Born of the Facebook RPG. Decided to portray one of the great fetishes of this fandom. Sexy Raph bondage. Girls like seeing the poor guy bloodied and chained up. Took a few hints from the many 'smexy' Raph pics up at deviant art. There are some really good ones. He seems to have a lot of talented and crushy fangirls, which is good for the rest of us because we get really cool pictures. As an aside; I've gotten tired of seeing them captured and trembling in fear, crying for their brothers. Grow a pair, you guys.
I've been informed that readers may take Raph's Care Bear cuddling and knitting to much to heart. But do not worry. This is meant as an exercise in opposites. To juxtopose his sexy manliness. So this is meant for humor's sake. Don't worry, ladies. He's just as butch as ever.
It was just another day. Another day in the life of Hamato Raphael. Nothing really out of the ordinary.
Blood leaked down Raph's forehead and burned in his eyes. Or maybe that was the sweat. The chains attached to his wrists held his arms out at his sides. It wasn't the most graceful position, but fairly comfortable. He leaned forward and the blood ran into a new course on his skin and dripped onto the ash covered floor. His bandanna hung around his neck, damp from the steam and heat and tickled perturbingly.
It was some kind of factory. Pipes ran all over as far as he could see and the guards' boots echoed on the catwalk overhead. Three of them. Middle size. Heavy footsteps. Probably armed with guns.
Chains. Why was it always chains? Did he give off a "come chain me" kind of vibe?
He looked up at the clouded glass windows, some broken with age. He was in a brick pit and the chains descended from the ceiling on a pulley. The chains attached to the wall behind him with only enough slack to keep him from sitting down. He'd pulled with all his considerable weight. Nothing happened. Big fucking waste of time.
Hot. Really hot. Sweat ran down his arms and sides mingling with the blood from the attack. Not bad. Just a few deep gashes. Nothing new. A gash on his head that dripped red all over his face and a few on his arms. One on his collar bone.
And his belt was gone. His sais too. No weapons. He was naked without them. Didn't matter. He could break necks just as well with his hands.
Presuming there would be a neck to break. If they just left him hanging there, it wouldn't do him much good. He wanted someone to come in the room. He hated impotently waiting and he knew the purpose of this waiting. He wasn't in control. He was on their timetable. They might work him in after the three o'clock meeting with shareholders. Maybe leave him there until he died.
But thankfully the door in the side of the brick pit opened. Out stepped a woman. At first all details of her physical appearance and intent were obscured by the belt and sais in her hands and his mind flared into a red hot possessive rage. Nobody touched his weapons. He was more attached to his weapons than his own genitalia. She tossed them on the floor with a thud that reverberated off the metal walls.
"They sent a girl?" he said, his voice raspy from the heat. Puffs of steam rose from a nearby valve with a hiss. "You touch me or my weapons again…"
"Shut up," she said. A scrawny little blond in a suit. Looked like she was there for a job interview. "I'm in charge down here. What's your name again? Ralph?"
"Who are you? I want to know the right name to call out when you're hurting me." Flirting with his torturer? At least it was new. Broke the monotony of torture a little. That was the thing about torture. Boring. You'd think that prolonged and strategic pain would at least be interesting. He admired her hips as she bent down to pull out a sai from his belt. At least the scenery would be pleasing this time. Not that it mattered. She would still die when he broke the restraints.
"You know why you're here?" she asked as she tapped it in her palm like a school teacher.
He shrugged and the chains rattled. "Figured I must've won a contest or something." His voice was clearer now and echoed in the factory. "Like a paid vacation."
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. "You aren't very funny, you know. You have a family right? They must be really worried. Or imagine how worried they'll be when we mail your fingers to them. Why don't you give me an address?"
So that was it. Just another person trying to find the lair so they could capture his brothers. Typical. Why didn't they ever want something out of him? It was always about somebody else. The torture might seem justified then.
The door creaked on its rusted hinges again and a Colonel Sanders look-a-like limped in the room. Raph wondered how he kept that white suit clean in this place. You could get cancer by rubbing up on the rusty walls. "How do you like Crystal?" he asked. "She's our most popular in the torture department. Our hostages ask for her by name."
"Yeah, fuck you," he said lazily.
Crystal giggled like a school girl.
Colonel Sanders said, "Ah, she likes you. Maybe she'll go easy on you. Or you could just tell us the location of your secret lab. Make it a lot easier."
"Secret lab? Oh, so you want…" Then he shut his mouth tightly. Stupid. They wanted Don. They wanted something from the lab. Probably one of those weird things he found in the landfill last week. They had a company name on them. Leo ordered him to put them back because they looked really important and whenever Don found important looking gadgets lying around then one of them ended up shot or stabbed or in another dimension. But he insisted on figuring out what it was first. Raph reckoned it was either a teleportation device or a magical waffle iron and he was coldly excused from the lab.
"I'm missing a very special weapon. It has the power to transfer energy from one area of the universe to another and this will enable me to summon an army…"
"I knew it!"
Colonel Sander glowered at the interruption and tapped his cane impatiently on the blackened tile, sending a debris cloud that Raph reckoned would give him lung cancer. Another puff of steam shot into the atmosphere. And Raph growled slightly at the pressure of the water in the air. "I'm so tired of you fucking nut jobs. I'm going to kill you both a little harder than usual."
Colonel Sanders twirled his white mustache. Crystal bounced on her heels, Raph's sai still in her hand. Colonel Sanders said, "So either tell us where it is, mutant, or you'll be killed and all that. Tortured first. The killing part isn't the ultimate threat. It's the torment leading up to that point."
Raph rattled on his chains to make a wordless statement about his thoughts on the subject. Little trains of sweat ran down his arms with the movement. "You can spare me the orientation. I get the drill. Well, I ain't giving up anything to you. Let's get going, Crystal."
Colonel Sanders said, "That's it. I knew you'd ask for her. That's why I keep her around. Have fun. Try not to enjoy yourself too much, Raphael."
She rolled her eyes.
Crystal ran her hand down Raph's stomach, leaning into him. She liked to feel on him. At least the average torturer didn't feel you up while they drilled you for information. Raph wondered why not. It was very effective. Every time her hand migrated between his legs he bit his tongue to resist the urge to cry out the location of the device.
"How do we feel?" she asked, with a coquettish tone as if they were on a date. He pulled his weight away from her. She'd hit him with a tazer and cut on him with a few sharp things and then burned him with a furnace lighter. So it hadn't been very bad so far. "Oh, don't be like that."
"I feel like some bitch has been driving glass into my skin for an hour. Pretty good, actually. You know, you're a cute little sadist. Must make it nice to have something to look forward to when you go to work."
Then she pulled out his sai again. She liked to hold it and wave it around when she asked questions. Pretty useless questions. What's your favorite color? Ever watch Nascar? Who do you think will win the World Series?
She ran the tip of the sai down his stomach. She liked the slow stuff and he knew that if his weapon found its way into his stomach, she would bore a hole through him gradually for hours. He preferred being stabbed quickly to being stabbed slowly over the course of a day.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
He looked away, staring at the mismatched brickwork in the pit wall. It was easier to endure when quiet. That was why she tried to get him to talk. Break his concentration. And she pressed herself up against him again.
This time he felt something interesting and it wasn't her perky breasts. Why hadn't he thought of it before?
"You know," he said, his voice so gravelly that it barely made sense, making sure to aim his hot and probably stinky breath on her neck, assuming she would like it. "I never had such a hot captor."
It wasn't enough to stop her from driving the point of his sai into this stomach and he ground his teeth. He never showed pain. Never. He leered forward, growling ferociously. She jumped back a step and giggled. "You're so scary," she said.
"DO THAT AGAIN AND I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF, BITCH!"
"Oh?" She wiped the blood on the tip onto her jacket. "How? Going to scream at me to death?"
He was tired of it. It was cute at first. Over it now. She was just another sick psycho employed by some power hungry dictator wannabe. Cute figure and big blue eyes or not.
"You won't hurt me," she said as if this were really obvious. "How would you do it, even if you could? You can't move."
He leered forward as far as he could, unable to fight off the smile of anticipation. "Why don't you come over and find out?"
She didn't hesitate one second. Cocky. Crystal the Torturer stepped right up to him, her fingers caressing his lower plastron. Extremely tired of that now. It sent pleasant shivers up and down and in all directions and that made his head spin with delirious anger. He shook his head to clear it out. But that wasn't necessary when she bore her finger into the hole made by his sai. That cleared it up.
Then he made his move. His carefully planned move. He leaned forward as far as he could, slowly, until his face was against her chest. His nose and mouth touched her skin and slid down until he could feel her breasts on either side of his face. She didn't lean back. Probably too surprised. Either that or she enjoyed it. Maybe both. Seemed like something a psycho would enjoy. Then he felt the warm metal lodged in the elastic of her bra and closed his teeth around it.
He whipped his head back suddenly and brought it forward quickly, the blood and sweat flooding into his eyes and his skull collided with hers. She landed at his feet in pile of blond hair and tailored suit.
"Stupid bitch," he muttered as he turned the key over in his teeth with his tongue so that he could stick it in the manacle. Now he just had to fight his way out of here. Easy.
"What happened to you?" Don asked as Raph held on to the doorway, clutching the bloody hole in his abdomen. Blood dripped down his body and he smelled like a moldy gym shoe. Don wrinkled up his nose and backed away a few steps.
"Got tortured again." He untied his belt and let it fall to the floor where it landed.
"What's up with the smell? You smell like somebody's arm pit. And you usually stink, but this is worse."
Raph laughed and put Don in a headlock, forcing his head into the stink under his arm. "You ever get tortured by a hot girl?" he asked, bending down to see in Don's face.
Leo passed them, a book in his hand. "Does Karai count?" he settled on the couch with his legs on the old crates they glued together to form a coffee table.
"No!" Mikey said. He held up a ladle to emphasize his point as he cooked eight things at once.
"Then no."
"Let me tell you…" Raph said. He released Don, who tripped away gagging dramatically. Raph sat next to Leo and laid back, his head resting in Leo's lap, knowing it would annoy him. "It's much nicer than being tortured by Bishop."
"Fascinating," Leo muttered, turning a page.
Raph sniffed the air. Something about torture made him hungry. Maybe everything made him hungry. Leo draped his arm over Raph's chest and fiddled with his wounds. He shrugged, unimpressed with the damage and patted his plastron a few times to show the extent of his sympathy.
Don dragged a box of old videotapes out of a cupboard. "What's so much nicer about it? You're still all bloodied up."
Raph tweaked Leo's beak as he read, hoping to get a rise out of him. "Yeah, but you don't get to stick your face between Bishop's silky boobs, do you?"
Leo snapped the book shut and slapped Raph's face with it. "You're making this up."
"What movie do we want to watch?" Don asked. He piled the dirty VHS tapes into a dangerous tower. "We haven't seen any of these for years. There are like ten tapes devoted to nothing but Power Rangers. Bambi. Transformers. Care Bears…"
"Let's watch that. I haven't seen that in ages," Raph said yawning. "Mind if I stay here, Fearless?" He landed on the floor on his face.
"Are we watching Care Bears!" Mikey said in a squeaky voice that hadn't issued from his mouth since pubescence. "Go for it! Come on! I know every line of that movie. Raphie, do you still have Tenderheart Bear?"
"Damn straight." He headed to his bedroom in pursuit of the elusive beast and found it in his closet nestled under a rusty barbell, a few abandoned engine parts and a pile of used silver wear that he'd hidden in his closet during his midnight feasts and forgotten to return to the kitchen.
"Let me see it," Leo said, reaching for it over the back of the couch.
"MINE!" Raph screamed and ran to the other side of the room. "Touch it and die, motherfuckers." He settled down in an arm chair with his prisoner on his lap. Dirty and musty. It used to be brown, but had turned dark grey.
Mikey licked a spoon and said, "We don't have mothers."
"The tape is pretty dirty. I don't know if it'll play," Don said. "That really sucks because I'm all built up now. If I don't see me some Care Bears, it'll ruin my whole day."
Raph held Tenderheart Bear a few inches in the air and inspected a spot of fresh blood on his fur. "Maybe I should patch these up so I don't bleed on the furniture. I'm going to work on my socks. Where they at?"
A ball of yarn and knitting needles flew through the air from the direction of the couch and Raph caught it with his free hand. "I dropped some stitches, it looks like. Nobody touch this when I'm not around."
The Care Bear theme played and Raph remembered every note instantly. It was good and comfortable and ignited dozens of other memories that lay dormant from childhood. "Remember those Popples Mikey had?"
"I lost 'em," Mikey said, checking the oven while watching the television at the same time. "Don put a cherry bomb in one and blew it up. He murdered it."
Don giggled and rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist. "I needed to execute a prisoner to make a point."
"Why did we always have girls' toys?" Leo laid the book on his knees, but didn't read it. "We didn't have many trucks or things. I guess boys break their toys faster than girls. Or better than girls? Raph, you're Grumpy Bear!" Leo exclaimed suddenly.
He pulled a stitch tighter and said, "Sure, asswipe."
"Asshole," Leo said with a faint smile.
Raph's blue yarn tangled into a knot. "Dickhead."
Leo's smirk widened. "You're a fucking pussy."
Don sighed. "Let's just watch this instead of out cussing each other. You guys swear like sailors."
So Hamato Raphael, perpetual hostage and warrior spent the rest of his evening knitting and watching The Care Bear Movie, later eating a twelve course meal at 2am. He held Tenderheart Bear in his arm and huddled under a blanket with Mikey, watching Power Rangers and reciting nearly every line together. Then he fell asleep listening to Don and Leo debate about the duality of human nature, wondering if it applied to them.