Plaything

Disclaimer: I don't own Ben 10 and/or Ben 10: Alien Force and/or Ben 10: Ultimate Alien and/or any and/or all concepts and/or characters. They are copyrighted to Man of Action and Cartoon Network Studios. I am a mere Fanfiction author. With far too much time on her hands and no social life.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Inspired by dustingforsugar's "A Little Sickness" and my own dark and rather disturbing mind. Enjoy.

Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst

Part One: Eleven
"Urrghhh…" Gwen came to life, her head throbbing. All she really remembered was an electrical buzz and then a slight electrical sensation coursing through her. Wherever she was now was pitch black and rather cold. She tried moving her arms, finding nothing broken, but they only moved so far before stopping. And then she felt the cuffs around her wrists. Her blood went cold; she tried moving her legs only to find them similarly restrained. She tried powering up and ripping herself from her chains but she found that her powers had been disabled. The panic set in, making her heart pound. So she began to struggle. She didn't know how long she struggled; only that doing so had caused her wrists to go raw and most probably bleed, when someone came, turned the lights on and chuckled sinisterly at her predicament.

She calmed, looking up against the suddenly bright lights, about to tell him off when she caught sight of his eyes.

She gulped, "Eleven?" The fear came rushing back; this wasn't a good situation. She was depowered, chained up, with a sociopath.

Kevin Eleven laughed cruelly, "That's right Sweet-Cheeks. I'm back…" he walked closer, squatting down to grab at her wrist, rubbing his thumb over the bloody marks.

"Why?" she demanded. Kevin was on medication to keep his evil self from emerging.

"Isn't obvious?" he chuckled again. Her eyes widened as it dawned on her and she redoubled her effort to escape.

"That's right," he encouraged her excitedly, "fight me. Fight to escape…"

"Why me?" she demanded, "Why now? Why like this?"

"You've earned it," he replied seriously, "parading around in that damned skirt, driving us mad. But he's too chicken-shit to do anything about it. So I'm taking things into my own hands."

The tears began to flow, running down her checks; he changed, looking almost tender and apologetic as he wiped the tears away, whispering, "Shhhh, don't cry. Not this time. You'll enjoy this, I promise…" when she didn't stop crying, though really it was more like she couldn't, he sighed and leaned in to kiss her.

At first it was loving, tender, and passionate and thus made the tears stop, or at least slow. And then he bit her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood and make her yelp. He pulled back, smirking as he sampled her blood. Her blood tasted sweeter than his own; he didn't know if this tidbit meant anything other than trivia.

He then produced a box-cutter and began cutting away her clothes, making sure to nick her every so often even though she stayed perfectly still. He left her bra and underwear intact, for now.

Goosebumps came to her skin; a reaction resulting from a mix of fear, nervousness, and the cold of the room. She also flushed, her entire body taking on a slight red tint. She couldn't hide herself, her arms and legs didn't have the range of freedom to do so, and so shook like a leaf under his gaze.

He reached forward and touched her pale skin with his callused fingers, causing her to gasp. He smirked at her, "See I told you you'd like it."

And then he paused, brought a small remote from his pocket, and clicked a button. She began to move, the chains restraining her arms and legs pulling her up into a spread eagle standing position on the wall. He stood up as well, moving close to her as to nuzzle her neck and push his groin to her region. He heard her take a sharp inhale of breath and grinned against her, nipping her neck hard enough to make a mark.

"Don't—stop!" she cried out, trying to wriggle away from his mouth.

"Whatever you say Gwen." He chuckled deeply. He knew what she had really meant but the phrasing gave him a loophole.

Her heart was racing and she wanted to kick herself for phrasing her demand like she had. She had been trying to say, "Don't do that! Stop!" but what came out really did sound like an entreaty for more. Apparently the logical part of her was being bound, gagged, and tossed aside.

He pressed himself to her again and she was mortified to find her hips trying to press back. But she had no grounding to support her as she did so so it was a rather weak attempt. But he felt it and rewarded her by rubbing against her once again as he reached behind her with the box cutter to cut her bra away while making sure there was a bleeding scratch.

Once the main strap was sliced through he attacked the shoulder straps, nicking her indiscriminately. She only made more and deeper marks by wriggling against the blade. He couldn't blame her. He knew the steel was cold; he had purposely put into the freezer the night before. He hadn't told her how long exactly he had been free.

For months he had sat back and let that fool Levin control their body, plotting this very act and merely waiting for his chance. The medication had been slowly losing its effect on them, he had been waiting for his chance and it had finally come. He wasn't going to waste it.

He put his finger to her bruising pulse point and was pleased to feel her heart hammering away. He picked her chin up to make her look him in the eyes. It was not fear he found there, not anymore at least, but pure and lustful desire.

He chuckled gutturally again, repeating "I told you you'd like it."

She pulled her head from his grasp, looking away abashedly, almost shamefully. This was wrong but she was getting off on it. What was wrong with her? He clucked disapprovingly, pulling her by the chin to where she had to face him, 'It's impolite to avert your eyes Sweet-cheeks…especially when I'm doing my best to turn you on…"

And it was then that she understood; this entire 'torture' set-up was only fore-play; this entire set-up was what he found exciting and he was merely trying to get her to willingly play his game. A quick survey told her that he had not really injured her. She was cut up only a little but the burning, stinging sensation was oddly pleasing; she had no broken bones, no severe bruising other than the bite mark on her neck…In fact, when talking about Eleven, he was being positively gentle. She saw it in his eyes; interest, hope, love. He needed her to consent; he wasn't going to force her.

She made up her mind quickly and smiled, nodding.

He took this as the go ahead it was and so reached out to touch her breast, teasing and twisting the nipple into a pebbled peak before giving its' twin the same treatment.

The sensation of his weather worn hands manipulating the soft, previously untouched by man, skin was like many things rough and ragged, scraping and scratching. But she fought to arch into his hands and was embarrassed to feel moisture dripping down her leg; that her underwear wear soaked. She was throbbing, every nerve in her activated and overly sensitive to anything.

He somehow sensed this and lowered a hand to her inner thin, stroking it slowly. She quivered and shook as he inched closer and closer to her entrance. But each time she thought he would touch her he retreated back to the beginning and started all over again. It was quite awhile before he actually touched her. He traced her lips, smirking as she pressed against him again. He must've decided something because he left her and dropped his pants to reveal that he had gone commando. He was fully stiffened, ready for the act.

He clicked another button on that small remote and the chains restraining her legs fell from her as the ones holding her arms lengthened enough to let her stand on her own power. But on instinct she grabbed the chains and lifted herself enough to wrap her legs about his waist and brush herself against him. Before she knew it he had his hands at the base of her spine and entered her, breaking her wall. She cried out, more from shock than pain, and locked him into place.

"Relax." He commanded her, his hands moving to her hips and gripping them hard enough to leave bruises. Surprisingly that did make her loosen up, allowing him to withdraw before slamming back in. And so he set a rough rhythm. And, even though she yelped each time he entered her, she found she liked the strange mixture of both pain and pleasure he was giving her, As he thrust into her his mouth was once again on her neck, nipping and biting, bruising and bleeding her pale body.

She began to squeeze him and so he redoubled his effort, knowing that she was close and that he wasn't far behind. Her eyes clenched shut, the sensations she was experiencing were making her head spin.

And then, she didn't quite know what had been the last straw, she climaxed; losing control of her vocal cords and calling his name. She felt him meet his end, his essence flooding into her. The logical side of her, having ungagged herself, began shrieking that they hadn't used any form of protection.

But, honestly, Gwen was both too satisfied and too tired to really care. Her legs fell from around him as he withdrew, letting her hang limply by her chains. She was sore and blood still dripped from the various cuts.

She then heard the horrified inhale.