For A.

I’m fucking, fucking, fucking her from behind, pinning her arms behind her back, when Robotnik’s voice scratches over the intercom and I withdraw and run into the corner, frightened, thinking for the moment that he really did catch me this time. The walls of Room 8 in Cell Block 7 shrink to the size of an egg and for a moment, I can’t breathe.

“SNIVELY! REPORT TO CAPITAL LAIR IMMEDIATLY. WE HAVE A SPECIAL NEW ARRIVAL FOR THE SEQ BLOCK.”

It takes almost a minute for my fear to fully subside, and until then I’m huddled in the corner, shaking uncontrollably. I keep expecting this deafening roar of laughter to bombard me from all directions. I expect teasing voices and empty, hollow eyes. Nothing. Nothing from the intercom around the corner, nothing from the only real person in the cell with me.

So I can move again. I find the nerves to. She reenters my line of vision, all ninety kilos of fluid leaving her body. How long has it been since she’s eaten? A week? Two weeks?

She’s crying again. I hate it when she does that, just cries and cries and cries. I thought she’d be used to this by now. The others were. They eventually got used to the idea of no food, no water, me fucking them, the cold, the heat, all of it. This one hasn’t stopped crying since she arrived.

It’s a waste of moisture and energy. She should be storing it all to try and kill me, maybe escape. If this is all a façade, then it’s a good one. Her grief looks genuine.

It’s chilly. All I have is the top part of my uniform on, the rest of it lying neatly outside the cell. The keys to freedom are in the bitch’s teeth. The mood is ruined and it’s time for me to leave.

She doesn’t try to bite me when I take out the keys. Didn’t even try to swallow any. Like I’ve broken her down completely, this quickly.

“P-p-p-please…”

Not quite. She’s too attractive, still, even with those infinite ribs sticking out of her thin-as-paper skin, underneath her excellent tits. She leaks too much, and there’s still plenty left. Her bright crimson fur isn’t fucked enough, her body isn’t dead enough, her spirit isn’t crushed enough. And she can still speak.

“P-please… just let me go…”

**********

I’ll bet he thinks that if he conquers as much as he can, ruins as much as he can, then he won’t feel like he wasted his life. I’m sure that already he feels his internal clock beginning to slow, and he’s looking at the long list of what he’s accomplished in his lifetime and feels like he hasn’t done enough. He has to speed up if he’s going to make it right. I guess that’s why he keeps the garbage around.

Scrap. Endless miles of scrap, and all of it is utterly useless. The rubble of the old world, all around us, suffocating our empire, trapping us inside. Reminders of the world we destroyed.

Capital Lair is in the center of all this, as deep inside as we can possibly burrow. Our real headquarters, out of the many dummy buildings built solely for the rebels’ benefit. We can control and watch everything from here. For the most part.

To get into the building you have to get past three squads of SWATbots, all on a shoot-to-kill settings. Gratuitous, maybe, but it doesn’t leave us shorthanded.

All the ‘bots know me, of course. They don’t give me a second glance as I walk by, up the stairs, to the elevator, and up to Central, the control room. The sliding doors open and immediately I see him.

And he’s in a good mood.

“Nephew.”

“Uncle.” He smiles, endless rows of perfect white teeth; mechanical. I wouldn’t be surprised if he replaced his entire being with metal, bone by bone, flesh by flesh, brain for brain. He thinks like the God of mechanicals would. That would certainly explain a few things. Only a machine would think all of this was exciting.

And he’s really excited about something this time.

“We have a new prisoner. A very special prisoner. Would you like to guess who that would be?”

Hmmm… only an extremely rare specimen would call for such theatrics, nothing a mere rebel could accomplish. Maybe a creature higher on their food chain. A politician, ambassador, general… the leader of all leaders…

The leader of them all.

“King Acorn.”

My reward for actually trying at something is booming laughter, so dense it pushes me further into apathy. After it dies down, Robotnik wipes away tears that aren’t there. “Dear boy, no. But wouldn’t that have been fun, too.”

As he turns away to show me, his game ending, my mind works furiously to guess, coming up with absolutely nothing. Robotnik doesn’t wait for me and touches the giant control board.

The towering view screen opens and expands to showcase a pixilated, tiny figure huddled in a corner in the solitary cell block, not shivering but at a constant stiff posture, a state of defiant readiness. Brown fur, disheveled hair, vest… my breath catches in my throat and my unblinking eyes don’t tear away until I finally snap out of it.

Sally Acorn.

**********

Feelings are irrelevant. Having an opinion is a useless distraction, but I cannot help myself.

It’s called a rut, and it’s extremely difficult, if not impossible to get out of, or even identify. Me and Robotnik, we’ve been stuck in one for longer than I can remember. But this… this could help us.

All those times that we could have attacked, wiped out the rebels… we waited. We have stayed our hands because we realized that we needed something to fight against. The thought of us being the only ones on Mobius scared us more than we could imagine. We had to keep it going for as long as possible, but over time, even that got boring.

Now Robotnik’s fighting again. He’s making an effort to win, evident by the capture of the Princess. After all this time. Finally.

Although… this could be another exercise in submission. She can still be rescued if we let her, as we’ve done before. They can’t thrive without their leader, so if she were ever captured, we’d let her be rescued.

Their leader…

She truly is beautiful. I can see why the rodent likes her. Something about the way her body is put together; total chemistry, total rhythm, not an awkward angle. It’ll be sad to see her go again.

Ha. Not this time.

Robotnik put her in 4A, in SEQ Block, far away where even the Hedgehog would have trouble getting to her. Even if it’s only temporary, maybe he’s going to make her suffer a bit before setting her free. It’s progress, no matter what.

This is just too delightful.

**********

I’m watching on the video monitors in Central, alone, and my hand is wrapped around my cock but I can’t seem to get it up. She beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful, hot, god god GOD but no dice, no balls, no anything. Both of my arms are too tired to do anything but I am not giving up yet.

A short while later I’m in Cell Block 7, and fucking that one bitch in the ass, slamming into her bones, bleeding her, starving her, killing her, saying that I love her, promising her food and escape and everything. I still can’t get off and I leave without giving her anything else. She’s still crying.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’m back in Central, ignoring possible enjoyment I’d get out of watching rooms 4 or 8 in Cell Block 7, instead watching Sally on the monitors, from every possible angle. No cock action this time. My eyes turn bright red after two hours of just staring at her. My spine hurts, my ass hurts. She doesn’t move, doesn’t cry, doesn’t do anything. She’s watching something outside of the camera’s vision… something that might hold the key to her escape, something that’s taunting her, something that interests her… who knows. I can’t see it.

She’s our solution. She’s our key for happiness, somehow, this petite, little cock-teasing bitch. Filthy rodent. Whore. She has the answer. She’s my ticket.

I’m going to go down there and fuck her, hard. Then we’ll see what she can stare at.

**********

Sally doesn’t respond when I come in, doesn’t move when I open her cell and join her inside. She doesn’t flinch when I start taking off my clothes, which surprises me a little. Everything up to that point had been routine. You know: we capture her, she gets rescued, repeat.

Now she gets to feel what all the others feel. All of those that their “great and benevolent” freedom fighting group always forget about, all of those women that they never attempt to rescue because they’re not important enough. Those in Cell Block 7, especially.

Sonic could end the war just as easily as we could, but he knows, even at a subconscious level, he knows that the war has to go on for as long as it can. We have every card in the deck, and they have to wait for us to move if they want a peaceful and easy end.

But now… she gets to taste reality… hard, bitter, sweaty, pumping reality. When we throw her back to them, they’ll be changed forever. That’s why she’s here, in 4A, secure, tighter than tight. Safe, alone. Mine.

I’m pulling my pants off when she speaks: “If you’re going to fuck me in the ass, make sure you at least spit on yourself first. You’d be surprised how far a little courtesy will get you, and I might even talk a little for a change.”

Frozen in the mid-air, with one leg hovering above the floor with the rest of my pants hanging on it, my hands gripped around the belt, I’m almost too shocked to speak. “W-what?”

“Not into that? Not what you like?” She turns her head, moving for the first time in hours. I can see her eyes, straight through the locks of her hair. “Hmmm. Disappointing… but it’s a long night. I’m sure we’ve got hours, right? We can work our way up.”

The only thing I can think of to say is: “I was just going to ask you to suck me off.”

“Sounds like a misallocation of resources to me.”

I’m absolutely fucking dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“You didn’t go through all this trouble just to fuck me in the mouth, did you?” She pauses, thinking. “You’re not in love with me, are you?”

Finally, the feeling comes back into my body enough for me to set my leg down, my pants still technically on. “No, not really. Like I said, I just want you to suck me.”

“Hmmm.” She tilts her head, revealing more of her face, her slight grin, her teeth. “Maybe in a bit. First, I want to know some things.”

Blood flows to other places. I remember why I’m here. My pants come all the way off and I approach her, slowly. “Talk while you can.”

“Why?”

“Why… ?”

“Why go through all the trouble just for some head?”

I stop again. It’s too much for me to pretend I’m not surprised. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. First off, how in the hell do you know all of this?”

Sally pauses again, shifting her weight, still keeping most of her body hidden. “All of what?”

“Head, fucking, all of it. Since when were you the physical type?”

“… Not long.”

“How long is that?”

“A year or so.”

“Huh.” Instead of pulling my cock out of my underwear and slapping her in the face with it, I walk over and sit down next to her. We’re so far apart we’re not even touching, a first in itself. “I never would have guessed.”

“A lot has happened.”

“I guess so.” So many questions to ask her begin bursting in my brain, begging to be answered. It takes me a few seconds to decide on one. “When did you… when did it first start?”

Underneath the hair falling across Princess Acorn’s face, I can see her smile. “The last time I was captured.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“After the attack on the SWAT factory in the southern district, I was brought to K block and put into solitary for about an hour.”

“Wait, solitary? I don’t remember this.”

“Your Uncle said something about keeping you busy so you wouldn’t.”

“He… spoke to you?”

She crosses her legs involuntarily. “Much more than that.”

It all becomes clear to me in an instant, and more than a mental reaction is an undetectable physical reaction that she notices for sure. Clenched jaw, narrowed eyes, tight fists, all signs of the jealous ex-boyfriend, brother, father, whatever. I’m too far into it to stop myself; the damage is done.

“I didn’t know what to think at first. It never happened before, you know? Usually, you capture me, I stew for a bit, Sonic rescues me, the story repeats all over again. Life goes on. But when I was taken to solitary, that was the first moment where… I actually started to worry. And I had forgotten what it was like to be scared, you know? Some SWATbot was escorting me to that dark, soundless room, and I could have easily taken him down, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was too frightened.” She laughs, a sickening sound dripping with bitterness. “When I was locked inside, I actually started to cry.”

My hands and jaw are starting to hurt. I keep it going by telling myself that it’s nothing compared to how she felt.

“Your Uncle came in then. The light from the door didn’t even appear, but I could see his eyes appear ahead of me. He’s quicker than he looks. In one swipe he managed to rip my jacket off. It hurt, he caught a lot of me and just… flung it aside. I think I was bleeding. And then he got close, real close to me, and he’s so huge that he just carries this tremendous amount of heat around with him. I started to breathe heavily because I was burning up and my heart was beating so fast. I closed my eyes, thinking he was going to hit me. But instead he shoved himself inside of me.” Again, a bitter laugh escapes her. “I can’t imagine what things were like before sex. I know I used to never think about it, but now I think about it all the time. Because of your Uncle, I masturbate every day. At least.”

“I never knew.”

“He didn’t want to tell you. He said he didn’t know how you’d react to it. He thinks you don’t have genitals.”

Ha. “He said that?”

“We talked for a long time afterwards.” Sally, still beautiful in spite of the starvation, brushes the hair away from her eyes. They’re cold and empty and blue. “I was put back in the Cell Blocks and told to act just as I’ve been acting, not to share this with anyone. But… you know me.”

I shiver, and it’s not because of the cold. “What did you do?”

“Nothing serious.”

She’s still smiling, proud of what she’s done. I’m angry and bitter and jealous and frightened all at once. “Sonic?”

“Sure, he’s one of them.”

So I’m not the only one, and yet… I’m the only one.

I get up to leave.

“Hey, where’re you going?”

“I just need to figure some things out, some shit that’s been bothering me. I’ll be back to dig deeper.”

“Wait.” She stops me in my tracks. There isn’t a single bit of urgency in her voice, but it’s not like she’s pleading for me to stay. She’s ordering me to. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

It’s a thought, only a thought, and it would sound stupid out loud if I didn’t develop it first. Besides, I don’t owe her shit. Still, there’s one more thing. “How’d you get captured this time?”

“… Captured?”

“What was it? A training mission? Reverse engineering?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Weren’t what?”

“I… I came here willingly.”

Reverse engineering. Definitely.

**********

That son of a bitch.

Why the fuck didn’t he tell me? Goddammit, he can’t think that I’m not good enough to understand this. He must just want her all to himself, even to the point of controlling her. He’s gotten her to want to see him.

But why does this bother me? She was never mine, ever, so it’s not like I lost her or anything. She’s just a challenge, a difficult conquest, the only woman on Mobius I would have no chance of having… and he got her first. Admiration denotes respect denotes obsession denotes love denotes ownership. I want her like I want a piece of untilled soil. It would have felt great to get first crack at her, but now…

I never knew a war was being fought on my own side. I’m a fool for not considering it before, and now my enemy has a head start.

Fine.

If this is the game he wants to play, I can play it. No loyalties, no sympathy, no holding back. He doesn’t know who he’s fucking with. I’m not the scared, defenseless little shit that he wishes I was. She will be mine. I’ll teach her to hate him, I’ll teach her how to fuck, how to kill. I’ll teach her more than he can ever imagine. I’ll break her in half with all I can show her.

And then, he’s next.

**********

It’s easy to form the plan. The hard part is carrying it out.

To celebrate, I fuck Cell Block 7’s Room 4 one last time, whispering in her ear “it’s over, it’s over tomorrow, you’ll be free soon, I promise” and this causes her to squeal with delight. She’s different than Room 8, much thinner and much more cooperative. The sex is no longer rape; she’s thanking me for rescuing her, allowing, if reluctantly, to share her one last time. She kisses my chest, moans, digs her nails into my back, and even sucks my dick. It’s the least she could do, right?

The next day, I pretend like nothings happens, twice, to both my uncle and the prisoner. I shove her into the tube without saying a word, and to Robotnik I smile and brandish a clipboard.

“Ready.”

His fat, stupid, ugly form leans over the computer console, seemingly oblivious to me. “What took you so long with this one?”

“Sir, I was starving her.”

“Starving… of course…”

If the incident with Sally hadn’t jolted me to reality, I would have been surprised that he knew I’d been fucking the recent batch of prisoners. Of course he knows. That’s what started this whole thing. Me conquering most of the Knothole women, and so to get back at me, he conquers the most unconquerable woman on all of Mobius. And succeeds. And will succeed over and over and over again until the revelation will hurt me the most.

But what he doesn’t know is that you can never conquer a woman just by fucking her. Women are smarter than that. A girl like Sally wouldn’t just give herself to him, not even if she truly loved him. No, this is a conquest in itself, maybe even another coupe de grace. Men think that control comes this easily, in one instance, one fuck, one night, when in reality, real control comes to those who lie in wait, strategizing, collecting ways to bring you down from the inside, learning your weaknesses, repeating the technique over and over. Desire comes from need. Time heals wounds, but it also numbs and chisels at caution. One night of being dominated is worth it. Multiple nights are.

He’ll lose like this. If not to me then to her.

Trying to sound like I’m lying, trying to look regretful as I look into Room 4’s eyes, I say, “Yes, sir.”

Still looking into her eyes, I pull the switch. The light is blinding but worth it.

**********

Within the light, I figure it out. Everything. My own problems are nothing, less than nothing. The people in my life, they’re pawns, characters, manipulative organs, cogs in a machine working towards my advantage. I can do this. Oh, I can do this very easily.

A revolution is beginning, and it’s going to be a fucking doosy.