The line that inspired me"…That or she has a prociolvity for sexual bondage. Scientific observation, not a judgment, some of my fondest memories are…"
I couldn't bring myself to have him beating Peter's mother, because we're going to find out who she is eventually (I hope) and I don't want to have to delete this cause it makes no sence. THIS STORY IS GRAPHIC. It is NOT for children, teens, or immature young adults. 18+
This fic is set as a backround to a Fringe episode that does not exist where "The Gang" has to hide out for a little while. Walter says he knows someone who owes him a favor who is not realated to any of the shit going on. After Peter asks to make sure that this person isn't dead, Walter admits that it is someone he met when he was at the hospital.
Walter nodded at the door to apartment 703. "This is it" he said.
Peter knocked at the door and waited. 17 seconds later, a girl in her mid-twenties wearing a black corset, jeans and a sweater, opened the door, and looked and Peter confused. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"Clara", Walter said, looking and her and smiling like one greets someone they've known for their whole life.
The girl looked at him, astounded. "Walter? Wow, you look great!" she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. "After I got fired I never thought I'd see you again…who are your friends?" she smiled.
"This is my son, Peter and his friend, Agent Dunham"
She extended her hand to Olivia, "It's very nice to meet you" then she turned to Peter, "You're exactly how he described you" she smiled and opened her door wider, "Come on in, come on in, what are you doing here?"
"We just need somewhere to stay for a night or two, if it's too much trouble…" Olivia trailed off in her professional, businesslike voice.
"No, no not too much trouble at all, c'mon I'll make you some wicked good coffee or tea or hot chocolate or whatever you want, come in, sit, sit" she filled up a kettle and put it on the stove.
Olivia and Peter sat down as instructed, but Walter stood awkwardly. "Clara, I never asked you- never got a chance to ask you if I was the reason you-you got fired"
"No, it wasn't you, I got caught with someone else, it was stupid, and I lost my damn license, but in some respects it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I started my own business. Hence the baking vanilla smell" she gestured toward the oven. "They didn't know I was sick before so they were not pleased and they fired me faster than I imagined possible"
"Clara used to be a CNA on the night shift at St. Claire's" Walter stuttered, and grinned as if getting to the good part of the story "She's also a maschochist nymphomaniac"
"Oh goodie" said Peter. "Spending the next 48 hours with two mentally unstable people instead of one"
"I'm not mentally unstable, I'm not going to rape you in your sleep." She teased. "You're not my type"
"I'm getting it under control, though, trying to keep off meds but staying out of situations with people I could seduce" she looked meaningfully at Walter "I do miss a man's touch though"
"I know I am going to regret asking this" Peter grunted, pulling the fold out couch into a sleeping position. "But how exactly did you know Clara?"
"I told you, she worked at 's"
Olivia was crouched on the floor, filling up an inflatable mattress. "I think Peter is trying to ask why she owes you a favor"
"Oh, that" Walter said, suddenly becoming very interested in pawing through the duffel bag for his pajamas. "I kept her secrets"
"What secrets? I know you said she was a nym—oh… oh, tell me you didn't. Please, Walter, she's even younger than me" Peter let out a noise of disgust.
"I provided her with what she needed, it was a medial obligation" Walter said defensively. I'm going to go change" Walter gripped his pajamas so hard his knuckles turned white. After spending 17 years with no privacy whatsoever, he thought he would never be embarrassed again, and was now ill-equipped to deal with it.
Clara accosted him on his way to the bathroom. "Walter, are you tired?"
"Not very" he replied "Why do you ask?"
"Wait till your son falls asleep, he doesn't need to know, then come upstairs" she smiled and winked suggestively.
"I don't know if its such a good idea…" Walter stuttered.
"Please. It's been like 2 weeks since I hast had sex, and you were the best I ever had, but I hardly remember what it was like any more" She begged. "And it would be awesome to have sex with you while I wasn't wearing scrubs. I'll even let you do that thing you wanted to try with the cutting" she waited a second but could see Walter was uncomfortable. "It's ok. The offer is open if you want to take it" she kissed him on the cheek, walked into her room and shut the door.
The door opened, letting a sliver of light into the room, which reflected off the wrist and ankle cuffs that were lining the edge of the bed with several instruments for causing pain. "I see you were expecting me" Walter said.
"Best to be prepared" Clara said, sitting up. She looked at him with pleading in her eyes. "Please hurt me"
Walter shut the door and, in the glow of her computer's lights studied her layout of instruments, and the workspace. "Quite a collection you have here. How much time do we have?"
"More than we ever had before. I'd say about two hours, but that's flexible, I don't have much to do tomorrow"
"Take your clothes off" Walter said, picking up a cloth blindfold. He watched her take of her clothes; her skin looked like white silk in the dark. He started at her ankles, and ran his fingers all along her body before reaching her head and tying the blindfold on her. He guided her over to the bedpost and put her hands on it. "brace yourself" he whispered. He picked up an instrument with a handle and long leather straps coming from it. Clara's breath quickened, her heart rate accelerated, she could only hear the movement, but no see what he had picked up. Walter raisedthe flogger to shoulder night and swung with a moderate amount of force, hitting her shoulders and instantly causing a pink sting.
She lurched forward a little on impact and gasped, but stayed still, gripping on the bedpost. Her nether regions began to warm and tighten up. The next swing hit her upper thighs, harder this time, and she squeezed the bedpost trying to transfer her pain to the wood. It was slow and thuddy at first. Another hit her lower back, even harder, she let out a little "uhh" and he kept going, randomly alternating spots, getting harder and faster with each swing, keeping just one step ahead of where she wanted him to be. Her breath got faster, keeping in time with him. After a few minutes her back was a bright red, with bruising on her ass and thighs. When she could really not stand anymore, she cried out "please" just once, and he stopped. Walter knew that this girl knew her limits, and wouldn't push them unless she wanted him too. He took her hands and guided her to the edge of her bed.
"Kneel" he commanded. She obeyed, she had little need for more than one word. He sat on the bed next to her and stroked her hair, awkwardly at first, but evolving into smooth strokes, she rested her head on his leg. She was still shaking a little from the beating, and he waited until she stopped to continue. When she was ready, he pulled her back up to standing and took a moment to admire his work. Her once silky, smooth skin on her back had been stained with red and bruise. He ran a single finger down her back hard to make the red parts split with a white line only for a moment, she shivered and winced when he reached the brusing. She'd taken a good amount, but beating is only one kind of pain. Denial of pleasure is something totally different and sinister, also something they had never had time for in the past. He took of her blindfold. "Clear off the bed and lie faceup on the center"
Humans are fascinating creatures, Walter thought. Putting pressure on one area can cause something totally unrelated to happen. There is a spot on the neck to cut off oxygen to the brain temporally and make them pass out. Ears are linked to sex organs. You can get a drug-like high from limiting oxygen to the brain without cutting it off. Gently touching an area of sensitive skin makes you laugh. But even though humans have defaults, there are still anomalies… humans like her that perceive pain and pleasure, that need to be controlled to feel safe. He could offer control and pain in exchange for the pleasure, and a change to play with an anomaly.
Clara shoved the pillows and blankets on the floor and smoothed out the fitted sheet. She knew Walter liked a clean workspace. She lied on the bed slightly toward her right, allowing him a little more space on her left, she also knew that he was older and didn't want him to hurt himself. Never had she been with anyone more precise or that appreciated the control over her like he did. It seemed like everything he did was calculated, and he knew exactly what everything he did would do, but he still reveled the reaction. She waited, wincing only slightly at the pain from lying on her bruises.
The ankle cuffs came first, spreading her legs toward the lower corners of the bed. Then the wrists, above her head and linked together. Walter crouched between her legs. He pulled her labia aside and was presently surprised at how wet she already was. He licked at her clit, alternating between slow and purposeful and rapid flicking.
She panted, her eyes struggling to stay open from so much pleasure. "Please… please… you know I cant come like that"
"I know" he smirked. Very little was as frustrating to most people but pleasurable to her as being in pleasure, but unable to orgasm. He stood up and stretched his back, crouching for only a few minutes already hurt. For a few seconds he though about how old he was, and how many people would see this as taking advantage of a young, sick, girl.
He was brought back to earth by her begging eyes. He took his clothes off and moved on top of her, but the second her eyes changed to gleam with hope, he moved to the side, and picked up a scalpel.
She let out a shuttering breath, scared but intrigued. This was a game they had not played before. No sharp objects in the hospital. Tazers, yes, but no sharp things. He dragged it gently across her skin to allay her fears, but when he cut into her upper arm, she jumped. "ow!" she cried out, she struggled but could not move away.
"Shhhh shhh" he said soothingly. He put the knife aside and moved onto her. "If you orgasm without permission, I'm going to crop you." He said, referencing one of the last unused instruments, a riding crop. She nodded. He slid into her easily, and thrusted about twice before her face went blank and her eyes rolled back and her lungs emitted a noise that was quite clear what it indicated.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" she whimpered "Please don't—ow!" the riding crop smacked against her thigh, instantly leaving raised white skin with red around it like a glow.
"You won't do it again" Walter said, smirking.
"For-that-I-might" she managed to get out between his thrusts.
Walter kept pounding into her, causing wave after wave of denied pleasure. He nipped at her chest and her arms, sucking to leave bruises or biting to leave teeth marks, almost like marking his territory. She begged for permission to orgasm but didn't receive it, Walter could see it was taking all of her strength to keep from losing control, so he took the control away. He put his thumb on one side of her throat and his index finger on the other and pushed, this limited the oxygen going to her brain. She struggled to breathe, trying to control herself at first but then her impulses took over, and she lost control, the orgasm came first, followed by a giddy wave of lightheadedness. She smiled and giggled for about 5 seconds that felt like eternity, but was jolted back by the riding crop whistling through the air and hitting her other thigh.
Clara's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, sir" she said respectfully. Walter felt his own orgasm coming and pumped into her harder. "Please-please!" she cried out.
"Yes" he finally replied in a husky voice as he closed his eyes and let it take him. She moaned and arched her back up and she could only see white while her body took it's leave. Walter collapsed next to her on the bed, panting. "Do you have any advil?"
It took Clara almost a full minute to reply, she still hadn't come down from her cloud of happiness. "Yes, I'll get it if you let me go, sir."
Walter unhooked her and she put on her clothes to go downstairs. "Oh, and some tea and cookies if you have it"
She smiled at him and walked downstairs.
Peter rolled over without opening his eyes "You were awfully quiet last night Walter" he said, but when there was no reply, he jumped up. "Walter?" he called out. Olivia woke up and rubbed her eyes groggily. "Walter!!"
Peter dashed up the stairs, did a quick knock before throwing open Clara's door. "Clara have you seen—"
"Shhhh, our hostess is still asleep" Walter tucked a blanket over her gently and climbed out of bed. "I think she got worn out last night" he climbed out of bed. "What do you say we go to IHop and let her rest? I could go for a cherry crepe"
Peter looked at him and shook his head. "Sure, Walter, whatever you say."
"Listen, he is batshit insane, so much so he cant be in the world without a custodian, who is is son who is older than me"
"Right now might not be the best time" Clara objected.
"We just need a few minutes, Peter pushed past her and nearly tripped over the 2 foot bag of mostly water. Walter looked at it, looked at Clara and said
"You have a child? How old is she?"
"She's about a year and a half now."
"What's her name?" asked Olivia. The toddler walked to Olivia and said "Herro. Up?" and Olivia picked her up.
"Julia….Bishop"
The three of them looked at her.
"Well, she was born about 9 or 10 months after I last saw you folks. I was hoping you'd stop by again, Walter, but no such luck"
"How can you raise a child with your condition?" Walter asked, conserned.
"I'm taking pills now, I didn't want to, because they totally kill my sex drive and I don't feel like myself anymore, but its good for her"
Her hands were bound to the top of the bed in the medical handcuffs from the nurses station.