At nineteen, Elias awakens in a sterile, unfamiliar facility. His memories are scattered, his body subdued by medication. Faceless staff, restrained wrists to ankles, he question the purpose of his confinement. As unsettling routines unfold, Elias must search for the truth of his existence and the forces shaping.
This is a stand alone story with no planned follow up.
Elias’s eyes opened, though it didn’t feel voluntary. He was being woken.
Above him stretched a ceiling that pulsed gently, smooth and white like bone polished by centuries of wind. The glow bathing him was constant, but wrong, no source, no bulbs, just light that existed the way a smell might.
Ambient, invasive. The room buzzed with a sound more felt than heard, like a frequency tuned for someone else's ears.
Elias' body refused him.
Heavy. Disconnected. As if gravity had redrawn itself with thicker lines just beneath his skin. He tried to move, or thought he did. The signal went out, but nothing answered. A quiet dread coiled in his stomach, slow and deliberate. Not terror. Just the edge of curiosity turned sour.
His mouth tasted of iron.
Faint, but unmistakable. A ferrous slickness that reminded him of nosebleeds and the back end of nightmares. He blinked, once, twice, then tried to swallow.
That’s when he felt it: something foreign. Lodged in his throat, firm and smooth, not painful, but undeniably present. It didn’t choke him; it anchored him.
Then the realization came like a whisper, not in words but in pressure.
He was being stabilized. Not for survival. For experimentation.
With a muffled groan, he tried to lift his head, only to feel the cold, sticky tape that bound his wrists to his ankles leaving his ass hole exposed and available.
The tension grew as he realized his predicament. His heart raced, hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal desperate to break free. The room spun around him, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him as the reality of his situation settled in.
Elias tried to speak although the ball gag sat firmly behind his teeth preventing speech. A tape went around his head and held the gag in place
Three shadowy figures emerged into his blurry vision, their faces obscured by medical masks and caps. They approached with a sense of casualness, their footsteps echoing off the cold, sterile walls.
One of them pulled out an ‘optiNode’, a networked imaging sensor that logged and shared data instantly, the digital screen lighting up the gloomy room with a harsh, unnatural glow. The flash blinded Elias momentarily, and he felt his body jerk in response.
The figures talked in hushed tones, their words slithering together in a language Elias couldn't quite understand. A phase variance away from audibility. They had been here before, they were comfortable.
A quiet hum throbbed beneath Elias’s ears..
He couldn’t pinpoint when the device had been attached. It hadn’t pierced or punctured, there were no needles, no sharp edges. It had simply grown into place, as if summoned by a signal deep within his cells. A slender matrix of semi-organic filaments now webbed gently across his torso, syncing in rhythmic pulses to the beat of his heart.
It wasn’t painful. It was invasive in a different way, intimate.
The system didn’t monitor him so much as inhabit him. Its nodes glowed softly where they made contact, adapting their temperature, shape, even texture with unnerving precision. Every breath, every tremor of thought was registered, interpreted, and responded to with quiet efficiency.
He wasn't restrained by it. He was managed.
Where once needles would have punctured veins, now translucent conduits traced his vascular pathways, gently mimicking and rerouting his bioelectrical signals. Elias could feel his body recalibrating itself under the guidance of something infinitely smarter than human medicine, a consciousness rooted not in empathy, but optimization.
One strand brushed inside his internal carotid artery a smooth tendril that retracted immediately, then redeployed with more care, refining its contact with the brain.
It was learning him. The system wasn’t merely watching. It was tuning him.
Somewhere in the core of this strange process, Elias began to sense dialogue, not spoken, not visual, but ambient. As if the interface itself was dreaming alongside him, forming a connection far beyond patient and machine. He was a vessel. A collaborator. A biological structure being guided toward purpose.
The fear grew in his gut, a cold, hard knot that seemed to spread through his veins. He struggled against the crude bonds that bound his wrists to his ankles, desperation giving him a momentary burst of strength. It was no use.
The drug cocktail in his system rendered him as helpless as a ragdoll. The visitors in the room laughed at his struggles, the sound echoing in his ears and filling him with a mix of anger and despair.
The figures bent down, and he felt something cold and invasive being pushed into his ass, the sensation sending a shockwave of pain and violation through his body.
Elias tried to scream, but the ball gag muffled the sound to a mere gargle. The fear grew as he realized they were inserting single-use, disposable tubes a few centimetres into his ass. They were managing the waste that would inevitably be created by the prolonged experimentation.
He felt the pressure of fluid build inside him and then release and then they cleaned him up. The area around his ass was cleaned using sanitary wipes, and harsh smelling antiseptics.
They roughly pulled the tubes out. Wiping him.
As they worked, they spoke to the unseen men on the monitor link, their words punctuated by the occasional laugh.
The figures finished managing Elias, making his ass presentable, and one of them reached up to give the camera a positive sign before they turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind them.
The coldness under his back seeped into his skin as he lay there, bound and exposed, the only sounds the steady drip of fluid and the mocking laughter that seemed to follow him into the abyss of his thoughts.
Elias's mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. How did he get here? Who were these figures? His thoughts grew hazy as the sedative took full effect, and he drifted in and out of consciousness.
Each time he woke, the panic would surge again, only to be smothered by the thick blanket of the drug. The pain from his ass was constant, a dull throb that reminded him of his vulnerability.
He wasn't sure how long he laid there, the hours stretching into what felt like days. Sometimes the room would spin, the lights flickering like a bad movie reel.
Other times, it would be eerily still, and the silence would press down on him like a heavy weight, making him feel like he was the last person on Earth.
Occasionally, he would hear muffled sounds from outside, the murmur of distant voices, the clank of metal, and the occasional scream that would make his blood run cold.
Eventually, the door opened again, and two of the figures returned, their faces concealed by their masks. They moved with an air of boredom, as if his care plan was just another item on their to-do list.
One of them checked his pulse, while the other lifted Elias’ head before flushing the sedative tube with more water. The liquid trickled through the sedative line and down his throat, bringing with it a brief surge of energy before his eyes rolled back again and he descended into the darkness of the drug-induced haze.
A masked male entered the room, he was naked and what looked like a cock was fully erect, his eyes gleaming through the fog of the sedatives. He didn't speak, just moved closer and began to push himself inside Elias without preamble or care. It was brutal, raw and it happened regularly. The sound of laughter could be heard as the man penetrated Elias.
The pain was intense, and Elias's body convulsed as he was penetrated again, without the mercy of numbing gel. The male's hands gripped his hips, holding him in place as he thrust in deeper, his grunts growing louder with each movement.
The naked man took his time, moving Elias into various positions with a cold, calculated precision that spoke of experience. Elias’ ass in the air, like a wanton offering. The man wanted to be seen, to be monitored by his associates.
Each new angle brought a fresh wave of pain and humiliation that crashed over Elias like a wave. The male's strokes grew faster, harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Elias could feel himself being used, his body nothing more than a receptacle for this stranger's sperm.
The male's breath grew rapid, his primal grunts turning into a panting snarl as he claimed Elias's body with a ferocity that seemed to have no end.
The male mated Elias relentlessly, his cock stretching Elias's ass to its limits, pushing deeper with each thrust and into his guts. The pain was a living, breathing entity, writhing within him, and yet, there was something else, a spark of unwelcome pleasure that grew despite his fear.
Elias’ body was responding, and he popped a boner betraying him in the worst way possible. He could feel the man's warmth, his power, and it was intoxicating.
The male's hips smacked against his ass, his huge bull-balls slapping against Elias’ thighs as he drove himself in, over and over, with a brutal, animalistic rhythm. The man stiffened and groaned, releasing his seed inside Elias.
The room grew quiet, except for the sound of their heavy breathing. The male pulled out quickly, leaving Elias feeling both empty and full.
He could feel the warmth of the cum trickling down his thighs, a sticky reminder of what he had just endured. The man left the room, not bothering to look at Elias as he left. The coldness of his departure was almost more degrading than the act itself.
Elias lay there, his body trembling with a mix of pain, fear, and a strange, unwanted arousal. He could feel the semen pooling between his cheeks, a stark reminder of his powerlessness.
Three shadowy figures emerged into his blurry vision, their faces obscured by medical masks and caps. They approached with a sense of casualness, their footsteps echoing off the cold, sterile walls.
Elias tried to scream, but the ball gag muffled the sound to a mere gargle. The fear grew as he realized they were inserting tubes into his ass to deal with the waste. He felt the tension build inside him and then release and then they cleaned him up.
