obviously

[anatural]

WHO: Korra and Hei
WHAT: Korra and Hei wake up trapped in separate rooms in a testing facility. (NSFW)

[Deep within the Aperture facilities is a division which everyone knows about yet aren't really sure exists. It's run by a fork of the GLaDOS AI known as the "G-spot."

The nature of its testing imperative should be obvious.

What isn't obvious to Korra when she wakes up is why she's here. Also where she is. And why her vagina feels exposed even though she's wearing weird metal underwear under her regular clothes.

G-spot is still repairing her audio systems after GLaDOS' little fiasco.]

Hello? Hello?! [Korra is sorely tempted to start throwing her bending around and kick up a storm, but she doesn't want to waste her energy until her captor shows his face. (Obviously she doesn't realize her captor is a computer. She also doesn't realize that one of the walls is a one-way window, allowing whoever's in the other room to see her without her seeing them.)]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ Little bitch, Hei thinks, but doesn't speak it, his eyes squeezed shut, his cock twitching, lengthening, and all the stoppered energy in him pulsing with renewed fire. He starts to tug the curly hair again, enough to make it hurt this time, to stop her in her tracks. But the split between his erection and his brain, between the high-pitched sensations he can't curb versus the crazy thoughts pinwheeling in his skull, make every muscle in his body turn blocky. Trying to fight the burgeoning need is like shifting a ten-ton boulder with your shoulder -- you can bust yourself until you pass out, but the boulder won't budge. ]

[ The fucking boulder has no more idea you are there than ... than a damn inanimate rock. ]

[ Which is exactly what his dick feels like. The ache spreads through his disembodied balls -- high and tight with their load. Heat crackles through the rest of his body, trapped in the other cell, until it feels like his bones will melt. To his utter fury and defeat, he feels his hips stirring restlessly, as if struggling to gain friction, pressure, while the damn girl handles him with her mindless indifference. Detachedly, he regards his dick, glistening and jerky and purplish, and knows he's at the threshold of orgasm already. ]

[ Teetering at the edge, then abruptly hurtling toward it, splattering the girl's hand with rich, sticky white. ]

[anatural]

Ewwwww! [Korra jerks back as the penis spews its payload on her hand. Gross! She shakes come off her hand, and then reluctantly uses her discarded jacket to wipe the rest off.

Still, this could be a good thing. She looks hopefully at the door, which she thought might open if she got the penis off.

It did (in both rooms)... But there's a second door behind it.]

Oh come on. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?!?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Panting, Hei feels a wave of self-disgust rise like nausea. He's always functioned by maintaining perfect control, as much as he's adept at unraveling someone else's. To be robbed of that -- even for a split-second -- makes a swell of bright-red trepidation swell in his chest. More than trepidation -- pure, unadulterated fury. This whole scenario is like being one of those patheticos in movies, muscles dissolved by strokes, or brains trapped in waking comas, perfectly sane and rational yet unable to translate thought to motion by twitching so much as a pinkie finger. ]

[ And really the stroke victim has it all over him, because at least that idiot is nothing more than paralyzed and mute, flat on his back in bed, utterly hopeless and robbed of all dignity, sure -- but still able to look down the cleavage of any pretty nurse that might lean over and plump his pillows. Whereas he feels forced to ride shotgun, straitjacketed and gagged, while his body -- his dick --is jigged about by some stupid teengirl. ]

[ Catching his breath, he watches her scowl and sputter, telegraphing disgust. Mutual, he thinks acidly -- then hears a distant scrape. Almost like a lock unclicking itself. ]

[ Eyes narrowed, Hei focuses on the door. Maybe the sickos watching have opened it? Maybe the stupid experiment is over? Cautiously, he approaches the door. It opens easily enough -- only to disclose a second behind it. Irritated, Hei tries the handle, a quiet electric surge humming beneath his skin, ready to divert the flow of any potential shock that the door might emit. ]

[ He's prepared to fry the thing off its hinges if that means escaping. ]

[anatural]

[Frying is not recommended, although Korra is ready to try it herself. Then the voice comes over the speakers.]

To help facilitate your testing experience, please enjoy this complimentary soundtrack.

[mortemscintilla]

[ First the imprisonment. Then the disembodied sex parts. Then the looming threat of asphyxiation. ]

[ Now they're trying to drive him insane with schmaltzy music. ]

[ Teeth gritted, Hei glares at the general direction of the noise with manifest disapproval. Facilitate your testing experience. Which means it's not over yet. Impatience crashes through him; he narrowly avoids attempting to kick a dent right into the door. ]

[ Instead, his tone flat and seemingly resigned, ]

So what's next?

[anatural]

[Doesn't the music make it obvious? G-spot really isn't impressed by this test subject. He blows his load with hardly any touch from the girl, and it has yet to occur to him to return the favor. Somebody clearly needs lessons in the love-making department.

But G-spot runs tests, not lessons. The music is the only hint it plans on giving.

In the meantime, Korra has yanked off her pants and is doing her damnedest to get the weird metal underwear off. It may not help her problem with the door, but at least she won't be vulnerable anymore to that stupid invisible hand.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The music won't stop. Tension edges its way through Hei; his skin is hot with the stoppered frustration of his situation, closer to rage. He also feels distinctly unwell. A headache stabs at him, and his stomach churns. Not because he's stuck in this goddamn cell, but because one particular lyric, crooned with such sugary intensity, keeps pinging at his brain. You'll do it to me, I'll do it to you. ]

[ Is that what they're after -- whoever is monitoring this depraved experiment? A mutual masturbation session caught in real-time? ]

[ Well -- forget it. He's learnt, over the years, to fine-tune his particular brand of selfishness. It extends to the bedroom; since that fiasco with Amber, he's been driven primarily by his own satisfaction. He uses sex as a tool on the job, a way to lure marks into a false sense of intimacy -- but as a purely therapeutic way to anesthetize himself off-duty. Once the buzz fades, so does his interest. ]

[ This doesn't even qualify as sex. It's a comedy of horrors. ]

[ He glances back at the window to remind himself that nothing is going to happen, and that nothing has changed. The kid isn't his type anyway. Practically a baby. He squints at the sight of her, stripped from waist-down, showing sturdy columns of legs as she tries to wiggle out of the metal underwear. Well, she's not easily deterred, he'll give her that. ]

[ Out loud, his voice tipped with ice, ]

I'm not fondling [ and terrifying ] a teenager so you can get your rocks off.

[anatural]

[Unfortunately for both Korra and Hei, G-spot has the brutal patience of a computer. It will wait as long as it has to for the testing parameters to be completed.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Whoever -- or whatever -- their captor is, Hei doesn't plan to give them the satisfaction of an easy experiment. A malleable guinea pig is a dead one. With an inward breath, he settles crosslegged at a corner of the cell. Lets his eyes drift shut, his mind narrowing just to a pindot of color in the blackness, time backing up in a way that indicates it is not his friend, won't pass and transport him beyond this, just as the air and his senses have turned against him, everything in league with his enemies tonight. ]

[ Doesn't matter. ]

[ He's prepared to stay perfectly still -- perfectly useless -- for as long as it is possible. Waltzing through his mind's endless hallways, into room after room of heaped memories, snatches of sensations, faces and flavors and fights. The blue room with its phosphorescent lilies shaped like Pai's fingers. The hallroom of the dancing fireflies that remind him of starry nights in South America. The room of masks where the light from an invisible sun turns spider webs of perfect lies to gold. Familiar rooms. Rooms filled with loveliness. But also rooms smelling of decay and malaise. Tiny rooms where the walls are damp and diseased with festering traumas; where, if he stretches out his mind's hand, he can touch the unblinking eyelids growing from the ceiling: eyes whose scythe-cold gaze follow him through a tilting labyrinth of images and thoughts. ]

[ You're wasting time, the eyes warn him. Just knock the girl out. Concentrate on escaping. ]

[ He shakes the suggestion off. It is expedient, as always -- but distinctly distasteful. Since becoming a Contractor, once solid illusions and inhibitions have died almost daily, and just when he's imagined nearly all of them are extinct, a few more are shot down. But there has to be somewhere he draws the line. ]

[ He isn't sure how long he stays still. It feels in his bones like a full day; realistically, it must've been a few hours. ]

[ Cracking an eye open, he gazes at the window. What is the girl up to now? ]

[anatural]

[Not crying anymore. She broke down for a few minutes in pure frustration, but now that the tears have been released, her head is more clear for thinking. She settles down in a meditative pose and goes through the facts.

Fact: She is in a creepy place obsessed with sex.
Fact: Bending her way of here didn't work.
Fact: That first door opened because she made the penis come.

So maybe she just needs to do it again? Korra sighs and opens her eyes. What other choice does she have? Standing up, she heads back over to the flaccid, sticky penis.

Ugh.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei watches the girl -- poignantly moist-eyed and sniffle-nosed -- head toward the dummy. With a blank sort of alarm, he realizes she's bee-lining toward his penis once more. Maybe she's concluded that the best way to get the door open is to jerk him off again. She doesn't realize that the experiment seems to be primarily centered on systematically, symmetrically, testing both their sexual reflexes. Now that his have been determined, the mechanized voice wants him to explore hers. ]

[ Which is all logical and sensible -- as much as anything so insane can be -- but. ]

[ It isn't happening. He's already made up his mind. ]

[ He still doesn't want her touching him. His overstymmied flesh will be too sensitive for her clumsy handling. If anything, he's drifted to that stage after orgasm where he just wants a drunken-dreamy nap and a big bowl of fried rice afterward. Neither of which are available. ]

[ Muttering a curse, he slinks into motion by pure reflex. Before she can get a hold of his dick -- flopping pathetically across the dummy's thigh, the tip glistening with dried spunk -- he swats his hand, open-palmed, at the vagina on his own dummy. Not too brutal, but hard enough to get the message across. ]

[ Knock it off. ]

[anatural]

[The slap isn't that hard, but it's shocking enough to drop Korra to her knees and bring tears back to her eyes. Snarling, she bends the metal bed across the room -- slamming the dummy (and its attached penis) against the metal wall.]

JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Fuck. ]

[ Hei doesn't yell it; Hei is too busy stumbling backwards, doubled over, eyes blank with a stunned, animal pain. The impact against the wall explodes messily in his groin, bright-red agony shooting up like mercury in a hot thermometer straight through his skull, which wheels in a crazy riot of stars around the stratosphere, then slams him back into the real world, where he is curled up on the floor, sweaty and twitching, his muscles feeling shredded by the collision. ]

[ He coughs, tries to take a deep breath from his mouth and then from his nose. The pain is a spiking, ebbing-flowing ache; his whole lower body feels doused in it, so that he can't yet determine if he's just banged up and bruised, or something potentially more sinister. ]

[ Amid the ring of clamoring-hot pain, there is a cold stirring of anger. He wonders how crazily the girl would flail if he zapped all her pubic hair off. ]

[ Which is an unworthy thought. But then aren't they all? ]

[ Breath by breath, he manages to regrasp his moorings. Staggers up, still hunched, favoring his groin. No tearing pain anymore -- just the sick pounding of aftershocks. Which means he's fine. Mostly. ]

[ Relieved, he nods to himself. Inhales, exhales -- then scowls and swats the fluffy-haired vagina again, this time hard enough to make the girl shriek. At this point he's absolutely done with this depraved experiment, the dummy, the cell, and his unwitting test-partner, who has all the tenderness and finesse of a rampaging water buffalo. ]

[anatural]

[G-spot watches with robotic dismay as the two test subjects brutalize each other. And not in a sexy way. If a computer could sigh, it would.]

For the safety of all test subjects, the testing chambers will be deprived of oxygen until morale improves.

[mortemscintilla]

[ ..........oxygen ....... deprivation.... ]

[ Hei blinks, with the sort of frozen consternation of someone who's tripped across a harmless crack in the pavement and fallen straight through a black hole. Maybe he has? Maybe he's parked in some Syndicate-sponsored dimension within Pandora? Right next door to the Subdivision of You Are So Very Fucked, otherwise known as the in-absentia Hell's Gate? And maybe the girl is secretly an agent sent to summon him into whatever is behind that second door -- probably a torture-chamber where he'll get his brain carved out? ]

[ Looks that way, doesn't it? ]

[ Their Do As We Order - Or Die strategy is certainly a well-loved Syndicate song-and-dance. ]

[ Glowering, he breathes deep and counts to three. Playing waiting-games will get him nowhere. He needs to get what they -- not he -- want out of the girl, and then he'll find out just what the hell the game is, and how to get out. If any single factor is inhibiting that, it is his occasional attacks of sentimental scruple, which keep flaring up, like rashes, at the strangest times. ]

[ It is his heart and head, not his cock, that hardens now. Okay. Let's do this. It's just one of those tasks that you motor through until it's complete. He's made it through worse. ]

[ Gingerly, he reaches out. Combs contemplative fingers through the curls topping the plump sex -- not seductive but soothing. He's learnt early on that if you're interested in getting a girl off, then The Mood is important. In bed, they need a little coaxing. They need to be completely comfortable, relaxed, reassured. He can't use any of the usual tricks -- eye-contact, conversation, flirting touches, compliments, an illusion of intimacy. ]

[ The most he can hope for is that he doesn't terrify her again. ]

[anatural]

[Korra wriggles and kicks, trying to get whatever invisible force is touching her to go away. She's panicking.]

Just tell me what you want me to do!

[Breathe. Stop freaking out and just BREATHE! She slams her fist on the ground, and lets everything out. Maybe this is what it wants her to do. Lie back and let whatever it is touch her. With a jagged breath, she closes her eyes and struggles to relax. How many times did she wish Mako would get over his hangups and touch her like this? She runs her hands over her breasts, massaging them, trying to lose herself in the fantasy. Except honestly, it feels awkward fantasizing about Mako when they've broken up. But the fingers are too calloused to be Asami's. Yet she can't stop herself from picturing herself kissing Asami, imagining the hands on her breasts as Asami's... and the hand between her legs Mako's. Imaginary threesome with her ex-boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend is weird — but this whole situation is bizarre and unreal and at least a threesome with Mako & Asami would be legitimately sexy.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She doesn't flail and shriek like earlier. That, at least, is a relief. ]

[ Even so, he has to shut down the flare of unsettling disquiet that flickers in his chest. This whole situation is so exploitative. For him. Especially for her. Just because he's doing this, coaxing that first stirring of heat from her, not by force or command, but with subtle teasing and soft caresses -- doesn't make it any less of a violation. Only a stone statue could remain unaffected by it, and even the most confused, reluctant, frightened teenage girl is no statue. ]

[ Except it doesn't matter how grody it seems to him. He just wants it to be over. ]

[ Resting his elbows on the dummy's spread thighs, he combs cool-tipped fingers through surprisingly soft hair. Smooths it outward, to better reveal that dark folds of labia, the hooded pink nub of clitoris. This close, he can smell her. Heavy, oceany, but not unpleasant. She isn't wet yet, but she's getting there. He can see the moisture gathering, the pinkish inner-lips glistening with it. ]

[ Carefully, he teases the folds of her sex with his thumb. Spreads the slickness out and up, across her clit, into the curls. In his peripheral vision, he can see the girl lolling back. Her little mouth is half open, as if she is gasping; her brows are drawn together as if by a thread of tension. She seems both tipsily languid and distractedly restless. His eyes are drawn, against their will, to the sleek lines of her body, the small strong hands caressing her own breasts. For a beat, he wonders what she's fantasizing about. In the next, he tells himself it doesn't matter. Just as long as she's relaxed enough to make his task easier. ]

[ With his thumb, he traces slick whorls across the stiffening peak of her clit. The index finger slips a little way between her plump lips -- not in, but on, staying on the outside, working slow whorls, deeper and deeper by degrees, in a sort of subtle mimicry of fucking. ]

[ Without any sighs or coos, any verbal cues to guide him, he goes by visuals. Gaze slanting to the girl, every so often, to see what works for her and what doesn't. ]

[anatural]

[Well, it seems like she figured out the right thing to do. Korra can hear air being pumped back into the room, which helps her relax. Breathing is good. Breathing is sexy.

The fingers? Not so...well, maybe. It's just so different than fingering herself, and not just because there's nothing actually fingering her. It's weird not having control, not actually feeling her own touch. Every sensation is a surprise. Which is really sexy when she doesn't think about what's really happening... if only it were that easy. The floor is uncomfortable; the metal underwear digs into her sides, and she dumped Mako three months ago.

This is the first time she's ever had any problems approaching climax; normally all she has to do is grind a little on a chair to achieve a miniature climax. She pulls up her shirt and slides her hands under her sarashi, trying to comfort herself with the familiar feeling of her own hands. All she needs to do is come and that door will open. Come on.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Breathing isn't sexy. Breathing is a goddamn imperative -- and Hei gratefully scoops air back into his lungs like it's going out of style. ]

[ His eyes are drawn over and over to the girl. Her face is a minefield of animation -- sweet and intense. Even from his cell, he can tell she's shuttering between fever and frustration. It's a frustration for him, too. There's no way to ask what she wants. How she likes to be touched. Whether he should go faster or slower. He can only navigate by instinct. ]

[ With the thumb and forefinger of both hands, he parts the plump folds of vulva to expose her twitching clit. Strokes the pads of his thumbs across the pillow-soft, slippery-hot skin on either side of it, teasing her, working her higher, but not daring to get too rough, in case she gets oversensitized and her arousal fades to discomfort. ]

[ There's got to be an easier way. ]

[ Then: Oh. ]

[ The epiphany is thick, slow, rolling in and out like a wave. Leave it to him to ignore the obvious solution. Dipping his head, he licks soft-tongued right across her entrance. Experimental, almost tentative -- but she tastes clean, he notes with relief. Exhaling, he laves at the salt-slick topography of her inner-lips, and at the same time slips his thumb down along her folds. He sinks it halfway into the wet, heated opening -- she is very tight, disturbingly virginal -- even as he covers the peak of her clit with his mouth. Humming, he starts to suck softly, rocking his thumb inside her with the same pulsing rhythm. ]

[anatural]

[Korra screams and flails, blasted out of her tentative fantasy by a wholly alien sensation. The only thing it reminds her of is Naga licking her, and the idea of her friend licking her down there is, frankly, absolutely disgusting. Her stomach clenches and she feels like she's going to throw up -- except it's not nausea. It's the most mechanical, uncomfortable climax she's ever had, barely even worth the name except for the fact that the door opens.

She uses air bending to help push herself to her feet and runs for the exit, not even caring about the pants and come-encrusted jacket she's leaving behind.

Which is just as well, because there's some kind of field just past the door, and it destroys all her remaining clothing. She finds herself in an elevator wearing only that strange metal underwear, her long hair tickling her sensitive breasts. She wraps her arms around her breasts and shivers as the elevator takes her up.

She's ejected into a room much like the one she just left, except there's a man in this one, as naked as she is. Before she can say anything to him, a bright light zaps them both. Korra blinks until she can see again -- then wishes she hadn't.

The man has her vagina between his legs, on top of the metal underwear like some bizarre appliqué. A faint tickle against her thigh makes her look down. Evidently she's got his penis.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei was expecting, after the girl thrashed to completion and the doors sprang open, that he'd be transferred to a different cell. At which point, there were two options. Either he'd be killed, or examined by some group of mysterious men in white coats, like a frog for dissection. ]

[ As it turns out, both would've been preferable. ]

[ Instead, he's in a white-lit room. Naked, cold, alone with that same strange girl. Red spots burst in his line of sight, fed by the bright flash, fading as he blinks slowly. When he can re-focus, he regards the girl -- and sees his penis flopping pale and incongruous between her legs. And between his own? Shit. Shit. Hei's heart wallops in his chest, missing beats. There's no way this is possible. It's absolutely freakish, and obscene, and so utterly fucking wrong. ]

[ He has a pussy. Hers. ]

[ Forcibly, he tries not to yell. It's easy to lapse into blind frantic horror-flick panic. Certainly, in his place, the average adult would. They lack the nimbleness of mind required to believe in such things -- but also to cope with them. And so when they find themselves in a situation where that nimbleness is needed, they can't summon it. They fall to pieces: go insane, panic, suffer heart attacks and aneurysms brought on by fright. Why? They simply don't believe it could be happening. ]

[ Unfortunately, with the carnival-catastrophe that is his life, Hei can fully believe it's happening. ]

[ But that doesn't mean he can accept it. ]

[ Glowering, he whips about, trying to determine if this cell is any different from the first one. It's not. Clearly they're still subjects of a bizarre experiment -- one that isn't over, and keeps twirling in a carousel of sickening horrors. ]

[anatural]

[Korra is surprisingly unbothered by the switching of their private parts. It's weird, sure, but freaking out about how weird it is isn't going to help anything.

What matters is that there's a real live person here now. She's no longer dealing with this alone.]

Who are you? Where are we?

[It doesn't occur to her that they might not speak the same language.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei glances toward the girl. It's the first time he's heard her speak. A deep voice, at odds with her snub and terribly child-like face, with the way she jitters even in stillness as if powered by the steam of ten supercharged teenagers. He doesn't avoid glancing at her breasts, imperfectly covered by her spilling hair -- but he doesn't stare at them, either. ]

[ His attention is snagged by her words. He'd expected the guttural, utterly foreign intonations of something resembling Inuktitut. Instead, she speaks in something that vaguely pings off his brain with an eerie deja vu. He can understand it; it's a sister of the Wu dialect from back when he was a boy, a strange blur of Shanghainese, the same two-tone pitch as Japanese, with nuances of the standard Mandarin spoken in the rest of China. ]

[ Eyes narrowed, he stares at her. Reminds himself that, in the world of language, there are words that sound alike but can have different meanings. The best way to determine what she speaks -- whether they can communicate -- is to flex her vocabulary. ]

[ Cautiously, his eyes still fixed to her like circles of dark, inky ice, ]

I don't know.

[ He uses the dialect of Wu Chinese. Repeats the sentence again, in Japanese, then in Mandarin, before shaking his head, in case none of the variations ring a bell for her. ]

[anatural]

[Blink. Blink.]

Why are you repeating the same thing three different ways? I understood you the first time. And don't you even know your own name?

[She's being snappy. And she realizes suddenly that he can see her breasts, which is somehow even more embarrassing than the fact he can see her muff. She crosses her arms again, turning pink.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ All right. She can understand him. That, at least, is promising. Hei doesn't rise to her snark -- although there is a faint, irritable tickle in his bones, unfamiliar-yet-not, his lips quivering open as if to snap Of course I know my name, before dropping shut again. ]

[ Blinking, he stares at her. Why is she hunching up? ]

[ Then: Oh. ]

I'm not interested in your goodies.

[ His expression falls short of an eyeroll. But a certain tetchiness in his scowl measures the difference. Cute as she is, she's just a damn child. Anyway -- in light of the mess they're in, it's better for him to look at her without a glimmer of physical interest. More for the sake of her (misplaced) modesty than any gallantry on his part, he averts his gaze just a skedge. ]

[ In a different tone, more businesslike, ]

Do you remember anything before ending up here?