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People change; it's natural.

Tim has always liked sex, before taking this new job. But now he's angry, he feels disconnected from his colleagues at the Institute - people who were his friends once. And for his other friends, it's becoming more complicated to talk to them. For one thing, they ask about the scars. They are not ready to listen to that story.

So every week-end, sometimes more than once, he goes to some club or other and starts flirting with someone who seems hot, or cute, or interesting. It sounds so normal, when you don’t think about it too deeply.

 

The man is a bit older than Tim, wider too, muscular and flirting aggressively. It feels good; Tim has a lot of fun flirting back, throwing back his assertiveness at him. They're kissing violently and are close to fucking on the bar table when he finally relents, asks Tim to go to a room. Tim agrees, whispers to him how selfish it is of them to get away when people were visibly enjoying the show.

Of course he's still in the mood when they're alone, and undresses slowly, letting this very hot guy appreciate what he will get. He lets him act macho, comment loudly. Not his favourite thing, but it's not like they'll see each other again.

But there's a moment where he's gripping Tim's hair, and it feels just a bit cliché, so Tim laughs at him.

"If you beg me," he says in a sultry voice, "I'll let you lick my asshole." He doesn't know why. It just feels right. And the guy goes wide-eyed, and he melts.

"Please?"

Tim was already feeling pleasantly aroused, but at this point, lust overcomes it and he throws the man onto the bed. He gets more pleasure from dominating him than he could have imagined. He makes him beg, he makes him cry, he calls him all kinds of names and the guy basks in it.

"I'll never..." he says after making Tim come the second time. "I had... It's because of this time..."

He tells Tim everything about the time he was assaulted by spider monsters, what they made him do, how much he enjoyed it, and how it was so hard to submit again of his own will. Tim gets a bit interested then, and quite sympathetic.

Then he promises Tim his undying love, and Tim swears to himself they will never see each other again. This isn't about that. You can lie to yourself, but not that much.

 

When he goes to work, the encounter stays with him. He wants Jon to know - to know Tim still has a life even though he's trying so hard to prevent it. He jokes with Martin about the good night he had, sees him blush, gives him a few more details.

"Do you think Jon would realize," he asks, "if I brought someone here and fucked them right outside of his office? Against the door maybe? Not while he's recording, for sure."

"Tim..." Martin stammers. His ears and cheeks are all red, and maybe it would be a mercy to fuck him instead. At this point, he probably wouldn't say no. But Tim knows too well that the only thing he wants from this is Jon's reaction - being seen, being judged, not giving a damn - so he decides to leave Martin out of it.

 

The girl has long hair dyed blonde, a tired and pensive face, a thin body and oversized clothes. Tim has never wanted someone more than he wants her.

He's not the type to be obnoxious in the underground, where people are going to work. There's a place for flirting. So when he says hello, smiling at her, it's because he already feels desperate. He gets no encouraging answer.

He wants to get on his knees, promise her everything she will want if she lets him fuck her. His cock hurts, pulsing, so hard against his too-tight underwear and pants. He bites his lip; the slight pain resonates in all his body, making hormones run through his blood. He bites harder, still looking at her. It's the most he will allow himself.

When she gets down, he realizes he missed his station. He gets out at the next one, walks to the Institute. It's not a big issue if he's late to his cursed job.

He sees her coming out of the Institute at the moment he walks in. He recognizes her instantly, but she's now just an average cute girl. She awakes nothing in him, like the Institute has already sucked her dry.

 

Tim has decided to be a good employee and do his asshole boss' bidding today. The security guy obviously likes it when Tim licks his lips, and when he ruffles his own hair, so he does it a lot, watches the want swell in his deep brown eyes.

When Tim pretends to leave, he basically begs him to look at his security camera footage that he shouldn’t show to anyone outside of his company. It's almost too easy. Tim takes all the mental notes he needs, then offers the man a big smile.

"Do you often watch people having sex on these?" he asks.

"It's not... not that kind of place..."

"But sometimes..." Tim answers, stroking the man's cheek, coaxing a moan from him. "And then you want to be in their place, of course you do."

He doesn't have to let himself be fucked. But it's a few more hours away from his cursed Institute, and he's still being paid. When the guy fucks him, breathless, rock hard through the shame, Tim smiles at the camera as he spreads his legs wide. He doesn't doubt his new acquaintance will be grateful for this.

 

Tim feels sick. He wanted to go diving today, but he can barely move. So he's lying on a Malaysian beach instead, like a lazy tourist. Which he probably is, but it's meant to be a happy feeling, not to make your head spin when you're doing so much as trying to get up.

When some white girl looks at him in pity, though, he feels shame run through his body, and decides he needs to do something about it. He smiles, greets her. She has an English accent, and soon they joke about how they had to travel halfway across the world to meet. When he tells her just how pretty she is, he feels much better. It's so easy to follow her to her room, to worship her body with his words, to lick and bite her breasts exactly like she loves it. She screams hard when she comes, and then apologizes, laughing against his shoulder. Really, he likes her.

It's because he wants to be closer, of course. He asks her her name.

"I'm Leanne Denikin."

He wonders if she sees how shocked he is. He wants to scream and to punch someone, She's some kind of trap, some kind of bait. He should run away and never come back, it's so unfair.

Instead he gets closer to her, makes her comfortable in the circle of his arms, and, seemingly so innocently, asks about her family.

He needs to know the truth.

 

The truth is, it seems, that Sasha is dead, has been for a long time. Tim wishes he had died in Malaysia, that he never knew about this. It wouldn't be fair to her memory, he tries to convince himself. Except that it doesn't exist, that's the point, he can't remember for sure even one thing about her, and he wants to scream.

His feelings are all numb, except for the disgust, and he wishes it extended to his sex drive. He knows it has always been a mechanism to escape the hard reality for a while, but it's getting unacceptable. It's one thing to give a second look at Melanie and to realize how nice it must be to be hurt by her. It's another thing entirely to look at Jon - who is probably not a murderer, but still a stalker - and to think about slapping him and pulling off his clothes and whipping him to tears.

One day, he's getting angry as a poor discredited statement, less evil than the real ones, but that still deserves his annoyance for the poor handwriting. He's distracted by a subtle cough. It makes his body vibrate, and he's almost afraid when he looks up.

Elias is here. It's stupid. Elias isn't bad looking, that's sure, but he isn't Tim's type - and he's evil, which is probably even worse than being useless. But Tim is looking at him right now and wants to roll at his feet like a pet and beg to suck his cock.

"What... what are you doing here?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady when his whole body is trembling.

"I have something to explain to you," Elias answers in a commanding but measured tone. Then he adds, "you dirty slut," and Tim almost comes in his pants.

Tim doesn't understand how he manages to follow him to his office without tearing off his own clothes.

 

"Do you want to get naked and on your knees?" Elias asks, politely and distantly.

Tim wants it, he wants it very, very much. "What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing, really. I've had other things in mind lately, otherwise I like to think I would have noticed before. You're more deeply marked than I thought. And you have a beautiful cock."

Lust shoots through Tim like lightning. His cock is straining against his underwear, and Tim is not even sure Elias needs evil powers to see it.

"Tell me," he answers in a weak voice.

"Of course it's what you want. Remove your clothes, do what I want, and I'll tell you everything."

Tim wants to scream, he wants to run away.

"I hate you," he just says. "You're an evil bastard." And he starts undressing.

The way Elias looks at him, it makes him squirm and shiver. It's a caress and it's a slap. He sways his hips, to feel more of it. He touches his already hard cock, not even for the effect it has on him, never enough, so unsatisfying, but because Elias' eyes will go there...

He will understand. He's doing all this to understand.

"Come here." Elias orders. He's still seated in his office chair, Tim towering over him.

Elias raises a hand and pinches Tim's nipple, hard. The pain is sharp and makes his cock jerk.

"You're such a beautiful slut." Tim doesn't wonder how this can go so straight to his cock. He's not against a bit of dirty talk, but this feels different, deeper.

"And you're an asshole," Tim answers, through gritted teeth, otherwise he would moan.

"If you want me to explain, you'll have to stop insulting me. I understand it can be hard, but I'm ready to offer some help to shut you off."

The need to kneel and suck off Elias was already strong, but now it's overwhelming, debilitating. Tim knows he will not win this fight, so he decides to rebel by doing it before being explicitly asked, as fiercely as he can. Elias's trousers are quickly opened, and Tim digs into his underwear, immediately starts to suck at his hardening cock, putting his tongue to good work while hollowing his cheeks.

He feels like he was dying for this, like it's the best sex he ever had, and he hates this, but he would hate stopping even more.

"You have a beautiful body and a skilled mouth," Elias purrs. "And quite the sexual history. Did you already abuse your attractiveness to get what you wanted before working here? Anyway, it wasn't so hard for you, to flirt and fuck to make a better job of following up statements, did it? It was a challenge, even. And then you got better at figuring out what people like, in a way that goes past empathy and experience. You brought back so much useful knowledge to the Institute this way."

Tim is not sure he understands this; he keeps sucking hard, as if it could ground him. Elias pulls his hair to make him stop. He tugs hard, and it hurts, but the most frightening thing is that Elias' will is half of what makes him stop.

He's breathing hard, wanting and waiting. He notices that Elias has taken a bottle of lube from a drawer.

"Face the window," Elias orders. "Then open yourself up with this. I want the whole world to look at you."

Tim shivers at these words. He knows there are only a few buildings facing the Institute. He might be seen, sure, but he has done worse, as semi-public sex goes. But the way Elias asks for it makes him shiver in lust and fear.

When he obeys Elias' orders and looks outside, he's almost eager for eyes on him.

"Tell me more," he orders. But he still starts preparing himself before Elias even starts talking, showing off his ass. He knows Elias wants him, he can feel it. "Explain to me how you did nothing to me."

"Well, I certainly signed you a contract when Jon asked for you to work at the Archives," Elias snickers. "But I can guarantee he didn't know about the effects. About how much more of a slut it would make you."

"Yeah, of course you're in a position to judge other people's sex lives. I don't have employees, but I think even a slut like me wouldn't fuck them."

He whacks one of Tim's ass cheeks. Tim hates how he loves it, how he needs more. He arches his back and moans.

"You say this, but you'd cry if I stopped," Elias comments. "I think it's enough. Spread your legs for me, and beg."

"Fuck me!" Tim immediately answers. "Fuck, tell me everything and fuck me, asshole! You promised!"

Elias grabs his shoulders and thrusts deep into him. He's almost entirely clothed, Tim realizes, and if someone is looking from the outside, Tim seems to be the only one who's begging to be looked at, fucked with glares and longing gazes.

"But it wasn't enough, was it?" Elias keeps going. His voice is so steady, even as he's thrusting into Tim, making deep pleasure seize his body at every stroke. "Not only do you get to know what people like, but you get to want it yourself. You should be proud, you know. The God of the Institute chose you. Of course, it chose you for being a slut and spreading your legs, since that's all you're good for. It even made it sweet for you, and look at what you're becoming, a universal mirror of other people's desires."

Tim's blood is both fire and ice. It seems like a ridiculous, cosmic joke, but it still explains everything, and it's what his life is becoming. Everything good in it being lost or spoiled forever.

"So you know, you're not my slut. I'm only using facts to my own advantage: you're everyone's slut, at least everyone who has a good story to tell you, good follow-up for Jon's statements. I just happen to know a lot of good stories. And you know, I think my God really appreciates you, because your fantasies about being seen, about the shame of being caught? It's not only for me. You managed to really catch Its Eye, what can I say?"

Elias thrusts a last time, and comes. Tim comes at the same time, hard, without his cock even being touched. His come spurts and splashes on the window glass. He doesn't want to get away. He doesn't want people to stop looking at his humiliation. It should be known by everyone. It's too huge to be hidden.

Oh, everything Elias was telling him is true.

Tim rests his burning forehead on the cold glass. He wants to see outside, but there are too many tears in his eyes, not falling.

"You were the only one to notice you couldn't quit." Elias' voice says. It stopped feeling hot; Tim assumes that it's because he plans to tell him nothing of importance, and tries not to listen the taunts about what he must have been before not to notice this as clearly.

People change; it's natural. It makes it harder to see when it's not. And sometimes you don't even notice when you stop being yourself.