//some kind of content warning. This one isn't too bad but the next one is.
Freeport 10
"Finding one she could not breathe without..."
Millicent.
It was a name she hadn't heard for a while. Most of her life, at least since she was orphaned, she had been Milly. Milly was an adorable damsel, often found in distress. She was the beacon of hope for day-to-day life in Freeport 10, and so when people wanted to attack day-to-day life on the Freeport, they attacked her. She had been kidnapped more times than years she had been alive. In her youth, that wasn't as impressive, but she had turned 19 this year, and suddenly that statement was becoming more weighty. It was sad, and it was harsh. Surrounded by people, yet somehow completely alone. That's just who Milly was.
Millicent, on the other hand, was a different creature entirely. Millicent carefully calculated everything about herself. Her smile, her posture, her clothing, her voice. She could be tied up in a dusty supply crate, maybe even kicked a couple times, and still be the prettiest thing you've seen in your life. Millicent reinvented those skills, and then she perfected them so that no one could best her at them. Finally, she built herself a perfect mask, a tool that bet the will of everyone who witnessed it. Then she named that mask Milly.
Millicent was the one that put Milly in harm's way, because it forced the people into action. Millicent was the one that kept up the illusion of absolute peace on the Freeport, because it made Milly a target. Millicent used Milly to really show the gap in happiness between the regular denizens of Freeport 10 and the refugees coming in from Malta. She wanted to be rid of the refugees, they simply took up too many resources for her people to live comfortably. And if her people weren't living comfortably, neither would she.
She made sure she shone as brightly as possible, because a bright light cut deeper shadows for them to wallow in. Shadows that they would lash out from, to unite the people of the Freeport against them. She was having the refugees orchestrate their own expulsion. But, at the climax of her plan, an unexpected variable appeared. Maxamillion Kress, another Zoner, one from the Omicrons. The Omicrons were a worse place. On Freeport 10, belief was the currency of law. In the Omicrons, power was the great equalizer. Maxamillion Kress was a creature that was overperforming in a foreign habitat. When belief speaks, truth goes silent, but when power speaks, even belief steps back.
Not only did Max bring her plans to a stop by rescuing her in a manner most violent, and not only did Max stabilize through force of unflinching and unforgiving violence the refugee crisis and security on the station, but he even had the audacity to forget her after they first met. He wasn't charmed by her. He was barely even impressed by her. And it destroyed her control over the people of the Freeport. Whatever darkness was eating him alive behind his eyes was snuffing out any spark that she laid in him. Millicent gave him every chance to fall for Milly's charms, but he didn't bite. So she took it into her own hands.
Eventually, it worked. It wasn't the head-over-heels obsession that she wanted from him, but after months, he was a little bit closer to her. There wasn't trust built on belief, like she wanted. She had to play by his cards. There was leverage built on power. He had the strength, the cruelty, and the apathy to bring Milly to a halt, to simply not engage with belief. But Millicent traded Milly's innocence for a leash on Max's guilt, for a sword tied above his newfound community, dangling by a single hair of a horse's tail. It wasn't a victory, by any means, but it was a stalemate that he didn't know how to navigate.
And that was how she had made it to her new day-to-day life. She spent most of the days in Max's room, trying to get closer to him. A few times, she'd made use of a chemical cocktail containing a large number of biochemical aphrodisiacs and a small amount of Nox to lure him to bed. However, she used the drugs sparingly. It seemed Max had never learned how to be gentle with a woman, and recovering from him takes at least a day.
He didn't tell her much about himself, and he kept most of his things either on his person or under lock and key. Today, however, she had her eyes on one of those personal belongings. An alien artifact that he seemed to be obsessed with. He never let it too far out of his sight, but recently he'd left it in the room with her twice when she had asked him to fetch a change of clothes.
"Hey, Maxy~, can you fetch that white long sleeve from my room? It should be in the second dresser drawer." "You mean mine?" "Yeah, yours!"
Max stood up from staring at his artifact on his desk. Milly had been sitting on his bed watching him watch it, waiting for her moment. But he seemed to hesitate, seemed to understand what she wanted, and seemed to consider taking it with him, just across that short distance. Was he glaring at her? No, it was more like he saw straight through her. Eventually, he stood up and made his way to the door, seeming to consciously decide to leave the artifact with her. "Fine. Back in a minute. Don't get into trouble."
She didn't even wait until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore. Taking careful note of where and how the artifact was positioned and oriented, she reached out to grab it. But it was hard to reach towards it. In fact, it was almost as if, somehow, she didn't want to. Instinctively, she needed to avoid it. But she hadn't made it this far into life on instincts. Force of will, intelligence, and charisma. Those were her skills, not instincts, so she touched it.
At first, it was just cold. Horribly cold. But that soon became the least of her concerns, as the shadows in the room seemed to bloom, consuming her peripheral vision, and whispers started pouring out behind her neck. Worse still, she found her hand was stuck to the artifact. She couldn't let go, and the shadows were taking over her sight. Shadowy claws reached from the desk, grasping at her, causing Milly to backpedal until she tripped onto the bed. That was no help, though, as the darkness crawled up the edge of the bed, nipping at her calves and ankles. The only light left in the room was the faint glimmer from the artifact. Curled into the smallest possible ball she could manage, back against the wall, she waved the artifact at the encroaching shadow, keeping it back, if only just barely.
A voice... no, a collection of voices speaking as one, laughed at her. "Curiositykilledthecat,ohfelinemine.Iwonderifsatisfactionwillbeenoughtobringitback?"The voices were sickening in and of themselves, but, being unable to grasp her, the shadows found a different way to torment her. The world fell away around her, giving way to a vast, howling sea of black fog and mist. In it, reflections watched her. People she once knew, people she had at the very least seen, and herself. Silk threads bound them at the necks, hanging like wicked fruits from an evil tree. A tree that was herself, Milly, which in turn hung by the neck from herself, Millicent.
Blood was pooling in the void, draining from those souls that she had robbed of a future. Millicent's reflection looked at herself, larger than life, reaching out and daring her to resist her condemnation. Millicent's skin was cold. It had been a very long time since she had felt fear, but ghosts were not her strong suit. Things that couldn't be fought by someone else. Her reflection's giant hand had almost touched her, threads bound between her fingers, but with desperation Millicent put the fading light of the artifact between herself and her giant reflection.
The light from it seemed to only get dimmer, but her reflection stopped, instead pulling on the rest of her strings. Seeing the bodies flail, struggling and scraping at the threads around their necks put pins and needles in her skin. At this moment Millicent became aware of how badly she was shaking. The Milly on the string began screaming words that Millicent couldn't make out, certainly crying out for help. Millicent couldn't move at this point, as she couldn't tell which prospect was scarier: dying like that, or being stuck here watching this forever. She began really wondering what it felt like to die. What happened after her brain stopped working? It wouldn't feel like anything, would it? But she couldn't comprehend what not feeling was like, either.
The giant reflection of Millicent stepped aside, bringing Millicent's attention back. In the ocean of blood, a bridge of bones had floated to the surface, and from the shadows stepped something massive. A demon, to be certain. A crown of a few bodies that she recognized rested upon its head, and a scepter of a few more in its hand. People that Max had killed to maintain order. A cape of hundreds that she did not recognize flowed from its collar. In its mouth, it was chewing on a few more, their blood streaming down its jaws. All these people were alive, despite being broken, bent, stitched together, and in the process of dismemberment by massive fang.
"..." Millicent's voice failed her. She wanted to yell, to scream for help, to beg the creature that now towered over her to spare her life, at least, even though it seemed to have no intention of doing that. Instead, with her heartbeat in her throat and tears streaming down her face, she once again put the nearly-extinguished artifact between herself and the horrors reaching for her. This time, though, the demon grabbed it, trying to take it away from her. In a panic, she pulled it away, but the demon reached past where any shadow had reached and grabbed her by the collar. Millicent realized she didn't have a chance as the demon pulled her up. The metallic smell of fresh blood hit her nose. This was it, she died here. She was afraid to die here, honestly.
With its other hand, the demon grabbed the artifact. It was her only lifeline, but she didn't have the strength to resist it. This demon wanted her to die alone and hopeless. It wanted to take everything from her. It relished in her suffering, in her terror. Finally, her voice squeeked out, timid and distant:"h-help..."
"That's what I'm trying to do."
Max finally pulled the artifact from Millicent's grip, placing it back on the desk, and then setting her down as gently as possible on the bed. Millicent was in shock. What she had seen was certainly some level of real. Those people were real. The giant tapistry of dead that hung off of Max's shoulders was real, in some sense. The people in his mouth were real. She knew exactly what it meant. Being judged by herself for simply doing what was necessary to survive was painful. But what she had done was betrayed the trust of a man-eating demon, carrying the weight of hundreds if not thousands of people. She was sitting on that demon's bed, having toyed with and even drugged that demon, having given her body to that demon. She could just as easily end up another mangled body in its wardrobe. "Did you see everything you wanted to see, Millicent?" Hearing her name simply drove home how exposed she was, what kind of danger she was in."Will... will you eat me too?" The words seemed to sting Max slightly. Antagonizing him was certainly a stupid decision, wasn't it? "No. Not a big fan of human, personally. Maybe it's in the preparation, but frankly, I don't want to try again."
Max was between her and the door. She couldn't move her legs, and he could hear anything even if she could move. The only time he ever slept heavily was when she had drugged him, and she didn't dare to do that now. She couldn't even put together the energy to put on Milly. All she had was a shaken and scared Millicent. It was like she was a child again, but there was no community to appear and subdue the danger. It was just her and the killer in the room. So she pressed her back against the wall, and nearly burried herself beneath the bedding, leaving a small hole to watch him from.
Victory, at a cost greater than she could have ever planned for.
I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.
"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"
//Content warning. Smut sex, and cannibalism and suicide are also talked about.
Freeport 10
"...breath became of little consequence."
Millicent woke up. That in and of itself was strange, she had thought she wouldn't be able to sleep. Perhaps a man-eating guard dog was comforting, in a way. He had left in silence to tend to his duties around the station, even leaving some food for her. It was a strange and confusing day for her. She didn't dare to leave his room. What if he thought she was telling his secrets? She'd be dead within the hour.
The silence in the room was heavy, which only amplified the sound of her thoughts. Memories of what she saw, of the bodies that adorned Max. She tried to formulate better situations in her head, to make a doubt so that she could give him its benefit, but those visions seemed absolute. Milly was scared quite often, after all, danger was around every corner for her. But Millicent hadn't been scared since the assassination of her parents. She had always been within reach of the community, safe despite dangers, but a community was merely a drop in the pot for that tapestry of souls.
Doing nothing all day but eating the curry Max had left for her and contemplating her woes, she was oblivious to the approaching footsteps. She jumped slightly when Max opened the door, looking about as worn out as normal. She didn't say a word, unlike normal. He set down a stack of paperwork on his desk, sat in the chair, and spun it around to face her. The expression on his face, it had always seemed like boredom, but now Millicent could see something else to it. Weariness, perhaps pain? Anger, most likely. Was he mad at her? She wanted to ask, but her voice failed her.
The two of them simply sat in silence. Max seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She couldn't. The words wouldn't string together. Her mind was screaming at her to run, but she couldn't move. His voice cut through the silence, a familiar phrase taking on an ironic new meaning. "Somethin' on your mind?" Finally, invited to speak, nearly commanded to speak, the words came free."I'm sorry." "I don't particularly care. Did you see what you wanted to see?" "I..." She had wanted answers. Now she was left with more questions. "Who are they?" "I don't know what you saw. "They" could be anyone." "Those people attached to you. The ones in your mouth. The ones in your cape."
"Never seen myself with a cape. But yeah, suppose it's time.
I was born on planet Pittsburgh, inheriting my family's debt to the Boron mines. Dad died down there, and when we came of age, it would be my brother's and my turn. So, we took the only option that seemed to have the chance to save us. Crime. We fell in with this pair of twins, we called 'em Romulus and Remus. They were a pair of geniuses, and it really felt like we could never lose with them, and they made me their second-in-command. Always ten steps ahead, and I got to share the glory. Back then, I took my first lives. LPI, who came to keep us in line, and Xenos, who believed that if we weren't with them, we were against them. Lives taken in ignorance, believing we could simply win freedom from our oppressors, the first set of souls to haunt me.
After a few great years, Romulus and Remus decided they needed to leave. They had taken all the heat for the gang's activity, and they intended to run off with it, keeping eyes on them until the end to give us a shot to live. They made it off-surface, disappeared into the night sky, and the gang shut down, going as far under as possible. The neighborhood got absorbed into the Xenos, but it didn't sit right with me. Watched them harass people and kick them around, and I couldn't do anything about it. You raise your voice at a Xenos, you'll be full of holes before you finish your sentence. Next set of souls to haunt me. People abandoned to tyranny by my own incapability.
I ran off to the stars as well. Had to bury myself with distance. But I didn't have much but a stolen Dagger, so I crashed in with the Zoners looking for a job. Found one that promised good money for doing next to nothing. Thought it was too good to be true and that the payout was a little specific. Turned out that I was right, the payout and the job description were some kind of code speak I wasn't familiar with. It was a suicide pact disguised as a research freighter for people who wanted to "die in an accident". By the time they realized I was there to make a million credits for nothing, not to die, it was a little too late. We were horribly low on supplies and a real long way out from rescue. So they decided that, to redeem whatever mistake they all thought they needed to die for, they would "recycle their lives."
"...that's awful...the people in your mouth-" "Good friends. They were really, really nice people. Too nice." Millicent opened her mouth to say something else."Don't apologize. Don't even feel bad for me. I know what I did. Takes being pretty hungry to eat a person, let alone someone you knew. But I know I should have starved."The guilt she felt from her fear was starting to crush her.
"After that, I just wanted to shut myself in a hole and throw away the hole. Can't die, that'd be an insult to the people who died to keep me alive. But I sure as shit didn't want to live, neither. I could see them when I was hungry. I could see them when I was full. I'd go hungry until I'd keel over, just shaking and crawling, and eat with all the shame I deserved. Eventually, I just figured out how to live with that shadow forever clawing their names into my back, how to accept that the spirits' judgement sure wouldn't be kind. How to live with my sin. Next set of souls to haunt me. Lives, desecrated by my hands. People whose kindness I took advantage of.
Spent a lot of time hiding. While the news was fresh, I didn't get a lot of kind looks or charity 'cause, really, it don't matter if they told you to. It don't matter how much you liked them. It don't matter if your only other choice was a slow and painful death. You don't eat people. Almost everything I ate was stolen, almost everything I had was also stolen. People looked at me like a rat, but they never managed to say anything to me that I hadn't already said to myself. Eventually, though, news became stale. People started forgetting. So I went out into the deep Omicrons to hide.
Eventually, I did meet people again. Colony Ship Wrocław, and good ol' Captain Jacob Manfred. Good bunch of people, a little bit TAZ-ey, though. Spent a lot of time whispering to gemstones and drinking exotic teas and tying their hair into fancier and fancier knots. But a colonyship has biodomes. Can't run out of food on a colonyship. Can run out of luck, though.
Buncha Order caught us out on one of our deepspace trips. Said that they had cornered an alien infectee on the ship. Said they were going to hold us there until they found their target. They scanned us day after day after day. Didn't find anything. They said their intel was absolute and that they weren't leaving until they got their target, so after about a month and a half of this, the colonists got fed up. Started saying no and telling the Order to leave. Then the Order got fed up and told the colonists that if they didn't find the infectee, they would exterminate the entire ship to "manage the alien threat". Well, I'm sure you can guess how that ended."
"How did you get out?"
"Barely. People used to joke about "22 guns of neutrality", but man, was it pretty to watch them go. Didn't really help, though. By the time we'd got around to fighting back, the Order had a small fleet outside. I tried to fight back, but you know. Marine after marine after marine. Captain told me to take his daughter and his Starblazer and run, that Freeport 11 would help us, but she got hit while I was taking her to the exit. Died in my arms, and I left the colony ship alone. His Starblazer had this kind of countermeasure that messed with automated targeting systems really bad, called them "Genjutsu flares". Interceptors that came to stop me got hit by flaks from their own battlecruisers.
And I made it out. It cost the life of every soul aboard that ship. Last set of souls to haunt me, people I failed to help."
"What about the people here?" "Huh?" "The refugees. The ones that were fighting. They were with you, too." "Were they? Suppose I kinda did pity them. I've been poor and hungry and angry and scared a few times."
The return of the silence didn't feel as awful. Max looked terrible, even more tired than normal. No doubt reminding him of all of this wasn't doing wonders for his exhaustion, either. But there was something great about Max finally opening up. It felt like his hard exterior wasn't an act for her to try to break through, it was more like a measured and reasoned reaction to the worst possible situation she'd ever heard of in her life. Neither, anymore, did she see a demon clothed in the dead. Just a convict carrying out a harsh sentence with as much dignity as he had left. Millicent remembered her original wish, to wrap Max around her finger, to have him as a powerful soldier in her army of neighbors. Now, all she really wished for was to stitch together this sad divide between them.
After a long silence, as Max seemed to recover from his memories a little, Millicent hazarded a question: "Max?" "Hm?" "What do you see? When you touch the crystal?" "Nothing I haven't seen three inches away from a mirror." She kicked him lightly."That's not fair." "I'm not fair."
Millicent pouted. Puppydog eyes were never going to work on Max, but damned if she wasn't going to try. "Listen, Milly-" "Millicent." Max raised his eyebrow."Milly is in everyone's head, and that's why she's everyone's friend. Your little toy hurt her a lot and she doesn't want to come out anymore. So, Millicent." Max stood up, looming over her. He almost seemed to smirk at her."So who was it that drugged me?" Millicent couldn't look him in the eye, now. Max was still incredibly scary, despite the truth coming out."Um, uhh... Milly... on behalf of Millicent..." "Hmm. Izzat so."He was definitely smiling. It was definitely smug, but there was something else to it. "Yeah." Millicent's voice was slowly shrinking out of the audible volume levels."I just reallywanted youto likeme." "Well, then, little miss Millicent, here's the deal: you caused me a lot of trouble. A lot of the blame for that trouble fell onto poor Milly."Millicent thought that Max was reaching into his armor's pockets, but then his breastplate fell to the floor with a clatter, and then he reached to his shoulder pads. "Of course, it's bad for other people to get punished for your wrongs, right? Believe me, I know."She figured it out once he took his undershirt off."And finally, I don't think I've ever seen you all timid and shy and small. So it's my turn to play games, alright?" Max grabbed Millicent by the waist and pushed her onto the bed. "I-I-I don't taste nice!" "Most people don't."
Max's hands were still like sandpaper. The drugs had blurred her memory, but a few things stuck with her. Rough hands, the muscles under his skin, his weight and strength. The heat from his body was especially familiar. What was different was that she was twitchy. The drug seemed to numb some of these lighter touches. Or, maybe it was the fact that she was still afraid. Either way, her skin tingled, and his rough hands were driving her insane a little too easily.
Compounding this problem was her choice in outfit. That is, she hadn't left his room since yesterday, simply using his bathroom and shower, leaving her in the lacy white lingerie from then, paired with the white stirrup thigh-highs. A thin mesh babydoll top stood between her and him, doing absolutely nothing to stop his hands crawling up from her waist.
"Have you ever- mmgh..." He had made it a point to brush over her areola, abusing her sensitivity for fun. "Have you ever considered hand lotion?" "Yeah. Considered it a waste of time." "Maybe consi- ghhmm!"
Now he was unabashedly playing with her nipple. She was usually self-conscious about her relatively flat chest, but it seemed he was still able to have fun with them, much to her frustration. She tried to catch his hand and move it, but she was far too weak to stop him, and all he did was grab both her wrists in his left hand and pin them above her head. With the other hand, he unclipped the back of her top, pulling the thin mesh up to where their wrists met. Her lace panties were the sole remaining defense, but he had other plans first. Returning his right hand to her left breast, he followed up with playfully biting her right.
The tingles and tickles were torturing her at this point. She struggled against him, but it was completely hopeless. Between the weight difference, the strength difference, and the size difference, she was stuck. "Guh-... could you wah-... wait a moment?"
He responded by tugging on her nipples, sending fireworks down her spine. His smug face greeted her when she started paying attention to her eyes, spinning her top on one finger like a fabric pizza. He threw it over his desk as Millicent propped herself up with one arm, using the other to guard her poor, abused breasts.
"You're actually so mean." "Turnabout is fair play." "Don't you feel terrible abusing poor, innocent me?" "Nope. Come over here."
His pants had hit the floor during that exchange. Milly tried to turn to crawl away a little, but Max caught her by the hips and pulled her to his lap. His legs were holding hers slightly open, and she was too weak to push past them. She was very aware of the difference in strength, of his legs and arms being three times the size of hers, of the feeling of his chest and abs against her back. That was until she felt something hot and stiff grind against her lower lips, and her soul nearly left her body.
"Um, maybe-" Max shut her up with a kiss. It tasted like the whiskey he drinks all the time. The flavor of oak wood and alcohol was taking over her senses. Two thin pieces of fabric were all that was between them, and the thought of that put butterflies a little bit below her stomach. When Max pulled away, Millicent caught herself wanting him to come back. His hands traced her waist, then slipped below, touching her soft spots.
"Now you're making a mess." "Huh?" A visible wet spot had appeared on both of their underwear. "Well, time to get rid of these." Max slid her panties down her legs, leaving Millicent in only her thigh-high stockings. One piece of fabric between them left.
In a smooth motion, Max caught Millicent's wrists again, pushing her to her knees and pulling her arms between her legs, leaving her kneeling with her face in the pillows. She felt its warmth nearby her leg. She felt her back arch instinctively and her insides start clenching and settling, ready for whatever he wanted.
Her body was begging for him, and he knew it. He dug around inside her with his fingers a little, pulling her juices out and making her drip into her own hands below her, and then spanking her. It was warm and humiliating. She couldn't even stifle her whimpers.
"I like those sounds you're making." Millicent thought her heart was going to either stop or explode. Just after praising her, he stuffed the tip of his shaft into her. It was already stretching her out, but he grabbed the back of her head to hold her in place and thrust all the way inside her in one go.
Millicent's consciousness left in an instant. Suddenly, she was floating on clouds, wrapped in the soft embrace of nothingness. She wondered for a moment if she had died instantly and gone to heaven, but Max's voice pulled her back to reality. "Wow, what a mess. I don't remember you doing this with the drugs. Masochistic little nympho." Millicent tried to process what happened. Her arms were soaked, and her princess parts were dripping, with Max still deep inside her. Everything beneath her ribcage was twitching and spasming.
She managed to connect the dots and put together that she had sprayed everywhere just before Max wrapped his arm around her neck, lifting her up in a headlock. She grabbed his arms, but she was even weaker than normal. The pressure on her neck seemed to coax her uterus into more spasms, finally making her aware of the sounds she was making. These weren't the soft moans of a drugged-up Milly trying to seduce Max. This was more like a small animal being hit with a shovel.
With every part of her body begging for him, Max was happy to oblige, thrusting in and out, giving her cervix kisses. Millicent could feel him pushing her tummy out from the inside and forcing her arch even deeper. Every thrust knocked her in and out of consciousness. There was a bulge stretching her skin that traveled from the bottom of her groin up to her stomach and back again. Was he getting faster? His chokehold was definitely getting tighter. Some passing thought about the duration of her birth control tried to make it through her head, but the warm sensation pumping into her stomach caused her body to spasm and spray again, obliterating any other thought.
Max released her, letting her fall forward. Feeling him pull out, feeling her walls cling to every inch that left, it sent an electric sensation all over her brain. Hitting the bed caused her spasms to return. Something warm leaked out of her, but she didn't get to dwell on it as he rolled her over. Max looked like a monster of some kind, his muscles rippled beneath his skin. Even more monstrous, that rod of his didn't calm down at all. He had just come, his baby batter was still leaking from her, but it was still throbbing.
Max didn't waste any time, grabbing her legs and pushing her knees up near her ears. It pulled her lower back up in the air, presenting herself to him. She had thought he was nonverbal, fully changed into an animal just pleasuring himself with her body, but he grabbed her head and made her look at her own slit. "Get a real good look, alright?"
She saw everything as he pushed into her again. What little spray she had left in her hit the bottom of his abs, sparkling as it dripped back onto her. That bulge rolled back up to her stomach, and when he pulled back, her walls stretched out from inside her a little bit, clinging to him. He proceeded to piston her mercilessly from this position, with her knees over his shoulders. When he started speeding up and getting even bigger, Max pulled Millicent in for a kiss. That sealed her fate. As he replaced everything that had leaked out of her earlier while kissing her like he couldn't live without her, Millicent fell in love. She didn't care what he did or what he will do. She would be anything he wanted. She was fine with whatever.
He pulled out again, dripping a mixture of their fluids onto her stomach. Millicent couldn't resist anything he did to her, but she didn't want to anymore. Whatever kind of control she wanted before didn't matter, she just wanted Max to love her and keep her. Speaking of him, where was Max? Millicent looked over to her left to see Max drinking a bottled water. He finished it nearly instantly and began walking back over towards the bed. He was getting hard again. It seemed she would be in for a very long night.
Millicent woke up first. She didn't want to move immedeately, there were still sore and sensitive spots. Last night's "punishment" wasn't like the drug-fueled rampages, those were just animals acting on chemically-enhanced instinct. This time he was being really mean about it. Millicent could at least guide an animal a little bit. A fully conscious Max doing whatever he wanted with her made her feel helpless. And scared. Eventually she just gave up entirely. Her fate for that night was to be a doll that accepted her punishment.
She rolled over to hug the brute. Giving up was thrilling. Maybe she was just a natural at being a victim. Even though while it happened, it felt like she was safe, that he liked her too much to really kill her, it also felt like he was trying to break her, too, repeatedly pushing her past the point of her mind going blank, only to mercilessly pull her back into reality to do it again.
It clicked for her, lying there in his bed: she had gotten her wish. Max liked her. Maybe even loved her. The experience was harrowing, he couldn't really be wielded like she did any other denizen of the Freeport, and the confirmation may have ruined her preferences in bed forever, but she got what she had wished for. For some reason, the chorus of voices that spoke when she was hallucinating from the artifact came to mind. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Well, she wouldn't be needing those drugs anymore.
I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.
"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"
