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“You’re disgusting, Stone, you know that?”
Stone nods and hums assent.
“And I don’t mean in the normal way that all humans are disgusting, with all their fluids and - eugh.” Robotnik shakes his head like shaking off a bug. “That’s bad enough. But you, Agent Stone. You’ve gone the extra mile.” He bends down, putting his face barely an inch from Stone’s. “You’re filthy.”
This time, Stone moans, and Robotnik shivers.
“Absolutely filthy.”
They’re in the lab, this time, the cameras shut down and the doors sealed air tight. Stone kneels on the floor, the rough concrete cold against his knees. He’s mostly still wearing his pants, but the front has been ripped open to clearly display the gleaming metal cock cage hanging between his thighs. His arms are bound behind his back, forearms neatly clasped together by broad metal manacles. His shirt and jacket are long gone, a shredded pile kicked off to the side, scraps of fabric still clinging around his wrists. His tie is still in place, albeit a little askew. He’s gagged, for now, with a length of rough black fabric tied around his head and crammed into his mouth. The rest of his face is visible, however. Especially his eyes, wide and wet and shining and desperate.
Robotnik grabs Stone by the jaw and turns him, slightly, investigating. “I mean, honestly. Do you have any idea how fucked up you have to be to be into piss? That’s literally repulsive. You are supposed to be repulsed. That’s human waste, Stone.”
Stone whimpers. He can’t speak while he’s gagged, but that’s fine, because all he’d be doing is simpering and pleading anyway. Yes sir, please sir, etc. Robotnik doesn’t mind the begging, but he likes the helpless noises.
“So you know it’s foul, and you know it means you’re a fucked up little pervert. And yet you couldn’t keep your awful fetish to yourself.” He drops Stone’s face and stands up straight again. Stone looks so small down there, all big watery eyes and bare skin. Robotnik could crush him so easily. If he wanted.
Robotnik paces. “No, you had the audacity to share your dirty little secret with me. To waltz in here and tell me, like it’s a perfectly natural and healthy thing to want, that you want me to piss in your mouth.” He scoffs. “And they say I’m insane!” He leans in again, bending at the waist. “At least I don’t want to drink hot piss straight from the source, Agent.”
Stone shakes, from the stress of the position or Robotnik’s words or both. His jaw works as if he’s trying to speak, and a trickle of drool leaks from the corner of his mouth.
Robotnik shrugs. “You’re just the worst. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Another moan.
“Oh, well, when you put it that way,” Robotnik says, “I’m sure I can come up with something.” He walks away again, takes a seat in his command chair, and crosses his long legs. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being,” he says, “and you don’t deserve to live out your sick fantasies.” He strokes his chin. “I wonder if you can be cured. Or at least improved. Maybe we try exposure therapy. Hmm? In vivo flooding. I know you’re not too bright so I’ll go ahead and explain.” He steeples his fingers in his lap.
“It‘s like when Daddy caught you smoking and made you smoke the whole carton. We find some filthy dive with a bad reputation and set you up in the bathroom, all tied up with your mouth open wide. And you can have as much as you want. Does that sound good? Is that what you want?”
Stone shakes his head and says something brief and unintelligible.
Robotnik gets the message. He feigns surprise. “No? It’s not? You don’t want to have dozens of strangers pissing down your throat? You’re a choosy piss slut?”
More attempts at speech. Robotnik doesn’t even pretend to try to decipher it. He knows what Stone’s saying regardless - and, if he’s wrong? It doesn’t matter.
“Oh, no. Of course. You want my piss. On the one hand, I understand. At some point genius is just too irresistible.” Robotnik leans forward, steepling his fingers. “On the other hand…”
He kicks out, connecting with Stone’s chest and sending him to the ground. “You think you deserve anything from me? Hmm? Your sick little obsession with me’s gone too far. The gall! The audacity! The arrogance!”
He stands and grinds his heel in as he speaks. Stone writhes, moaning and wailing.
“You’d be lucky to get my piss, you mongrel. Hell, you’re lucky to get to hear my voice, and be in my presence - I’m surprised you haven’t come from that alone considering what a greedy whore you are.”
Something in Stone’s face shifts, and Robotnik grins.
“No. Really?”
Stone doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay, well. We’re going to play with that delectable little tidbit later. One depraved fantasy at a time, you spoiled little pervert you.”
Robotnik actually stops to make a note about it, pulling up a holoscreen with a gesture and typing it in quickly before swiping it away. He dusts his hands and looks back down at Stone.
“Now, where was I? Ah, yes.” He kneels and yanks Stone up by his hair, dragging him back up onto his knees, and gets right in his face. “I was about to tell you that you’ve caught me in a good mood. See, I’m feeling generous. I mean, you’re a deviant little creep, but you do have your uses. Nobody makes lattes like you. So!” He releases Stone and stands. “I’m not going to punish you. Say, ‘Thank you, Doctor!’”
Stone, half-naked with bruises forming under his skin, makes his best attempt but is once again unable to form a word. Once again, it doesn’t matter.
“In fact, I’m going to make your dreams come true. You’ll have to earn it, of course, and since you can’t make a latte in this position you’ll have to do the only other thing worth keeping you around for.” He crosses his arms, his lip quirked in a cruel smirk.
“Beg.”
Stone still can’t speak; all his attempts at words come out formless, so he has to beg with his eyes. They go wide and desperate, somehow even bigger and richer than before. They pick up every speck of light in the room and sprinkle it across Stone like glitter. There’s a threat of tears suspended in the saline, a weight to his gaze that matches the burdens he wears every day. He can make all the grunts and groans he wants; in the end, it’s his plaintive eyes that break Robotnik’s resolve.
It’s always his eyes.
“Very nice, my sick sycophant.” He doesn’t take off his coat or anything else. He just undoes enough buttons and zippers to reach in and grab himself. For once, he’s actually pleased to find he’s barely half-hard. Good. Let Stone see the evidence of how little he cares.
And Stone does see; he moans and strains at his bonds. Robotnik gives himself a few strokes and shrugs. He’s still wearing his gloves, because Stone has a thing for them (Stone has a thing for a lot of things) and the stiff material makes for an interesting, if not entirely pleasant, tactile experience. The visual is the important part for now. He rolls the loose skin down over the tip, tugging it to show how much there is before letting go. “Not nice enough, though. Too bad. I need to take a leak anyway.”
Robotnik tucks his dick back into his pants and Stone makes the most beautiful heartbreaking little whine of loss and panic. His own cock swells against the bars of its cage, throbbing and dripping but physically unable to do anything about it. Rarely is Stone this helpless (although he’s frequently this pathetic). It’s lovely.
Robotnik furrows his brow in mock sympathy. “Aw, you look upset. Did you think I’d actually give you what you want? Hmm? You thought I’d actually let you enjoy your nasty little fetish? That somehow, you could drag me down to your level?” He scoffs. “Optimism is for cowards, Stone.”
Stone’s crying again, tears rolling down his cheeks. Robotnik pretends not to notice but it’s a challenge; he wants to take Stone’s face in his hands and wipe the tears away, see the gratitude and affection glittering in those eyes, and then - well, he could make the tears go away, or he could make them worse. They’re both good options.
This is a “worse” kind of day.
Robotnik sets his heel against Stone’s shoulder and pushes. It’s not a kick, not exactly, because there’s no impact. It’s slow and deliberate and Stone topples.
“Did I say you could lie down, nimrod?”
Watching Stone get back up is, frankly, hilarious. Robotnik doesn’t hide his grin as Stone strains to right himself without the use of his arms. With enough wriggling he pulls it off, all abs and muscles and core strength, pushing himself halfway to his feet by sheer force of will before falling back to his knees. By the end he’s panting, but not from exertion.
“Much better,” Robotnik says.
Then he picks up his foot and does it again.
This time Stone doesn’t need prompting to get back up, which is nice. Honestly, sometimes Robotnik runs out of things to berate him for, especially if Stone’s being all good and compliant. It makes him a wonderful partner, able to adapt to whatever mood Robotnik’s in that day. He can follow orders flawlessly for hours, or he can wail and struggle and take punishment. He likes pain and attention; conveniently, he also likes being denied. He’s more or less a perfect plaything. Even now, he’s gazing up at Robotnik with awe and admiration and sweet devotion.
“Freak,” Robotnik mutters.
Stone whimpers. Robotnik can practically see little cartoon hearts in his eyes.
Robotnik’s biggest problem is a surplus of ideas. (What else is new.) He could completely ignore Stone and go back to work. He could summon one of his more specialized machines to fuck him rough and raw. He could pull Stone into his lap, slip inside him, and then hold him there quivering and motionless until he got bored of it. But he can’t do all of it at once, and even if Stone is enough of a deviant to enjoy hours of torment, Robotnik’s sadly all-too-human body has some firm limits.
So, he’ll stick to the plan. With another long suffering sigh, he leans back and takes himself in hand again. He’s harder now (meds finally kicking in; he’s not above chemical assistance, especially when trying to keep up with his insatiable little fucktoy) but doesn’t acknowledge it, acting instead like he’s tired of the whole thing.
“Do something,” he says. “Entertain me. Give me a show. Go on.”
Stone’s breath quickens. For the first time, his eyes leave Robotnik’s face, glancing around. What’s he going to do, all bound and gagged? Nothing, that’s what, and the despair on his face when that sinks in will be delectable.
But Stone’s a tenacious little scamp, after all, so he tries. He rises up on his knees and crawls up to Robotnik. Robotnik allows it, right up until Stone nuzzles against his inner thigh and tries to make his way to his cock. Robotnik can’t allow that, so he yanks a fistful of Stone’s hair and half-lifts him.
“Someone’s being naughty,” he says, his smile betraying how much fun he’s having. “Did you think you could get away with that? That I’d just let you put your mouth on me? After knowing what it is you put in it?” He throws Stone back to the floor and kicks him lightly. “Naughty pervs don’t get their treats.”
Fresh tears stream down Stone’s cheeks, glimmering. When he breathes, it’s with a hiccup and a cough. He’s choking on the sodden gag. Not enough to actually be at risk, or to get any pleasure from the lack of oxygen, but enough that he can’t ignore it. It’s just messy and gross. Robotnik doesn’t usually like messy and gross, but it looks so good on Stone.
That’s probably enough for now. While Robotnik enjoys the opportunity to torment his assistant, what he really craves is what comes next. In theory, he’s in complete control, acting only in accordance to his own desires. He would never admit that he drags it out longer than he wants because he knows Stone loves it.
Robotnik kneels next to Stone. “You’re ruining this.” He yanks the gag down. It hangs under Stone’s chin as he gulps down air, his breath ragged as a scream. “Man. Imagine being too gross to piss on. How low would you have to be?” He pushes Stone’s face against the floor. “This low, maybe?”
Stone whimpers. “Doctor…”
Robotnik lifts his head and slams it against the ground again. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to make the point clear, and maybe knock Stone just a little bit dizzy. “I didn’t say you could speak, you filthy mutt.” He stands again, swapping the hand grinding Stone into the floor for a foot. “Bad dog.”
“No!” Stone yelps, writhing underfoot. “No, please! I’m not - Doctor, please, sir, master, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not bad, please…”
“Gross.”
“Please - please - “ Stone’s pleas come out in hiccups and sobs. “I’m not bad, I’ll be good, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please please please!”
“What are you even asking for? Do you have any idea what you’re apologizing for?”
“I - I was - I was dirty.” Stone’s eyes squeeze shut like he can’t bear to look at Robotnik, even with his face smushed against the tile. “I was a dirty nasty filthy dog, and I tried - “ He’s heaving now, his whole body rising and falling with each desperate breath. “I tried to make you dirty too, I - I dared - and it was wrong, I was wrong, I’m sorry!”
There’s no artifice here now. Robotnik’s broken through to the heart of things, to the genuine fear and doubt that has taken hold in his little pet’s core. All the little mistakes that add up, all the minor disappointments, all the pain endured and silenced - it’s not about that, but it is. It’s every moment Stone has wanted to fall to his knees and grovel, throw himself before Robotnik’s mercy, be honored to so much as lay eyes on the genius, all crashing down at once like a cresting wave.
It’s not Robotnik’s favorite part, but it’s, like, top five at least. Maybe even top three.
He lets Stone marinate for a few minutes, still sobbing and aimlessly pleading, before removing his foot with a sigh. “You want to be a good dog?”
Stone’s head snaps up. “Yes! Please! Please let me be good!”
“Hmm.” Robotnik returns to his chair and drums his fingers on the arm like he’s seriously considering the request. “You think you deserve the chance?”
Stone’s mouth opens, then closes again. His eyes lower as he whines, “No.”
“But you want it. You want something you don’t deserve. Again.”
Somehow the “Yes” is even more broken than the “no” was.
Robotnik leans against his own fist, watches Stone for a moment, and grins. “Oh, c’mere, you.”
He pats the tops of his thighs. When Stone meets his eyes he nods a confirmation. Stone crawls to Robotnik’s feet. He pushes himself up off the ground with powerful thighs and falls into Robotnik’s lap.
Robotnik arranges Stone to be straddling him, hands behind him, and slips a hand around to the small of his back. “You’re pathetic,” he croons, kissing Stone on the cheek. Stone’s tears are electric, saline, ionic. Some spark races down them and lights on Robotnik’s tongue, like an ember flicking out in an instant. It’s hard to resist the taste but impossible to resist the sensation so Robotnik ends up licking Stone’s cheeks clean, chasing it.
He barely keeps Stone from tumbling off his lap as he undoes his pants again. “Look at that,” he says, pulling his now fully hard cock out. “You did one thing right.”
Stone licks his lips, staring down at Robotnik’s dick, but doesn’t move. “Thank you,” he whispers, almost reverently. “Thank you.”
“You want to be a good dog?”
“Yes, sir. Please, sir.” His eyes are so big, so dark. “More than anything.”
“You’ll do what you’re told?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything?”
“Anything, sir.”
Robotnik can’t resist a harsh, barking laugh. “Seriously, pathetic. Embarrassingly so. Are you ashamed of yourself?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Stone shifts his weight. His own cock is close to Robotnik’s now but still trapped in the cage unable to touch. “I’m - I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.”
God, Robotnik could just eat him up. In like four different senses of the word. He kisses Stone on the lips, briefly, lightly, and shoves him back down to the floor.
“Get to work.”
Stone lurches forward, barely even stopped to get on his knees before diving for Robotnik’s lap. “Thank you,” he manages to say, chanting it until he muffles himself by taking Robotnik’s cock into his mouth at last.
Robotnik sighs and sits back. Stone’s nearly frenzied, slobbering on his cock, sucking it hard and fast and deep, moaning and choking and sobbing. He’s pretty good at it. Robotnik puts a hand on the back of his head, fingers laced through his hair, and just lets it rest there. A reminder, a comfort, and a threat, all in one simple, almost tender gesture. (He’s pretty good at this too.)
He’s in no rush. He’s quite comfortable, sitting back and letting his beautiful tear-soaked minion desperately try to please him. It might take a little while, but that’s all the better. Let Stone’s jaw ache, let him start to despair that he can’t do it, let him lose every other thought besides pure determination to please his master. There’s so much going on in that pretty little head of his. Meanwhile, Robotnik doesn’t have to think about a damn thing except enjoying the show.
This time, he’s going to be nice. When he feels the pressure start to build and things kick up, he grabs Stone by a fistful of hair and shoves him off, making room to stand. Then he puts Stone right back where he belongs, gazing up at Robotnik who now looms so much higher.
“Good boy,” Robotnik says, and Stone’s eyes go wide. “Good little doggy. Yeah. Who’s a good boy?” Stone chokes on Robotnik’s dick, so Robotnik grins and fucks in deeper.
(He wonders, briefly, what Stone would do if Robotnik made him gag and puke. It’s not an appealing idea - it’d be a pretty big boner killer to get puked on - but Stone would be so humiliated, so despondent, to have his redemption at hand and be betrayed by his body, by a failure of willpower, made even more disgusting when he’d thought he was at the bottom. No, he doesn’t want to feel Stone vomit on his cock, but he wouldn’t mind seeing Stone that degraded.)
“You’re gonna be a good boy,” Robotnik says, “and take everything I give you, right?”
Stone doesn’t open his mouth but he nods as best as he can and hums emphatically and sucks harder. Dammit, he’s so cute sometimes. How is Robotnik ever supposed to deny him anything with eyes like that?
A part of him goes quiet in these last few moments, on the edge. He could pull back and prolong the experience even further, he could toy with Stone until both their bodies were too exhausted to continue, he could just stop cold and leave. But that’s the part that goes quiet, the part that constantly drives him to explore and test and push boundaries, the endless persistent urge to learn and grow and create and conquer and dominate and win - it all takes a breather, and his most base animal instincts blossom. He becomes a creature in search of pleasure, and here, he finds it easily.
Robotnik’s head flops back with a barely-voiced groan as he lets it happen, as his body sinks into the pleasure like sliding into a warm spring. His grip on Stone’s hair tightens, a reflex more than anything, but it pulls another surprised grunt from Stone. And Stone is a good dog, after all; he takes Robotnik’s emission on his tongue, thick and hot and salty, rolls it across his taste buds before gulping it down. He doesn’t let up while Robotnik’s cock pulses and throbs, or when it shivers over his tongue, or when the grip in his hair relents and Robotnik smiles down at him, soft and dreamy.
That only lasts for a few seconds anyway, that brief lull where Robotnik’s too blissed out to think. The first whispers of his returning mind remind him what comes next and his smile sharpens. His eyes meet Stone’s. The sheer potential of it is intoxicating.
Robotnik takes a breath, relaxes, and lets go.
He’s still loose and tingly from coming, and the relief nearly knocks him out. His knees threaten to buckle as all the tension leaves him, and when Stone sucks hard on his sensitive cock he twists the fist in his hair. Stone barely reacts; any trace of consciousness is focused on guzzling Robotnik’s piss before it spills out of his mouth. The rest of him is a single quivering mass of pleasure.
Robotnik watches his face curiously. Stone’s eyes roll back in his head, and his lips clamp tighter, and his throat bobs with every swallow. There’s a lot going on in that weird little mind of his. Robotnik wasn’t kidding when he called Stone a freak; somewhere, something went very wrong in that guy’s brain to end up this way. It’s fascinating, in a way. Somehow Stone bundles up all his doubt and guilt and fear and shame and washes it all clean with this objectively dirty act. It’s punishment and redemption and reward all in one.
And maybe it’s not exactly Robotnik’s kink, at least not anywhere near Stone’s level, but it’s still kind of flattering. In a fucked up, freaky, nasty way.
Robotnik lets Stone keep suckling for a second after the flow stops. Then he pulls back, sliding his softening cock from Stone’s lips with a wet pop. Stone gasps for air, his back arching and his mouth wide open and glistening. Then he’s bent at the waist, coughing, and Robotnik crouches and rubs his back.
“There we go,” he says, patting Stone. “That’s a good boy. Did you like that?”
Stone needs a couple more seconds to cough and sputter and remember how to breathe. “Thank you,” he spits, his voice ragged. “Thank you, thank you, thank - “ He goes into another coughing fit. Robotnik lifts a hand, and by the time Stone can sit up again a badnik has brought a bottle of water.
“Shh, shh, easy,” Robotnik croons. He cracks open the bottle and holds it to Stone’s lips. Stone hesitates to open his mouth, and it’s so obvious why that Robotnik laughs. “What, you like the taste that much?”
Stone ducks his head. “S-sir…”
Oh, he’s getting bashful. He just spent like twenty minutes begging to drink piss, and now he’s bashful. Weird little mind, indeed.
“Drink,” Robotnik says. It’s not really an order, but it is, too, so Stone does. After the first few mouthfuls he clears his throat and the hacking coughs stop. “That’s it,” Robotnik says, smoothing Stone’s hair. “That’s a good boy. Yeah.”
Stone’s eyes are watering, again, but he’s not full-on crying (for a change, jeez). “Was I - did you - “
“You did good,” Robotnik answers. “You did very good. Good boy.”
The gratitude in his eyes is almost painful. “Thank you, sir.”
Robotnik twitches a finger and the manacles holding Stone’s hands together click open and clatter to the floor. Unbound, Stone wobbles, still on his knees. Robotnik himself stands all the way up, stretching on his way up; he’s too old to pass out on the floor after sex. Speaking of which, he hooks an arm under Stone’s and helps him to his feet. They make their way across the lab to the small living quarters tucked away in the rear corner. There’s more than one room there but Robotnik drags Stone into his own, flops onto the bed, and pulls Stone down after him. Stone curls up at his side, his face hidden in Robotnik's shirt, and Robotnik lets him.
It’s not like either of them were going to get anything productive done after that, anyway.