Takes place in the Mafiaverse AU Lydia and I were writing in. Written February 6th and 7th, 2023. Can take place anytime after Désmoda and Aegon start hanging out, so I might backdate it eventually.
... I wrote this before watching High Life, and it hits a hell of a lot differently now, but Désmoda is a comedically terrible person soooo I'm keeping this in her profile.
Obvious CW for sexual violence is obvious. My dreamscape had gone into more detail about Désmoda and Aegon's sex life, but I was somewhat rushed writing this out, so I'll have to save the smut for another time.
It took Désmoda a
while to get the measure of the young man she’d personally carded on entry to
her club. Unlike his boring brother, it seemed Aegon actually enjoyed getting
so damn blasted on recreational drugs that he couldn’t remember his name or
what city he was in. But one could hardly be too careful, so it took some time
for her to start trusting him with her more hardcore drugs. Once she was sure
he wouldn’t report her like a little bitch and get her business shut down, she
allowed him VIP access to The 1000th Spoke. He drank for free and
did drugs for free. She could afford it, as she was compensated monthly by a
nameless benefactor. So Aegon got the highest quality drugs and drink Désmoda’s
and Cin’s chem team could provide. The more she got to know him, the more she decided
he was worth it.
Back in Hungary,
Désmoda’s mother, a marquess whose expensive tastes had nearly run the family fortune
dry, had wanted to raise her to be a proper lady so she could find a rich
husband to support her while she tended to her needlepoint or did whatever it
was rich housewives did. From what she understood of Aegon’s hungover grousing,
his parents expected him to make a marriage they considered advantageous and
take over the family business when his decrepit old father finally kicked the
bucket. He was as uninterested in his parents’ plans as Désmoda was in hers,
and spent as many nights as he could get away with at The 1000th
Spoke, or, more specifically, in the penthouse above it.
Désmoda had a
reputation for kidnapping lusty men and forcing them to be her sex slaves. All rumours,
nothing proven either way; in fact, no-one really took the gossip seriously
enough to report her in the first place. Whether these whispers were founded or
not, she treated Aegon well. She fed him vitamin water and spoke gently to him
before he went to sleep, and had a chef bring him breakfast in bed when he woke
up. She found it refreshing, having someone to take care of, especially someone
who was so much fun!
Those rumours
surrounding Désmoda weren’t entirely unfounded. Some of the people Cin’s
lab regularly supplied to recreationally were defence lawyers, a few of whom
still had the shadow of a conscience between them. They got their clients off
on technicalities for the most heinous of crimes… then turned round and
volunteered them as test subjects, off the books. Cin and Désmoda plied them
with drugs, sex, and promises to learn the truth of their involvement, in the
crimes of which they’d been accused and others. The truly innocent were put
through a paid study of one of Cin’s above-board, pharmaceutical drugs,
received their compensation, which included a generous amount of hush money,
and sent home with a doctor’s note. Overall, they were fine; it was just a
handy excuse to take a couple weeks’ vacation if they wanted.
But the guilty,
those eels that slipped through the jaws of justice, they were punished
properly. Désmoda kept them in a secure, soundproof location. She was kind
enough to give them mats to sleep on and an IV drip that kept them fed just
enough to keep them alive. She gave them stimulants to enhance the pain when
she wanted to torture them, and took great pleasure in oh-so-slowly cleansing
and cauterizing wounds she inflicted on them. When they were suitably
disinfected, she’d have sex with them, plying them with vasodilators
beforehand. If she couldn’t have them one way, she’d take them the other.
Collecting strap-on toys was a hobby for her; using them was another. If her
pets pleased her in bed, she gave them painkillers and let them sleep. If not,
she suspended them, then stuffed them full to bursting with ice cubes and
waterproof vibrators turned all the way up, sealed in rubber panties. They’d
stay like that till whatever time the next day she saw fit to release them.
Then she’d bring them to the bathroom, where they’d empty themselves and be
hosed down, then taken back to their mat.
Those who
pleased her also got the privilege of real food the next day, and a reprieve
from torture. She’d still use their bodies, of course—for chores, that is. She
dressed them up in uniforms and had them serve her guests and patrons, laying
on white grease paint and black eyeliner so thick they’d be unrecognizable.
Part of their uniform also included a ball gag. She wouldn’t have them speaking
out of turn, after all.
When Désmoda learned
that her new friend Aegon had a penchant for imposing himself on household
staff, she was delighted. Far from punishing him, she allowed him access to her
female prisoners; they were his sex slaves now, and he could starve or
torture them to death if he wanted. She remained unconditionally tender and
friendly towards him, leaving him to work out his issues when he needed to. And
when he still wanted to dominate his family’s servants, she sometimes joined them.
Other times she’d take the girl when Aegon was done, give her a mind-blowing
orgasm, and then take her home so drugged-up she’d assume everything was a
dream.
Having sex with
Aegon one-on-one was a wholly different experience. They relaxed around each
other, giggled, had fun. Sleeping with him was paradoxically both casual and
meaningful. They were good together, whatever they were, and she at least saw
no need to label their relationship. The day might come when he found someone
who suited him better, but until that time came, she’d enjoy what she had with
him without questioning it. Caring for someone was rare for her, but at the
very least, she accepted him for exactly who he was, and he seemed to accept
her in turn. The sex was pretty good, too. And really, what more could any of
us dare to ask?
No comments:
Post a Comment