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What's Life Without A Little Rapture?

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"[Y/N]? You doin' ok?"

Blinking, you glance over at Collette and give her a smile, trying to hide the nervous twitch in your brow while you prepare the syringes. Today's a big day. Although any day in Rapture could be described as such, this Wednesday is especially remarkable.

Today the Alpha mark 2 is born.

"Whaddaya think? This gonna go down to the dumps or ya think these'll finally stay sane when them brats die, instead of goin' apeshit?"

You shrug, not keen on building rapport with any of your coworkers. Around here, friends are a liability, not an asset. Especially when it comes to promotions...and breaking the law.

"I dunno," is all you offer by way of an answer. You slip a hand into your pocket and grasp the extra special hypo tucked away inside. Heart thudding, you mull over the consequences for the umpteenth time as Collette gathers up her sutchers and scalpels. Hypnotizing Big Daddies is perfectly legal, but not when it comes to your intent. However, you know for a fact that some people have used it for sexual purposes; others' success is the only thing keeping you from getting cold feet and abandoning your plan.

But something about it just keeps gnawing at you. You really do hate this place, although you can still marvel at its wonders. Escape haunts your mind every day, only to be brutally shot down by the fact that nobody is allowed to leave unless their soul has left their mortal coil. You know that what's being done to these men is a human rights crime to the worst degree; you have no wish to contribute any further to the removal of their rights and - in the case of this new batch - their very wills.

But how's someone of your tastes supposed to get their pleasure when the only monsters in this place are more interested in following around a little kid than they are in getting a piece from you? Besides, it's not like you created their predicament.

You grab the medications and follow your fellow nurse out into the hallway, giving the doctors meek nods as you pass. These people are gods here, just your everyday Eir and Aesculapius. To cross them would be to commit blasphemy.

Good thing you've had your share of practice with rebellion.

The operating room's doors swing open and you can't help but pause in awe; staring at the massive, brutish, deadly creatures gazing back at you with their cold green glow. Your nose wrinkles in response to the smell pervading the room: oceanic, but an ocean with one too many dead fish. Collette gags and coughs, but you're unbothered, finding the stench to be a small price in exchange for fulfilling your desires. Breaking yourself out of the stupor of admiration, you snap on a pair of gloves and scurry over to the first Daddy on the left. He's quieter than the rest; maybe his sedative is lasting a little longer than normal.

"Hey there, big fella," you whisper, offering a small smile to begin building familiarity. The massive helmeted head jolts slightly, the screen flickering between green and yellow as he studies your helpless form. A small grunt is your only answer but its enough to spark excitement in the pit of your stomach.

This might just work after all.

Checking your peripherals to make sure your colleague isn't watching, you slip the syringe out of your pocket and grab his huge left hand, jamming it into his plasmid port before you can have any second thoughts. The black market doctor had promised that it would lightly hypnotize the Daddy and promote bonding, but not to the degree that he had to accept advances that he didn't want (the doc had seemed quite amused at your preoccupation with morals). In simple terms, it's a sort of watered down love potion of the sexual variety.

You quickly push the empty hypo back into your pocket and grab a Little Sister bonding tonic off of your tray, waiting for one of the poor little ghouls to be brought in for the imprinting. As you wait, Collette picks her nails and the Daddy watches you, helmet never budging from the angle his head is maintaining. Excitement and guilt mingle in your chest as the girls are finally brought in; you finish the injections and let the Daddy reach out for the Little Sister. He croons out an affectionate tone of melancholy adoration when she bounces up into his hands and scrambles up onto his broad shoulders. His job will begin immediately, overworked 24/7 until he finally dies one day of exhaustion - or downright murder - over his precious cargo.

As you leave to head to the next room and the next Alphas, you glance back at the duo and notice the hesitant half-step his slightly twisted leg takes in your direction. A small distressed noise escapes him but thankfully the doctors don't take notice, chalking it up to a random pain from one of his many healing mutations.

Now, you need only wait.

 

 

The office party runs late, making it difficult to pace yourself with the alcohol. You can't get too wasted if you want to remember every detail of tonight, assuming he happens to find you so soon. So you flit in and out at the edges of the scene, nursing some champagne and allowing the ocean to be your primary companion. You'll never lose your awe of how beautiful it is out there; how its ethereal, shuddering blue aura transforms the cold metal of Rapture into something worthy of admiration.

"My word, take a gander at that creepy bastard," a man next to you scoffs. Craning your neck, a cold thrill runs up your spine: a Daddy is paused in the doorway, startling the partygoers nearest him. There's no Sister in sight; this must be the one you altered. You casually work your way towards him, moving past and heading to your (thankfully isolated) room. The deep thuds of his footsteps follow as he struggles to keep up, weighed down by his suit. When you arrive at your apartment he grumbles a call of frustration, finally catching up and bumping his helmet on the doorframe.

It would be cute if you weren't so scared of him inadvertently squashing you.

As a nurse, you really don't make that much money compared to most of the other job descriptions around here. Thus, your apartment is small, cramped enough for the Daddy to take up at least a quarter of the space. You take this chance to study him up close, taking in what you missed before in the rush of fear and excitement.

Compared to the first series, he's much less malformed. Where series 1 was all corded, mutated muscle, this Daddy is more evenly distributed. His legs are less twisted, not that you would've minded. The main focus here is what's packed away between those legs.

"Can you talk?" you whisper, taking a step closer and crossing your arms in an unconscious effort to protect yourself. "Can you understand me?"

The man-made beast is silent for a few seconds, but after a moment of processing he simply nods. The helmet creaks with his movement, striking you with a bold idea.

"What do you look like under there?" you murmur, taking a step forward and reaching for the frontmost clasp.

He doesn't like that.

You're met with a growl of warning, the hefty drill spinning out a short buzz mere inches from your waist. The threat only serves to arouse you even further as you drop your hands to rest on his chest in a non-threatening gesture.

"Well, I s'pose there's no reason to keep waiting. Can't have anyone finding us, after all. If they haven't already seen you come in here, anyway."

The Daddy seems confused, still planted in the same spot and watching you from behind his emotionless mask. Fumbling around in your drawer, you pull out the tonic concocted just for you; a perfect complement to his illegal formula. It'll bring your arousal to unnatural levels, since Daddies aren't known for their gentleness (or modestly sized cocks). Better yet, it contains just a dash of the same bonding component that keeps him tied to those poor little girls he's tasked with protecting.

'You better make damn sure you're ready before you shoot that shit up,' the doctor had warned. 'He'll be on you faster than a whore late on her rent.'

So you take a deep breath, and almost without thinking jam the long needle into your left wrist. Your entire arm tingles then goes numb for half a second, until the familiar plasmid burn claws its way up your nerves all the way to your now immobilized shoulder.

"F-fuck," you gasp, barely catching the movement in your peripherals before you feel his massive hand come down on your shoulder. The pressure causes the bed to creak as you're pushed deeper into the coils. "Wait-"

The Daddy lets out a predatory hissing moan, yanking at your arm in an attempt to get you up off the bed. As you struggle you suddenly regain the use of your left arm, swinging it up to place a hand on his groin before he can drag you out into the hallway, mistaking you for a misbehaving Sister. He freezes, his intense grip softening ever so slightly.

"I've been so bad, Daddy," you groan, wondering if this new series is even capable of sex. But your curiosity is soon answered when you begin to feel his fat bulge grow harder.

He's getting noisy now but you don't give a rat's ass. If anyone has a problem with it they're more than welcome to try fighting him, and jail is quite honestly worth the throbs you now feel beneath your shaking hand.

Suddenly you're pinned, smushed down on your back and squirming as your bones creak in protest against the unforgiving pressure. "You gonna punish me for making you mad, Daddy?"

A meaty hand is pushing yours away from his bulge now. This is all rather unceremonious, but honestly, how much foreplay could you really have expected from a half mindless monster? There's the simple pop of a seal and then he's proudly jutting out, casting a massive shadow on your wall as his hefty cock interferes with the light of your lamp.

Your first reaction is slight repulsion. The dead fish pheromone is permeating the room now, and the flesh of his shaft is...green? It's also mottled like a muddy toad's belly, with little misshapen nodules all over the flared [cut/uncut: reader's preference] cockhead. But overall, it's much more human than you'd expected, and not quite so huge as to instill terror. It twitches in response to your hungry stare, oozing a thick globby precum that's an unsettling shade of green.

His hand moves away from your shoulder and over to your knee, roughly parting your legs with a commanding grunt. The drill comes down and forces your other leg up over his shoulder, catching your clothing and basically ripping the fabric clean off you, exposing you to his curiosity. Wiggling to be closer to him, you work at your dress shirt and finally bare your overheated chest to him.

That's all the encouragement he needs.

A desperate yelp echoes inside his helmet and he yanks you towards himself, clumsily rutting his hips in the air, totally animalistic in his desperation. His cock swings and drips precum down onto your belly, prompting you to snatch up your pillow to shove beneath your hips so you can hook both heels around his nonexistent neck. The new leverage is perfect, and on a third slippery thrust he's slammed all the way up against your cervix with a grumbling croak.

"SHIT!" you squeal, your entire body locking up at the piercing burn. But the tonic starts to work its magic right away, morphing your agony into pleasure. It's no small mercy, since his thrusts are only getting more bestial and vicious as he discovers the warm silk tightly clutching around him.

"Oh Daddyyyyyy!" you wail, eyes flying back open in shock when a fat gloved finger forces its way between your unsuspecting lips. He pauses at the word daddy, giving you a whale-like croon similar to the one he'd used to greet the Little Sister from earlier. He removes his finger and lurches over you until his helmet disappears from sight, his fat cock slipping halfway out as he strains.

"What-," you manage before he leans back up, revealing that he'd retrieved your teddy bear from the floor in a shockingly heartwarming gesture. You'd left it there this morning in your rush to get ready for work.

He rumbles again and shoves the teddy into your sweaty chest, gently rubbing it against you until you grasp ahold of it and hug it against yourself. Then the tender moment is gone and he has your calf in a vice grip, dragging your hips up off the pillow to be flush against him. His jackhammer gyrations are making your head flop on and off the edge of the bed, but the strain on your neck means nothing compared to the utter ecstasy blooming deep in your core. The teddy becomes your anchor and you lose the ability to control your own voice, groaning and swearing and wailing in tandem with his thunderous rumbles.

Then you feel it, far sooner than you wanted but it's just too strong to fight. Your orgasm flutters around him and finally releases, pulsing and making you involuntarily arch up even harder against him. Choking on your incoherent words, you bite down on the finger that was slipped back into your mouth after your shaking ankles had somehow supported your weight again during the frenzied breeding.

You feel a rough twitch; he freezes and jolts backwards, forcing you to lose your leverage as his own orgasm startles him. His thick shaft pops out of you with a little squelch and the creamy arcs splatter up onto your belly, painting you with the evidence of your crime. His cum smells surprisingly pleasant, like fresh saltwater and normal semen. But your curious observation is cut short when he stoops low and rests a huge paw on your forehead, giving an affectionate rub and another deep groan.

You clutch the cum-covered teddy and grin up at him, biting your lip and pulling him closer with your ankles. As his softening cock rests against your ruined pussy, you can't help but feel a small pang of guilt over the humanity and autonomy that he's lost.

You only hope you can bring a little light to his lonely world, just as he's already brought so much to yours.