AN: Well, Well! Here I am again! Greetings y'all!
Just to make everything clear, what follows is an adaptation of a role play game between me and my friend known on the internet as "Estuprador" (which means "Rapist"- unsettling, I know. But he's a nice guy, I can assure!). We've played a year ago on August/2015.
That was the first time I had an idea of Wesker and Claire first time sex and how would that happen. So I asked him to join me in a game where he plays Wesker's role and I play Claire's.
It served to me, as inspiration to what would become my first Fanfiction (That one entitled "The Real Thing" which some of you may have read already.).
These drabbles that follows are what came out of it. -Well, they're actually too long to be considered drabbles, but I couldn't come up with a better definition, so let it be-
Originally written in Brazilian Portuguese, I myself made the translation to English. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.
Hope you guys like it!
Just to add, the content of some of these drabbles can be extremely disturbing. It's definitely for mature audiences.
I'll try to label each drabble with warnings.
With nothing else to add, I truly hope you enjoy your reading.
My best Regards,
Mandy Boo/ Sofistinha/ Amanda Del Duque.
||| WARNING: Explicit Content on this Chapter.
FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
It contains kidnapping, abuse, sexual and emotional violence |||
Game 1- Kidnapping.
Restless night, disturbing nightmares... Claire moved frantically in her sleep as she relived the horrors of Raccoon City, Rockfort, Antarctica, Harvardville... all mingled together with the figure of the diabolical red-eye villain chasing after her. Breathless, she was fleeing the horde of undead, it was Raccoon. Suddenly, cold, very cold, everything went dark ...Antarctica? The cold air hurt her lungs and she was forced to slow down the rhythm of her steps, steam was coming out of her mouth. How everything hurts! ...and then she stumbled against the huge, austere, malignant dark figure of him ...
"Wesker!" - She screamed and tried to run away from him... But in a flash, he was there, clutching her throat, depriving Claire of much needed air. That usual smirk playing at the corner of his lips... red eyes glowing behind the dark shades. And then He started to beat her, to throw her around like she weighed nothing. Claire felt pain in her muscles, bones, limbs ... and that terrible pain of humiliation ... As he made her feel like nothing and swore revenge to her brother, saying he would use her as sore instrument, as a mean of causing nothing but pain.
"Chris! No, no, no! Leave Chris alone!" -She mutters in sleep.
She was wrapped in the bed sheets, sweat soaked sheets. Her cheeks red, her face and her whole body burning... She was hallucinating due to fever. Her eyes moved under closed eyelids, REM.
She hardly knew that she would soon become as monstrous as the villain in her nightmares.
-/-
When Claire woke up, she felt the air thick, like warm liquid. Her body was covered in sweat, making the sheets stick to her body, not refreshing her at all. Her throat was dry and sore, due her breathing through her mouth all night. Thanks to the anxiety from that damned nightmare, she felt completely drained of energy. Her room was completely dark and humid, making her feel claustrophobic and stuffy. Her body was heavy, as if she couldn't move.
Suddenly, she heard a sound coming from the living room. Steady, low and rhythmical, as if it was already there a long time, but only now she paid attention. It was the sound of rain outside, and the movement of the blinds being shaken by the stormy and howling wind. It felt very unsettling, very strange to her, because it's not like the times facing Umbrella's shit, had leave her relaxed enough to the point of affording to leave open windows. Something was off.
Claire was now trying to compose herself. She felt desperate, like she had yet to wake up from a nightmare. She felt she couldn't move at all, but she wasn't sure if it was due to her weakness or her sudden fear. All her muscles and limbs seemed made of gello and were in such pain, she couldn't control it. She felt headache, cold, she had this dry and chesty cough. Claire was desperate to call Chris, but she couldn't, she just couldn't. She had no strength. Her breathing was noisy and erratic. She felt so fucking hot and cold at the same time.
"Calm down Claire. Everything's fine. There's nothing to worry about. You're just feeling sick and that goofy of a brother had forgotten the windows opened." -she mentally told herself.
But that howling wind was driving her nuts! How would her brother leave it open? Why would he? She was feeling on the verge of becoming hysterical. She couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong, really really wrong.
Claire tried to move her head.
- ARRGH-
It hurts so much. She was gathering all her strength, but she wasn't sure if it was mental or physical strength she was trying to summon. Finally with a lot of effort her head turned to her right side.
-Uff!-
and then she tried to move her body. Weakened she fell to the floor with a thud. Reaching for her Glock hidden behind the bed headboard, she tried to steady herself up, using the bed as support.
"Easy... Easy your breathing, Claire... Come on... You can do it! Go to Chris!"
With trembling legs, Claire stood up the better she could, and using the walls for support, she reached for the door. She opened it slowly, peeking at the hall, gun in hand.
"Empty"-... Nothing seemed out of place.
On the way to the living room, she passed through Chris's room, and as the door was slightly opened, she could see the bulky figure lazily spread across the bed peacefully snoring out loud.
"Dumbass..."
Moving slowly, her vision was kinda blurry. She couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that something really, really bad was about to happen. Once she descended the last flight of stairs, she scanned the room and saw that the blind curtains were opened indeed and the floor were now completely soaked. Other than that, nothing seemed out of place.
With a sigh, Claire lowered her weapon and weakly reached for the windows, closing them.
As she was slowly turning on her heels to head back to her room, she felt this nausea and this strong headache, making her dizzy. Both of her hands went to cradle her heavy head. She felt the cold metal of her gun against her feverish temples.
-Urgh! it hurts so fucking much!-
Everything became completely bleary, and when her vision faded , she fell to the floor. Before she completely passed out, she was sure to be seeing those eyes. Those red vicious eyes.
- Wes..Wesker..- She whispered before her face hit the wet and cold floor.
In fact, those two red dots she saw were the Devil's eyes indeed. As Claire fell unconscious to the floor, a lightning bolt flashed through the window, lighting up the room, showing the outline of that figure from her nightmares.
All clad in black: shades, combat boots, turtleneck, trousers, gloves and a black long overcoat, Wesker was standing all mighty at the opposite side of the room, hidden in the shadows.
-Redfield...- and his lips upturned into a grin. A vicious grin.
Wesker couldn't believe his own luck. He was ready to prevent her movements, to prevent an attack, to disarm and immobilize, to take her by brutal force. But his target simply started to convulse and fell unconscious on the floor. He knew exactly what was happening. T-Veronica had awakened. He should hurry to stabilize her condition before the mutation process started. He went to her, cradling her in his arms and lifted her from the wet floor. Ironically, from his mere touch, her seizure seized. Wesker looked at her with curiosity, just as a scientist studying an experiment. Then he was caught by the alluring scent coming from her skin, from her sweat... He seemed to be hypnotized for a moment, drawn to her by that scent. His eyes scanned her whole body with some kind of lust written over it. He brought her closer, her body pressed against his torso, as he was now unconsciously sniffing her. He brushed the edge of his nose against her hair, descending to her face... He even let his eyes close for a moment to fully concentrate...
To her everything was pitch-black, completely darkness surrounded her. Again, his figure was around like a predator, and although she couldn't see him, she could definitely feel him all over and around. Just like if he was everything. Claire felt exposed. She couldn't tell if she was naked or not, but she felt completely exposed as she had never been before; like she was completely opened to him. Body and soul, as if he could see right through her. She felt hypnotized by those red eyes, even if she wasn't seeing it. She felt afraid. Not of death, not of him. But of that feeling of belonging she couldn't control. It was like this crazy attraction, like she wanted to fuse with him, to become his, to become him, to become one.
She was sweating, and that sweat was carrying a scent, an alluring scent; a bittersweet one acting as chemical cue to trigger a response from him.
Albert was drawn back to reality once she moved in his arms, having this look of confusion on her features. He then realized that Christopher could bark in anytime and become quite an inconvenience to him. Adjusting the feverish body of Claire into his arms, he went back to the windows and after opening them again he easily jumped off, landing graciously just like a cat would. The rain outside soaked them both, and refreshed Claire's burning body, making her relax somehow. Only for the moment, that smell seemed less appealing to him, making him able to focus on his plan again, nearly forgetting that strange and strong attraction he felt moments ago.
-/-
Claire slowly woke up from a deep sleep. She couldn't recall if she had dreamed or not. But she seemed baffled by waking up. At first she didn't dare to open her eyes. She just focused on the noises and feelings. She could still hear the heavy rain and the howling wind, although it seemed quite distant now. Claire felt the rush of cold air touch her skin, and shivered. She then felt something hot and wet touching the bare skin of inner thigh, leaving a wet and cold trail all along moving up to her groin. Her body was slowly responding to all that stimuli. Was she naked?
Alarmed, she suddenly opened her eyes. Unfamiliar surroundings, it wasn't her living room ceiling she was facing. She was laid on a cold hospital bed in a large and pale room. Her hands were restrained by her wrists above her head, attached to the medical bed. Medical equipment was displayed all over the place. Adjusting her vision, her eyes descended to the source of that hot and bothered feeling.
Albert Wesker had one of her ankles pinned upwards, and was licking and kissing her inner thigh. Slow and soft motions of his wet tongue against her skin...moving up...and up...
"What the ..." she couldn't finish her train of thoughts, as she was now feeling overwhelmed by the sensations. Everywhere his lips and hands touched, she felt something like a burning sensation, but not a painful one. It was like to feel the weight and heat of him running through her body. Sensitivity was the word to define it. She felt everything intensely. Claire wanted to keep her eyes opened. But everything was so bright, and with closed eyes she could focus on how hot and wet that tongue was painfully walking up through her body ... she wanted to force him to quickly reach the focus of her agony ... wanted to feel him all the way insi...
" to feel what?" She opened her eyes quickly again, releasing suffered and noisy air through her mouth, as she haven't even felt she was holding her breath. Claire was panting.
"Albert Wesker!" – She wanted to understand what the hell was happening, but it was so difficult to concentrate, to conjure any will power and fight. And he seemed not even realize she had woken up ... and then he licked so close... so so close to her groin... that she almost fainted with the pleasure she felt... She let a loud groan escape her lips without even realizing it, while arching her back and instinctively propping her hips up forward, moving it against the face of the Machiavellian scientist.
- Wesker! -
Albert already had his overcoat off. His shirt dark black, like a second skin making clear the outline of muscles of his perfect body, built by genetic engineering. The sleeves stopped before his elbows. One gloved hand was holding her ankle up, making a little scratch to her skin. His other hand, was ungloved and she could feel his touch through her other leg, groping and massaging slowly her fair skin. When he felt her body trembling and she stammer his name, he stopped his tongue, but still maintained it on her body, while his face turned up to glance at her like a predator. He had no sunglasses on, making his red eyes settle on her face. Still staring at her, and seeing the response of her hips, with indifference he just moved forward. His tongue seemed even thicker when she felt it touch her perineum. It then rose, brushing at her entrance, lower lips of her womanhood, and moved more and more up until it finally pressed against her clit. He pulled her ankle back, making her whole body slid down towards him, and then his lips kissed her womanhood in a noisy sound just as if he was drinking from her. Wesker's tongue licked her lower lips again and then started to penetrate her with it, molding his tongue to her inner core, all soft and wet.
Claire was drugged from her own pheromones, her sexual arousal numbed her nervous system to such an extent that she didn't feel as much pain, doubt, regret, shame — only pleasure. She seemed in some kind of trance.
Claire's hands felt dormant already from the restraints preventing her blood circulation. Her body burned with his touch. She panted. When his tongue briefly explored the center of her pleasure, her hips followed instinctively moving up / down, pressing the hot and soft tongue of the man against her clitoris. Electrical waves roamed her whole body, she felt everything. She moaned low, the sound coming from her throat, almost a purr. Her chest rose and fell with force and speed. Her back was arched. She was sweating, that odor coming out of her pores filled the place...
And then his mouth met hers ... and she moaned between their lips, giving way to his tongue. She felt the sweet taste of herself on his saliva. Her legs involuntary laced his waist. An embrace so strong, so possessive, that very little kept them from complete fusion. She kept her eyes closed. And her heart was pounding against his chest, and his against hers. And she snaked her hips, wanting ... no ... needing to feel him. She could ... feel the protruding member trapped against the cloth of his pants ... the offending garment the only thing separating them ... They needed to get rid of any barrier. They would belong together... that was a must. A primitive sound came from the back of her throat, almost like a snarl, when even without pulling away from the kiss; Wesker slightly separated the bodies so that his hands could reach the zipper of his damned pants.
Would he be the personification of a Greek God of vengeance and ...lust? ... He surely looked like one...
Albert hasn't closed his eyes for a single moment, observing her intensely. His tongue invaded her mouth, moving slowly, brushing against hers. When he finally stopped the kiss, a trail of wet saliva connected their mouths still. Wesker wiped his mouth with his gloved fist, staring at her with an air of indifference on his face. An artificial one, one he needed a lot of effort to maintain.
- You have something that I want inside your body... and I will go all the way in to search for it, Redfield .-
He then eased the zipper of his pants, and the completely hardened member jumped out of it. It was white, long, thick, with prominent veins in all its extension, and the head had this almost red wine color.
- And I can now unite business with pleasure, and in the process, humiliate you to avenge myself from each and every problem your unfortunate family had caused me... -
That was his rationalization of the ordeal. A sad excuse he found for himself, for having this intense desire to possess her. But what was strange even to him, was the way that he seemed to be in control, but feeling like he had no control at all. Wesker was feeling totally anxious to taste her, to possess her; and it was so freaking foreign to him. It was not like he was a torturer or a master, but a type of slave playing the dominating role.
She could hear his voice deep in the back of her mind. But she did not seem to register his words. The tone of his voice was what burned her.
His hardened member was warm and settled near Claire's groin. He moved his hip a bit while pulling her towards himself, and rubbed in false as if he was about to penetrate her, but did not, and they felt his manhood stretch and rub the wet lips of her sex, rubbing its head on her clit. Wesker repeated the movement a few times, as if masturbating them both, using his member. His breath quickened, and he finally recoiled and advanced his hips forcefully, causing his glan to reach her entrance and then he pushed himself further into her. The way he sank himself all the way inside of her was intense...all the way in to the hilt...and then he was just stepping back without coming out and then going forward again,- it all seemed like a perpetual motion of just burying himself within her, as if his member were forever long, and her insides too.
Claire instinctively meandered slowly her body against him, rubbing her chest against his, narrowing the contact of their loins to increase the force with which her legs clung to him, bringing him closer and closer and deeper inside. Claire seemed to be eager for them to merge. Her Insides were burning, hot and throbbing, waiting for him to fill her completely.
She was silent between their kisses. She sucked his lips, his tongue. He rubbed his nose against hers ...
Who was Wesker? Who was Claire? ... They weren't there.
Her legs hugged him as hard as she could. Her hot and sweaty body pressed against him and a cadence of hip movements, settling him all the way within her core, feeling the spasms of her insides wriggling to squeeze his manhood strongly within herself. The moan she gave between their kisses was something indescribable, a mix of something like an intense pain and an intense orgasmic pleasure. Her hips moved frantically just as he moved his. Their movements met up, and they kept brushing and beating frantically against each other. She released sonorous air, snorting ... incoherent words of forgiveness and begging, leaving as whispers from her mouth. She also licked him. Licked his face's sweat, the saliva from his mouth, the flesh of his neck ... She bit him...
Her hands where nearly purplish from the lack of blood circulation, she wanted to free herself from the restraints and touch his body. So she started to tug at it, trying to break them.
Wesker's arms wrapped her body in a tight embrace. His shirt was soft to the touch against her nipples, and they rubbed it several times as he went up and down on her while pumping in and out. His breath was hot, and tickled her face. He runs away from the kiss at some point, just to stretch his tongue out and brush it over her lips, her cheek to follow, licking her skin, feeling the taste of her sweat and raindrops that bathed them earlier. The tip of his nose gently caressing her face all the while.
His movements like a slam, making her whole body and the bed tremble every time he pulled and pushed. She felt every inch of him slipping in and out and shaking inside of her, all the way to her uterus, in moves that bordered on despair, as if he wished to go further in than it was possible.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't pretend anymore, he just couldn't find excuses or justifications anymore. He just wanted to stick and bury himself inside of Claire, while feeling her taste until he couldn't stand anymore.
For a long while, Wesker just kept penetrating her, lost in his movements and the sensation of their tongues licking each other.
She felt shock waves with every thrust and her insides squeezed him in response. Trying as she could to contain that anxiety, those tremors, that will to come... She now sucked and bit his earlobe, breathing hot and sound in his ear.
When Claire bit his earlobe, his eyes glowed, as if he had just awakened. He freed himself from her tight leg embrace, using a hand palmed on her chest, he pressed her against the gurney, and upped his torso, getting up and off of her, making his manhood get out of her with a pop-sound. With ease and inhuman speed, Wesker tore the restraints apart, freeing her and forcefully flipped Claire around to lie down on her stomach.
One of his hands lay on the back of her head, pushing it hard against the medical bed, smashing her face against it. While his other hand made its way to her hips, pulling her towards him, upping her rear a bit. Now her feet touched the floor while her torso was pressed against the bed.
- I'm the one in charge here! You heard me, Redfield? I'm in control!-
His voice was severe and intimidating, but in truth he was trying to convince himself more than herself. That was the reason why he had her now into such submissive position. He then guided himself inside of her again with a forceful thrust, taking her hard from behind. He closed his eyes, relishing at the sound of his groin hitting frantically her buttcheeks.
To her, everything from him getting off of her, turning her around and guiding himself inside again; happened so fast, it seemed in a flash, that she haven't had the time to register. A strangled cry was everything that came out of her, until her moans and whispers began again. Wesker was taking her like this predator animal, this alpha male, so strong and powerful, so patronizing, holding her so compliant in that position; she closed her eyes to enjoy it. Her smell and moans were permeating the room. She could feel her own juices running down her legs ... she was so wet. Her hair sticking on her back, neck and face ... she was covered in sweat. A strong pressure building inside herself that she felt about to explode. She was pleading now... just wasn't sure what for ...
- ...plea...Ah...pleeas..Oh my...pleease...-
Albert was still holding her in place, burying her face on the thin mattress, while vigorously pumping in and out, in and out of her. One of his hands was tightly clutching at her waist, digging his fingers painfully on her flesh. He then lowered his torso towards her, sticking out his tongue, to savor the skin of her back. Wesker couldn't hold himself anymore. He couldn't stand too long without tasting her, as much as he wanted to deny it. His tongue moved slowly, very different from his hips; he barely stepped back, to just push back in frantically, as a mating dog, but with precision and confidence. His manhood throbbed inside Claire, making her feel its head in her womb, pounding against it, rubbing and shaking. His groin sweat mingled with her thigh's, and his lips opened and closed on her skin, sucking it, in almost painful hickeys, using teeth and tongue, leaving red angry marks all over her back, her sides and shoulders.
Claire felt every place where his tongue ran, tingle. She was shaking and trembling. Her insides were twisting, fastening and loosening its tight clutch at his manhood, holding and releasing it with every thrust. The sound of their bodies colliding was making her dizzy. It was very hard to breathe, and she called him in sighs. Her legs were weak and trembling. Her upper body rested on the gurney. Her nails clung to the mattress, ripping its paper wraps. Her eyes were closed tight. And everything she saw were those red eyes at the back of her mind... and that feeling of being one with them ... be an extension of them ... And she stifled a cry, biting (or trying to) at the hospital cot mattress.
His breathing became increasingly noisy, and he stopped his hickey assaults leaving behind huge dark marks. He returns to stand erect, focusing only on penetrate her. His hand released its grip at her head, settling on her hip with his other hand now, pulling her to him to meet his thrusts.
The pressure on her insides was so very strong, and the more he pumped her up, the stronger the pressure become. She could feel every inch of him in and out, feel how hot his manhood was, how warm was the liquid that slid down her legs, her own fluids. Claire felt her core completely tense up, almost as strong as a cramp and then a numb and feverish sensation. He accelerated the movement of his hips, dropping muffled gasps when the first jets of semen splashed inside her. Her uterus were now completely flooded with his sperm. That warm liquid, heating and easing up his movements that didn't stop even after cuming. Claire was so full of his semen, that with each thrust, his semen leaked out of her, running down her thighs mixed with her own juices. His movements continued to decline until they finally stopped. His member finally stopped throbbing inside of her. Her cheeks were very red, numb and scratched, her legs somehow dormant, labored breathing ... her body exhausted and her mind at breaking point. She felt she was going to pass out. Eyes closed, in seconds, she relived every feeling she just lived, having a second orgasm, manifested as deep, audible sigh and the uncontrollably shake of her hips, which made his semi-rigid manhood, suddenly come out with that pop-sound and a torrent of semen spill from inside her, sliding between legs all the way to the floor.
Wesker took slightly distance to look at her, to admire the mess he made: Unmoving, with her rear slightly up, their fluids dripping from her core sliding all the way down her cotton white thighs, all sweaty, heavily breathing... totally and completely exposed to him. He smirked.
Claire felt extremely and completely drained of her energy... falling instantly asleep.
Wesker then walks slowly around the medical bed, going to where her head lays. His gloved hand touched her wet red hair stuck all over her backside and face with sweat, almost in a caress to then become a jerk, not too strong, but a firm tug. Her face turned up to look sleepily at his glowing red eyes. Now that he ejaculated, he seemed back to his colder self ... more like himself.
- Well Redfield ... We have much work ahead to retrieve this veronica virus inside your body. We better get started...But first... –
All calm and collected, still holding her by her hair, he practically glued his body to the bed, making his still semi-rigid member covered with their fluids touch her face, rubbing it up her lips.
- ... You must clean up this mess you have made...-
His voice was low but firm. He then became quiet again, staring at her, as he prompt his member's head forward into her mouth, seeking her tongue.
She didn't seem to register what was going on. Seeing everything as if in a blurry movie ... sound itself seemed muffled. She looked drugged, as if she had been tranquilized. She was looking sleepily at those red eyes ... "So beautiful ... so exotic .." – she thought at the back of her mind and groggily smiled, as her eyes were again slowly closing and his voice getting far away far away... Claire's soft and loose mouth, allowed entrance to his manhood easily. Half asleep, her mouth had a lot of saliva. A nice inviting interior. Her eyes moved in REM. Wesker settled his hardness all the way into her mouth 'til the back of her throat, and Claire involuntarily let out a gagging sound, but not actually choking. She was semi conscious. When he forced almost to the hilt, he felt the pressure deep in her throat squeeze him, as she thus tensed those muscles in reflex, causing him to hit the end of her throat. At this point her tongue would automatically stick out of her wide open mouth to make more room for him and avoid choking herself, instinctively massaging the nerve at the base of the scientist's hardness. Wesker pumped a bit, and seeing her unresponsive, he just got himself out of her mouth, letting out a frustrated snarl, zipping his trousers again and left off, locking up sleeping Claire in the room.
-/-
They were not aware that in that extremely hot, humid environment...of her infected womb...a couple of genetically superior twins were being nurtured and developed. Ashford legacy was being rebuilt.