg that had set inbetween mine slid up more and pressed against an all ready strained part of my anatomy, causing me to wince and squirm slightly underneath him. He merely smiled. "You szee, mein feind, thzere ah czertain primal needs zat overcome even zee most convincing of logics. And, as vell trained as you ah, vith zee added tension of your repression, your body took a pleasant liking to... assisted stimulation." He ground his leg against me again, the teeth of the saw now beginning to eat through the cloth protecting me.

"Zat's unimportant now, thzough. Vhy, now, shzouldn't I keel you?" His eyes grew dark as the teeth began to eat through my skin, my femoral artery pulsing in alarm.

"I have no reason." I breathed. And it was true. After all I have done I deserve to die and welcome it to such competent hands. The only man who compromised years of training and the unbroken focus I gave my targets.

He raised a brow to me and then grinned, his eyes flashing with predatory shine. "You zee... I had a feeling zat vas zee case vhen you came back. Zee look in your eyes vas... fearless when you thzought you vould die. Not only vas it easzy to keel you, but pointless." I felt the teeth of the weapon retract and heard it hit the floor. I exhaled in whatever way I could, between the adrenaline coursing through me, along with some other chemicals, and the hand around my throat it was growing increasingly difficult to breathe.

He soon after released my throat, but grabbed my wrist and manipulated the knife out of it that I had forgotten was there. He set it down on his desk neatly, smiled, and pulled me up from the desk by my tie. "Let's have some fun, ja?" He chuckled again and threw me towards his bed against the perpendicular wall. The back of my legs hit the edge of his cot and I fell back onto it, the upper half of me hitting the concrete behind it. The frustration of not being about my wits knows no bounds.

I looked up to watch him disarm himself, at least superficially. His syringe-gun and medical-pack were removed and set nicely on the desk, though, I knew what dangers lined his coat. He approached slowly and stood in front of me with his arms crossed, a smirk carved into his lips. "I must dzay, I'm impressed vith zee fact zat zee concoction has not worn off. I vas planning on re-dosing you, but it szeems zat there eez no need," he grinned, glancing towards my agonizingly taught pants.

I looked down, trying to break contact as my cheeks burned under my mask. I didn't really know what to think. I was a captive of the enemy team, but I didn't want to leave. I suppose I needed an answer to what he would do and looked forward to it. I guess I had grown just that sadistic over the years.

I looked up quickly as I felt something brush my jaw, which was soon seized in a tight grip. I felt him begin to unfasten the buttons on my coat with his other hand; he made very quick work of them. It was then I realized that, despite my will to surrender, it might prove all the more fun to put up somewhat of a fight.

I grabbed the hand at the bottom of my jacket and yanked it down to the bed beside me, pulling him away from me for the moment. I tried to leap up, but my tie was caught by him and by body whipped around, my face pulled in close to his. "You're going to fight? How cute." His lips fluttering against mine caused me to tremble, my heart skipping, but I quickly refocused myself to the best of my ability and broke his grip on me just in time to dodge a large needle.

I stumbled to the middle of the room and took an immediate left, running over to the desk. I grabbed my knife and turned around in time to parry a syringe lunge, moving to the center of the room again. "Zees eez fun, ja?" I kept my defensive stance and smiled to him, waving the knife around tauntingly. "I szee zee effects are starting to fade. Let's fix zat shall vee?"

He lunged at me again with the syringe, taking multiple stabs at me as I dodged and parried. He stabbed at me again, which I dodged, but it was a mere distraction as he closed the space between us and pushed me back against the wall behind me. He held me up by my throat, a sinister glow coating his stare.

I was about to speak, but was whipped to the ground, my tie loosened and my shirt ripped open by his ever-active hands. I wrinkled my nose and thrust my blade into his shoulder. He tensed and then began to laugh, grabbing my wrist and pinning it to the ground, my weapon left behind in his arm. He stroked my face with the needle tip and calmed himself a bit.

"Ah... mein kleines liebes... such fight in you. I'm vondering if vee should keep on, or if I should go ahead and re-dose you." The needle traced its way along my lips and down to my neck, finding skin again along my collarbone. I just stared him down, a small smirk developing. He raised a brow just before I grasped his wandering hand, rolling him to the side of me and pinning him down. I straddled him and forced the syringe from his hand, just smiling the whole time.

He began to chuckled, that stomach-tightening way he does, again and bucked up against my hips. My jaw quivered as I choked back a vocalization, my breath hitching. He began to grind against me, my grip growing loose, which he easily escaped from. He grasped my right hand and brought it to his lips, biting the tip of the middle finger of my glove and sliding it off.

I looked back down to him, sweat beginning to cling to the fabric against my skin. I shuddered, rocking myself against him as he took my middle finger into his mouth. It had been so long--any kind of contact--years even. I was always covered, even killing people I never felt their skin. It was magical.

I let out a breath I had been holding in, tilting my head back as he next took in my ring finger, playing both around his tongue. He pulled them out slowly, speaking deeply, "It szeems thzis ees not torture for you. At first I had thzought zat it vas merely zee serum, but it zeems thzere is something else." I looked down at him again and then away. It was embarrassing to be so fit of mind, but so subdued by him. I know the toxin had worn away, but I couldn't help but want to touch him.

"Ah, vhat a shame." He rolled me off of him and pulled me up by the tie still tight around my neck as he stood. I stumbled along until he tossed me over an empty, stainless-steel table, a hand firmly in the middle of my back. The cold stung my chest and stomach as he held me down.

"It szeems I haf grown soft on you, or rathzer, quite zee opposite," he mused, reaching around the front of me and unfastening my belt and then my pants, sliding it all down to my knees. I opened my eyes to the sound of my knife tapping against the metal surface as it lay next to me. I licked my lips, wanting the blood from it. I never left my knife unclean.

I slowly reached for it and grasped it gently, bring it to my mouth and dragging my tongue across the flat of the blade once more; probably the last time I ever would. "Trés beau, mon cher," he purred softly, his accent still present, but pleasantly subdued for the courtesy of the other language. I reveled in the familiar sound coming from his lips and that marvelous tongue.

He ground his hips against my backside, his gloved hands roving over my skin. I let the knife tumble out of my fingers, taking in a heated breath. A glove crossed into my line of vision and then another and I smiled in anticipation of the feeling of his skin.

His hands caressed the lean musculature of my form, down my legs and back up underneath my jacket and shirt along my back. A shiver travelled up my body at the inconceivable sensation, my breath hastening. "Parfait, mein herr," he cooed, his voice tremulous and immersed.

One of his hands left my skin for a brief moment in order to touch my face, tracing my jaw-line and up to my lips. His first two fingers pressed past them and down against my tongue, beckoning it to play. It happily conceded and danced with his impossibly soft fingertips until he retracted them.

My body leaped a bit as he brushed his saliva-slick fingers against my nethers, pressing them into me with some difficulty. I let out a heavy breath, shifting a bit as my phallus twitched. His left hand travelled around my thigh and found my attention craving flesh, performing delicate strokes along it, seeming more involved than I.

My fingertips pressed into the steel beneath me, my body pushing back against his as he worked on me. A suppressed moan rolled out of my throat as he stroked a particular cluster of nerves in me, my groin twitching again. "Interesting..." he muttered absentmindedly.

"Please..." I trailed off, the agony of waiting finally eating me.

"Oh, it speaks," he snickered, pressing on that spot again, my whole body twisting with anxiety. "Vhat vas zat again?"

"Please... I..." I pushed back against him, wincing at the humiliation as I then thrust myself forward into his hand.

"You vhat? Vhat makes you szink I vould give you zee satisfaction?" he snarled, removing his digits from me along with his other occupied hand.

I exhaled in aggravation, slowly turning around to face him. His eyes were cold and his expression lacking amusement as he scanned my body. "Beg for eet," he smirked, glancing at my prominence again that I tried to hide with my falling pants.

He met my eyes again, a few teeth bearing as he began to grin expectantly. "S'il vous plaît, mon docteur," I whispered, stepping closer to him, trying to save some of what little dignity I had left. I placed my hands on his chest and ran them down to his waist-line, glancing my lips across his and down to his neck. I tugged at his belt and planted delicate kisses along his jaw and bit at the soft skin down his neck and along shoulder.

"Mm... You'll have to try hardah zan zat," he murmured, licking at my ear. I exchanged a glance with him in time to catch his leer and its suggestive nature. I nearly glared and lowered myself down to my knees whilst unfastening his belt and beyond. I withdrew his imposing manhood from its suffocating prison, drawing it in between my lips and manipulating my tongue around the tip, reveling in the taste of passion.

I glanced up to see him staring down at me with lascivious pleasure. I glanced back down, annoyed, but compelled to convince him not to kill me yet. I heard him hiss as I led my tongue along the underside of him, encompassing the supple flesh in a curl of the muscle.

His hand ran across the top of my head and to the back, pushing me onto him more. I winced, but abided, leading him further towards my ambition, hopefully gaining some control over the situation. His fingers meandered down to the back of the tie around my neck, running his hand along it until he was over my throat, pulling me abruptly to my feet.

I shot a glare at him, quickly looking away and swallowing hard. "I vant to szee your face." I met his eyes again, my stare as piercing as I could manage, which forced a chortle from him. His fingers began to pry under my mask edge, wherein I grabbed his wrist.

"I can't," I stated firmly, watching his eyes follow mine. "You will always know who I am."

"I know," he purred into my ear, his bare hand snaking around my waist. At that point I rationalized that I would rather he see my face while I'm alive than in the contortion of pain when I'm dead.

"Please," he whispered, his fingers prying at the base of my mask once more. I swallowed once more and tilted my head up, allowing him to pull the mask up and away from me. I reflexively glanced out the window; my mask had never been off during daylight hours, though, thankfully, the sun had all ready set. An interesting noise came from my captor; a noise of intrigue, infatuation, and a passionate invigoration.

I winced as his fingertips travelled over my left cheek, his eyes chasing down every centimeter of my face, a grin failing to hide itself on his lips. I kept my eyes averted; shame, betrayal, and illness all manifesting in my stomach as I let him touch the most meaningful part of me. It may have been better to let him kill me instead, but slowly, I realized, I was beginning to enjoy it. I never allowed my face to be touched since I joined the league of my profession. I couldn't with their cardinal rule of never letting anyone see you. I felt like I was no longer in a war, but home and safe, despite in the clutches in this malevolent enemy.

My daydream was interrupted as his hair entangled fingers tightened, pulling tightly on my scalp. I shot a glare at him and he merely smiled. "Zthere's zat look," he chuckled. "Dreaming of a better place, mein Kriegshund?'

I smiled in spite of the pain and spoke, "Actually, non. It iz rathar nice 'ere."

A snarl curled his consummate lips and he released his grasp, swiftly grabbing my tie and pulling me close. "Let's fix zat zen, shall ve?"

He pushed me back onto the steel slab behind me. I hit rather hard and coughed, trying to regain the breath I had lost. I looked up to see him looming over me with maleficent intent. To much contradiction of the situation, he tenderly fondled my prominence, eyes ever calculating as he watched me react defiantly.

As soon as he had begun he left my presence, pacing over to his desk and opening the drawer, taking out what looked like a glass jar. He walked back over and set it on the table next to me, unscrewing the lid and scooping out a few fingers worth of a somewhat discolored substance. I cringed at the gelatinous appearance in the anticipation of what was about to happen. It was degrading, for one, and painful, as I can imagine. I had managed to avoid being on the receiving end of such acts before, but had heard the stories.

"It's not for your szake," he sneered as he meticulously coated the necessary part of him in the substance. He wiped his hand off with a nearby hand-towel, grasping the section of belt behind my tailbone and hauling it up, along with the top half of my pants that I had managed to shimmy on. The fabric stopped mid-thigh and his hand occupied itself under one of my knees as the other directed himself along the tense ring of muscle, now exposed.

My eyes found him with pleading gleam, though, I'm not sure what I was trying to convey. I couldn't say I didn't want it, but I didn't want the pain. I can't say I didn't want him; he was so strong, so different than our medic. So... malicious, vengeful. Even RED's spy wasn't like that.

I flinched as pressure applied itself to the area in question, my body squirming underneath him. His grip on my knee joint tightened as he pushed himself into me with one solid thrust. My lips parted for a scream, but it was muffled by the insertion of my tie, which I proceeded to express myself into. I reached for him and my tie to find that both of my hands were now apprehended by his. I struggled underneath him, the pain nearly unbearable. I had a relatively high tolerance for pain, I had to, but this was insufferable.

He withdrew himself nearly all of the way and pushed himself back in farther, causing another series of thrashing from me which he observed with a lustful gaze and radiant grin, indulged in my agony. I suppose I deserved it.

He licked his lips as he began a steady pace in me; it was slow and sympathetic -- I think he was allowing me to adjust, though, I'm sure he would never tell me. My damp and shattered eyes never left his, desperately hoping to gain some insight into this man I couldn't resist. From the beginning he captivated me, and I still didn't completely know why.

The pain came less and less, the sparks turning numb and my flailing calming. I huffed a bit as I relaxed, his grasp loosening and finally leaving my wrists to adjust my legs, cupping either one under the knee. My focus grew hazy and my head lolled to the side as I perceived the better side of this twisted little dance of ours.

I shifted slightly, in congruence with him, which resulted in an electrifyingly pleasant sensation jolting through me like it had prior. A cry collided with the fabric in my mouth, my chest jerking towards him. "Ahre you going to behave?" he inquired, reaching for my tie. I nodded as compliantly as I could, my eyes glistening with an appetite for something mortally insatiable.

He pulled the tie from my mouth briskly, and I let out a heavy breath and with the second, "Je suis à vous." I pushed against him as well as I could, a weak smile curling my lips as I attempted, in my feeble position, to convince him to continue, which didn't take much. He leered at me and thrust into me again, aiming, with precise accuracy, for that intoxicating spot.

A guttural moan resonated through my chest and spilled over my lips, the clothes around my arms and back growing hot against me. My breath hitched with each collision, my body sliding back from the impact and the lack of friction between the table and I. Who knew a German could perform like this.

I let out a pained gasp as he withdrew himself from me and grabbed the tie around my neck, pulling me off of the table temporarily, only to turn me over and force my face down onto it. The cold bit into my cheek, a rare sensation, but not quite as exotic as the next. He thrust into me again, his obsessively manicured nails clutching the flesh around my hip joint as he continued his task of 'torturing' me.

My face grew hotter and my skin slicked over with perspiration, labored breaths escaping in the from of vocal pleasure. "Mon dieu, docteur," I breathed, shifting ever so slightly so that the stimulation I received was never a glancing blow.

I heard him chuckle over me, controlled as ever. My eyes opened slightly in thought as I presumed that did not bode well for me. The next thing I knew an affirmative hand clutched my jaw and pulled me up from the table. His pace slowed, but only to further my progression; I shuddered as each stroke, and every inch it devoured, made itself known.

I heard his tongue course over his lips as his chin brushed my shoulder, my body bowed back towards him, his hand catching the strangled noises as they attempted to flee my throat. I whimpered pathetically, my lips parted as I tried to breathe.

"I do hope you ahre not enjoying thzis," he whispered, his tongue chasing the words to the outline of my ear. "I vouldn't vant to have to make eet vorse for you." He chuckled again and made his way to my vulnerable neck, taking advantage of the precarious situation, taking pieces of the skin inbetween his precious lips and lapping over them with that sharp tongue.

Oh god, it took every ounce of will not to release just then. I wanted to surrender everything to him, let him make me pay for hurting him, but I had to have more; I couldn't give in yet. This may be the last shot at ecstasy I had, and I wanted all of it. Enough to ignore the pain later in remembering this moment.

"Zat's quite zee stamina you possess, mein Mörder. I must say I am impressed, but I know zat you cannot hold on forevah." His right hand slid up my lower abdomen, dipping in and out of the vaults of muscle. A staggered 'ah' noise trembled from my lips as I tensed, holding on with fragile will.

"Oh, mon tueur," he murmured, hand making its way lower, "just surrender." His hand grasped my aching flesh viciously, hard strokes accompany equivalently forced thrusts into me.

"Doctuer!" I exclaimed as my head threw back to his shoulder as if my soul were being ripped from my chest. My body shuddered in volcanic heat and fissure, fire blossoming in every fiber of my simple, human structure. My fingers tightened into his heavy, cloth pants while I choked for air. His hand that was now merely resting on my collarbone quickly found my left hip to help initiate his climax as he forcefully continued on.

It was merely numbing stimulation at this point and I had only noticed that he had climaxed by the stillness. The rest was lost to my deluded perception. My eyes caught the glimmer of fast approaching table as I realized he had dropped me. I caught myself as best I could and clamored to stay on the table, but to no avail. I slid to the floor with a hard thump and fell the my side.

A solid boot set on my ribs and rolled me onto my back, his stare burrowing through my pupils and crawling around under my skin as my eyes couldn't resist finding his. I trembled as I lay in the broken pile of grandeur, prey to whatever he deemed fit.

A smug smile twisted over his face as his gaze prowled over me, a disheveled, once mighty and triumphant, spy for the opposing team at his mercy. And it was even erotic for me. This man, in his nothing special, had bested me; it must have been something special. I thought back to when I first met him, several days ago, in that hallway, his hallway.

I forced myself up enough as not to choke by the means of my tie as it was hauled upwards. I made it to my knees and struggled onward, my breath still broken. My chest met the re-chilled table again, but managed to stay there with assistance this time. "I vas going to kill you..." he commented in a way similar to the table's nature.

"But?" I managed to breath as one hand was apprehended and bound with a soft-textured rope. I hoped to retain some self-worth enough to impress him to keep his decision.

"But... I vould rathzer keep you here." His voice was dark and foreboding, sending chills down me. Not exactly what I expected or had in mind. My other hand was taken behind my back and tied tightly against the other. I didn't exactly struggle; with what energy would I do that?

He pulled me up by my bindings and spun me around, staring me down again. I quivered uncontrollably as I attempted to intimidate him in the slightest with my unbroken gaze; not exactly the ideal situation for such boldness. Either way, it failed as he barely flinched and actually developed a smile in watching me seek some kind of ground.

And I realized it was his sickness. That twisted, apathetic, indifferent nature of his. I could see it in his eyes, feel it searing through me when he first saw me. He had no motivation to let me live; in fact, quite the opposite. He was a demon dressed like a saint... and it turned me on. I had never in my career faced down an opponent who had nothing but to kill me, and would enjoy it. All of them have someone to love, someone to go home to; he only had those to destroy.

I shuddered with blissful contentment as that nagging curiosity finally settled. It wasn't exactly as comforting as I thought it would be as my mind quickly caught up with my thoughts in realizing I was in the hands of a madman, but one who was very good at what he did; to me at least.

"Kommen herr Spion," he pulled me along by my tie and walked me over to the wall near his bed, backing me up against the wall. He reached around behind me and fiddled with an iron chain that protruded from the wall. I pressed against him as he did, an incoherent smile decorating my face. He gave me a quick and curious glance, but continued to focus on his hands as if he could see them through my body. He gave a firm tug on the chain before stepping away.

"You aren't going to chain my 'ands above my 'ead?" I asked rhetorically, smirking as I did.

"I vant to vatch you struggle vhen I flay zee skin from your muscle," he grinned, picking up a scalpel from his desk. My breath caught in my throat and refused to moved when he approached me.

His left hand snaked over my oblique, gripping it tenderly and placing the blade to my chest. A trembling breath finally emerged at his touch, and my eyes frantically searched his for some hope. I could take a lot of pain, but I knew this man could milk every ounce of will from me.

His hand followed my body up to my neck, cupping my jaw, while the steel edge followed and caressed the other side. He leaned in and placed an amorous kiss on my lips. My eyes fluttered shut and I leaned into him, but just as it came it was gone. I fell taught against the binding, my jaw shaking softly. I opened my eyes slowly and watched him over by his desk, my stomach quelling again. He kissed me.

He set the scalpel down next to a set of other pristine tools and smiled. "But zat iz for later." He fastened up his coat, picked up his arsenal and left.

And I can't wait for him to come back.

wow that's hot.

This is fantastic and I want more

>>4
>>5

Emphatically seconding both of these.

>>4
>>5
>>6
Agreed.
Jesus, this is wonderful. Do you intend to make any more of this, or are you going to leave it here? ...or are you just plain gone?

Euuggghhh.,,, wow. I didn't even know it was reposted. I am still lurking. I've been working on a fic for Wat based on her Slut!Medic comic (MALpractice), but I have others, or did. I guess I'll repost them. It's nice to see people still like them or read them. Thanks to the Anon that reposted, and thanks to the channers who read and enjoyed. Sorry for the illiteracy; this just kind of caught me off guard.

god, thank you for sending this wonderful writer back to us.
working on a fic for Wat based on her Slut!Medic comic (MALpractice)That...that...oh, god, seriously, I think I love you. I really, really do...

This is amazing.

One of the best fanfics I have ever read.
Seriously.