Third: Temptation


"To fall so
fast, so hidden
in a dark net of
lust I've strung"


By the time the second month had rolled around, Pharaoh had rounded up a handful of the more aggressive Robot Masters into a bit of a cliché which he lead himself, with Magnet as his right-hand man. He would delegate any punishments depending on who the punished was and what they had done to anger Wily. No severe beatings or rapings occurred in Skull Fortress without Pharaoh's say so. The first rule to be heeded at all time for the Robot Masters was to never second-guess Wily's authority. The second rule was to never cross Pharaoh. No matter who it was, some unknown robot or even someone within his own ranks, if they beat someone without Pharaoh's permission, he dealt with them personally, often with Magnet's assistance.

Pharaoh, however much power he swayed over the others, could never outwit Magnet. While Pharaoh had power, Magnet was the brain behind the driving force, grouping them together, preparing the hierarchy, and though Pharaoh was no slouch in the intelligence department either, Magnet was a valuable asset to him. His skills still top notch, as well. It was no secret when Magnet had stopped returning to his own quarters all together, when he was constantly seen down the fourth wing. But no one said a word to when both would rejoin the rest of Skull Fortress in the late afternoon, both tired and weak, no one mentioned anything about the long nights filled with cries of passion. It was understood, it didn't need to be mentioned anymore than that.

The two seemed to hardly ever part company, only when drawn apart by Wily, or for training sessions, but rarely more than that. They were partners in sin, drawing others into their twisted, sick entertainment, willing or otherwise. Thankfully, though, those times were rather rare, only occurring when both were in foul moods or bored, or one in too extreme of either of those moods for the other to quell.

Often times it was Pharaoh that would get in the darker moods, easily annoyed and angered. Magnet took the abuse, generally reveling in it. He was known for his masochistic tendencies, which fell conveniently with Pharaoh's own violent nature. Often times he would berate Magnet for not being aggressive, for caring too much for how the other felt. And Magnet would give him a small, little smile and say nothing, just watch him with knowing eyes, the same quiet air that drove Pharaoh mad with curiosity and frustration. Should it induce the latter, Magnet would often enter the main portion of the fortress with visible bruises or a limp. Whenever anyone asked, he would just smile off their concern, claiming that it felt more pleasurable than it did painful. After awhile, that became a normal occurrence.

And after awhile, Wily began to note the power the two held between them. Keeping the other Robot Masters in line by the mere mention of their names, the two unofficial leaders of the Robot Masters. At first, the thought annoyed him, but quickly grew to be an enjoyment as he watched the two work together, disciplining a wayward robot or otherwise. He gave them his consent, carefully watching their actions as for now all that they did was in Wily's name, reflecting on his decisions. And the group that they led became an extension of Wily's power, strong, overbearing, pushing all under him towards their limits.

But on occasions, one of the members would stumble, and the only ones to protect them from Wily's wrath were Pharaoh and Magnet. Each member, to them, was specially chosen and the loss of that specialized skill crippling the group. And if Wily knew that the two were doing what they could to stop him from fully punishing that member, he either did not cared, or respected them for their will to protect those that trusted in them.

But after a while, the trust and power among each of the members meant nothing. When things begin to fall apart, the whole can not be supported without all its parts. And the fabric which binds the world is bound together tightly. Once it begins to unravel, the rest will follow.

A rumored had begun once that Blues had infiltrated Skull Fortress. The rumor was affirmed when one of the Robot Masters managed to hack into the security net and found Blues on one of the surveillance cameras, purposefully mocking Wily by giving the camera one of his irritating, untouchable smiles.

Soon after, word of Blues possibly putting some virus into one of the regenerators, the machine in which the robots hook up with to for a maintenance check on of their circuits, began to circle around. Along with that of someone accompanying him upon this tryst, though no one else was shown on the camera. Some of the older Robot Masters would whisper a name that could never be dared spoken, saying that he had finally returned. That Shadow had finally cut off all loyalty to Wily and allied himself with Blues.

And because of that, the older Robot Masters began to push, rather subtly at first, against Wily's reign. And though it gave Pharaoh's group much enjoyment, it was also a blatant disrespect for their power and Wily's authority. A disrespect that wasn't very long lived.

In a few days, they were given permission to deal with the one who spoke up most about Shadow, the main instigator of the uproar.


"G-Get off of me." He whimpered, trying his best to seem defiant.

"Oh, come now." Magnet said, leaning down to blow a breath in the other's trembling ear, graze the jaw with his cheek.

But he kept squirming. "Stop it." Quick's voice struggled to become stronger, to be heard. "Get off."

Magnet's grip on Quick's wrists tightened slightly, stifling another cry as they were moved next to his head. "Why would I?"

The other said nothing, his eyes dark, trying to keep the threatening tears at bay.

"If you want," he said, gently kissing the chin, the jaw and neck, "I won't care if you say his name."

The struggle against the stronger robot began once more in earnest. "Get off of me. Get off."

"You know you want it. You've been wanting it for a long time now."

"Stop it..."

"And if you can't have him, at least you can pretend I'm him."

"No..."

"Or, if you'd rather," he brought Quick's hands back down to his waist, straddling him, placing a knee on the back of each hand, "I can make you want it."

The elder turned away as best he could, eyes tightly shut, only crystal liquid slipping from beneath dark lashes. "Don't... please..."

It was always a pleasure to watch Magnet work, really it was one of Pharaoh's favorite pastimes. Everyone in the group could be given permission to rape any given Robot Master, but Flash was the only other one that had skill in it. He tended, though, to make his victim enjoy the punishment, mainly drawing out the release until they were almost mad with passion. Pharaoh himself tended to be plain brutal, looking on for his own self-gratification in the act, destroying the victim's self-esteem and physically beat them. Even when he was being gentle, raping one out of boredom and challenge, he was brutal, though with Magnet it was just for the fact that the red Robot Master enjoyed the pain. And as opposed to the two named before him, Magnet was more of a balance between them. Toying with the victim's mind, hurting them, making them hate and fear what he was going to do, and then, nearing the end, making them yearn for his touch, make them desire, beg for him. And make them despise the fact that they had enjoyed it, hating themselves more than they did him.

And so he watched as Magnet moved over Quick, all liquid lines and tempting hands. It was a privilege to see this, having Magnet perform just for him, so beautifully, so tantalizingly deceptive. For a moment, watching the speedster quake and writhe beneath Magnet's expert touch it seemed more of an act of love than that of mental torture.

And when Magnet refused to go further, refused to take Quick in his entirety, to release him from the sweet strain, he told Quick to beg. There was a whimper and then...

"Please..."

"Please?"

"I... I n-need you..."

"For?"

"T-To..."

"Say it." He clawed playfully at Quick's stomach, teasing as he released just above his hips.

Quick gritted his teeth and for a moment Pharaoh didn't think he would actually say it. "F-Fuck me. Please."

For his reward, Magnet gave him a sweet kiss. "Then say his name."

Quick's eyes snapped open. "...what?"

"Call his name. Say it for me. Act like he's the one doing this to you."

"I-I -- "

"Say his name."

Quick trembled, not wanting to give in. But the lust was growing to the point of breaking, and Magnet wouldn't touch him, would let him touch himself, until he complied. He rubbed his cheek on the floor, hating himself. "Sh-Shadow..." he whimpered, almost too quiet to hear.

"What was that?" Magnet asked, tracing a finger over Quick's hip.

"Shadow..."

"A little louder." A tongue flickered against the over sensitive skin, making the other buckle.

"Sh-Shadow!"

Satisfied, Magnet took him in mouth, running gentle hands over his hips, making him squirm and passion and self-loathing.

Pharaoh watched, following each movement with his mind, each smell and sound wrapping around his senses, aching to join, but staying a passive audience. How they moved together, a dominance encouraging the other, waiting to crush what little confidence he had left as the other wriggled, fighting himself of pleasure and hate... it was beautiful. It made him tense in a wonderful pain, drowning in memories of that sweet mouth around him.

He dully noted when the act had finished, too wrapped in his own heat to notice. Quick curled on the floor, crying at his betrayal and from the pain of the attack as Magnet approached the taller bot. He kissed Pharaoh lightly, letting the mixed taste mingle on Pharaoh's tongue.

"How did I do?" He asked, fingers entwining with those of the darker hand.

"Very well."

"Good." Magnet's red eyes were still hazy with unreleased passion. "Then could I ask a job from you?"

A dark, somehow tender smile graced Pharaoh's lips.

"Perhaps."


They lay entwined, just like so many other nights, the blanket pooled at their feet, dripping onto the floor. Over time the meaning behind their union had changed. It wasn't just a lesson in dominance, to show who conquered whom. Now there was something else that charged them, something else that moved them into the same bed night after night. It was an unnamable draw that bound them to each other, something that made their time together all the more bittersweet, made it painful and lovely.

He watched with dark eyes at the sleeping form beside him, gleaming in sweat and fragrance that could only be his, immutable, intangible, intoxicating. His head curved down so the locks of his hair brush and stuck to the wet surface of the other's shoulder as he watched. He pulled the dark strands from the other's sleeping face, his lips curled into a small smile that he was mouth was not used to consciously making. But he was beautiful. In his sleep, like an angel of sin, one that could never be turned away, awake, like a panther, uncontrollable, but undeniable in his authority.

He ran a weak hand down the open chest, the sweat slicked torso, bruised with kisses and nips. He suddenly remembered the look all their victims gave them as they left, leaving the abused robots to themselves. Hate, disgust and... something else, hidden behind the emotions. Something that said they knew what he didn't. Something that said they were waiting for him to fall.

He sighed, pressing himself against the slack body besides him.

He didn't know if he hadn't fallen already.


Final   |   Fanfiction