Ratchet woke up in a daze. Ugh, had he really fallen asleep while working again? He promised Clank he would stop doing that. He went to stretch, but found his movement extremely limited. Had he fallen asleep under Aphelion? He gradually became aware of the dull ache that thrumbed in his head. His eyes fluttered open. He was met with a dimly lit and unrecognizable room. Suddenly the memory of the events of the last couple hours came crashing down on him. At least, he figured it was a couple hours ago, in actuality he had no idea how long he had been out. He blinked around the room. Even in little light, there didn't seem to be a whole lot to look at, just concrete walls and a door on either side of him. He looked down at his legs, which kneeled on the cold concrete floor. What sent the chill up his spine though, was that his legs were bare. His overalls were missing. He was sitting in only his t-shirt and boxer briefs. Ratchet tried to move his legs out from underneath himself, but they seemed to be chained together. This action caused him to oddly swing. He turned his attention upwards now, to his arms. They were chained together over his head. He moved his wrists, testing their integrity, before pulling at the chain, testing that too. Hand over hand, climbing up it, he was able to use it to pull himself up into a somewhat standing position. It was nice being off the floor, but he couldn't maintain the posture for too long. The shackles around his ankles were secured so the tops of his feet were pressed firmly against the ground. His ankles strained at the awkward angle this position forced him in. He held it just long enough to try and get some feeling back into his arms, before his muscles began to ache in protest. He eased himself back down. It only seemed to do more bad than good though. Before, his arms had been numb from being stretched over his head. Now that he had been able to get some circulation back into them, they prickled uncomfortably with pins and needles.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps, before the door to his left was opened. He knew who the tall figure was, before they stepped out into the light.

"Look who's finally awake." The Smuggler chuckled.

Ratchet growled at him. He didn't have his parrot with him this time, which he was thankful for. He didn't need the annoying thing taunting and threatening him further.

Ratchet continued to snarl at the Smuggler, as he approached him. He had no idea what he had in store for him. He had some ideas though, torture and extortion being just a few. His heart pounded heavy in his chest, as the Smuggler crouched down to meet him. He reached down and cradled Ratchet's chin in his hand, turning it to look at him head on. Ratchet clenched his hands, preparing for pain, or whatever unpleasant thing the villain surely had in store for him. The Smuggler chuckled at Ratchet's tense and angry disposition, and brought his face in close.

He kissed him.

Ratchet's eyes went wide.

He squirmed in his binds, trying to get the creep off of him. The Smuggler grabbed the back of his head, holding him in place and deepening the kiss. His tongue dipped in, brushing up against his teeth, seeking to gain entry into his mouth. Ratchet did open his mouth, but only to bite down on the organ infiltrating his space. The Smuggler seemed to suddenly realize he would try this, and managed to dart his tongue back out at the last second. Ratchet only managed to clamp down on the very end of it. The Smuggler disengaged, before turning his head and spat the bloody mixture of saliva on the ground.

"Feisty little one ain'tcha?" He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Without further warning, he backhanded the hero.

"Don't even think about trying that again, or I'll rip out every last one of your teeth."

Ratchet righted his head after receiving the blow. He spat at the Smuggler. It landed on his cheek. He took immense satisfaction in seeing the other flinch. It was a dumb and reckless thing to do, but Ratchet didn't care. He wouldn't give in so easily. A hand was suddenly around his throat.

"Very fiesty I see." The Smuggler growled. "Good, that'll make it more fun to break you in."

The Smuggler's other hand went under his shirt and began to play across his chest.

"Too bad you ain't a woman, would have made things a little nicer."

Ratchet swallowed thickly. So that's where he intended to take this. If the kiss before hadn't been enough evidence, now he confirmed it.

"You're sick." Ratchet croaked angrily.

"Oh yeah?" The Smuggler purred.

He slowly slid his hand down Ratchet's stomach, circled around his crotch, before grabbing at it roughly. Ratchet bit his lip, holding back a noise.

"Guess that makes two of us."

Ratchet sucked in a breath. He was semi-hard. Despite the fear and anger that wormed through him like a poison, his body was betraying him. He tried to chalk the reaction up to fear, but it didn't matter. He felt sick, disgusted, and ashamed, yet they'd only just begun. Ratchet closed his eyes and tried to detach himself from what was happening. He tried to focus on better times, on his friends. Would he ever see them again? He just needed to hang on, he would get out of this. He would find a way out of this maniac's clutches.

Chapter 3 image: i imgur com 8FSFahn png