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Rated: XGC · Short Story · Erotica · #783332
Knowing just the right buttons to push.
CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): All scenes: Trinity (?) (unwritten)

PAIRING: Shrine Knight/Palladia (M/F)

EXPLANATION: These scenes are technically all nonconsensual--Shrine Knight is NOT agreeing to relations with Palladia. (The woman is the one taking advantage here, for a change.) You see, Shrine Knight (real name Andrew Knight) was kidnapped and brainwashed by the Scorpio cult, which took advantage of his already existing multiple personalities by creating different "programs"--including the sex program in these scenes and in "Windup Toy." (Check that one out if you like M/M and mild sadism.) This program is accessed by touching him in a certain way behind the ear, I believe. This explains SK's weird reaction in the shower in "Flashbacks," when he remembers flashes of his encounters with Palladia, and just as quickly forgets them through dissociation. As it is a program which Palladia is interacting with in these scenes, and not SK's "core" personality itself, he's not giving consent...and so technically, Palladia is raping him. o_O However, I include these as erotica as they can fall under the "mind control" genre...some people get off on that stuff. Hm. Whatever. Think what you want; I still want to slap Palladia across the face. Bitch. (I have yet to include SK in a normal relationship.)

DISCLAIMERS: See the above. There may also be some plot details wrong, but I'm not sure. Please note that Scene 3, "The Program," is actually the first scene chronologically speaking, when Palladia first discovers SK's sex program.


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Flashbacks


Shrine Knight ran his hands through his hair, water spraying over his head and dripping down his face. The water was hot almost to the point of scalding but it was as if he hardly felt it. He would have turned it up higher if he knew that it wouldn't burn his skin. He'd never really liked the shower--perhaps it was still a memory of his Scorpio days--but no, he hadn't liked it much before then, either. Scorpio had never fully instilled a fear of water in him...perhaps to make him more useful. It didn't matter. For some reason he never really appreciated the feel of the water splashing over him. If he could turn it up higher so he could feel it more...

A brief, sudden flash before his eyes--something pale pink and round--a female breast, nipple peeking up hard, his own hand enclosing around it--

He opened his eyes, frowning. What had brought that on? He shook his head as if to awaken himself. Falling asleep in the shower, standing up, wouldn't be a good idea...not in his state.

Damn, if he showed up somewhere with another injury they'd pry his head open for sure. That was the last thing he needed or wanted right now.

He wiped some water from his eyes and then, as if to spite his own action, turned his face up and into the stream of water, letting out a shuddery sigh.

Another flash--a hard, tight belly--creamy pale thighs--vulva ringed with jet black hair, spreading open before him--

His eyes shot open again. What the hell--? He'd fantasized before, to be certain, but never like this. It never just popped into his head when he was thinking of something else! What the hell was wrong with him? Had he really gone so long without it that he was going to start obsessing about it? Why now when it had never bothered him before?

He shook his head again, abruptly, trying to clear it. But--

The curve of a woman's back--a gasp--someone crying out his name--a mane of luxurious black hair, a smoldering brown eye--

He suddenly recognized the woman and the feeling jolted him. Palladia? Why was he having sudden thoughts of her? She'd hardly said a word to him so far--he got the impression that she didn't trust him one bit, and he didn't blame her. Why was he thinking of her like this? Why now?

He balled a fist to his temple and rubbed his eyes. Come on, get over it. Get over it.

--Palladia's hands clawing his back--leaning over her, water glistening on her body--her glazed eyes, slack lips--the pressure of her thighs, squeezed tight at his hips--

The physical sensation of this last memory slammed into him like a brick wall; with a gasp he found himself sinking down in the shower, hands sliding down the wall until he fell to his knees with a splash. The breath caught in his throat. God help him, but he could feel that last one--a sharp, deep ache started up inside him, throbbing painfully. He tried to catch his breath but couldn't.

But--it couldn't be a memory, because it had never happened. How could he be so clearly seeing, feeling, remembering things that had never happened--?

As if to torment him further the images started coming again, one after the other, none of them complete, but all of them seeming as real as the water--even more real than the water running over him--

--Palladia clinging to him, arms and legs wound tight around his body, pushing herself onto him--

--his hands cupping her buttocks--the feel of soft flesh as he squeezed--

--Palladia kneeling--head and chest and arms down flat--hips high in the air--hands clawing the sheets--

--himself pushing--pushing hard--holding her hips in his hands--rocking on his knees--feet digging in, giving him momentum--

--a husky cry--his own name--a voice in the throes of lust--"oh--God--deeper--please, deeper--ohh--ahh, more--more of you--all of you--DEEPER, PLEASE--"

--thick panting--sounding so close--realizing that it was his own--gripping her tighter--pushing into her deeper--her cry of pain and pleasure--

--different positions--her opening before him--his hands gripping her thighs, tongue flicking over her anus--a startled gasp, the rapid spurt of her breathing--

--her own tongue running over his member--her low murmur--"you're so big--so big when you're inside me"--hands running up his thighs, over his stomach, back over his buttocks, an adoring gesture--

--taking her over a chair back--hand holding her down--her eyes shut tight, teeth clenched, fingers clawing--her harsh moan--her body attempting to move against him, to move away--his own hips, his massive member, inflamed, keeping her in place--

--their mouths meeting, tongues tasting, as their bodies met below--Palladia rubbing herself against him--her juice slippery on her fingers, placed to his mouth--his tongue lapping her juice up--

--his own juice flowing into her throat--her murmur of admiration--hands caressing his testicles--squeezing hard enough to sting--

--pushing into her mouth--

--pushing into her vagina, her breasts rising and falling--her sharp intake of breath--

--pushing into her anus--her body arching and locking in a paroxysm of lust--his hand pushing her down into the mattress--lotion making him slippery--her body racked with sobs as he--and she--came--

--her hands on his face, her eyes looking into his--her voice, soft, murmuring--"you're good at all this, aren't you...they programmed you to be good at this...I thought they might skip this part...but you're very good...what they've taught you...or maybe you taught yourself..."--her lips grazing his jawline, fingers tracing over his member--"...they did a good job with you...a very good job...I like having you in me...do you like being in me?...I wish I could tell...they programmed you a little
too well..."--her hands running through his hair, her face to his--"...you won't remember any of this when it's over...it's a shame, really...but it's for the best...I'm not supposed to be doing this with you...you're unstable...but you won't remember this, when it's all over..."

--hands running down his body--even briefer memories of the ache, the ache of pushing into her--a faint whisper at his ear--

--"...we can do this again, and again...but I'll make sure you don't remember...just in case, I'll make sure..."

--her fingers touching his cheek, his jaw, brushing behind his ear--then--


The visions ceased abruptly. Shrine Knight came to balled up in the shower, arms hugging his knees tight to his chest--water splashing down over him--his breath coming fast and hard in his throat, heart hammering in his chest, matched by the hammering pain in his head. Only because of his position could he not see that he was erect, but he could feel that he was, erect and excited and nauseated and splittingly painful all at once. He clutched his head and squinted his eyes shut, trying to still the throbbing, unsuccessfully. Though the visions had stopped, the memory of them was clear--every one of them as clear as if it had just happened--even Palladia's words to him--and every one of the physical sensations, fresh in his mind and to his body as if he had just separated from her--but how could he know so clearly how it had felt--when it had never happened in the first place--?

He ground his teeth together, wishing that the searing pain in his head would die away. God, what's happening to me? Where is this coming from? Why am I thinking this--?

The last thing she'd said suddenly came to the front of his mind again--the sureness of her voice, her words--the way that she'd looked at him when saying it--that knowing look, as if he were in on some secret, and yet another part of him wasn't--

"I'll make sure you don't remember...just in case, I'll make sure..."

--the feel of her fingers, brushing against his neck, a slight sudden pressure behind his left ear--

He let out his breath abruptly and his eyes opened. His own fingers gingerly felt behind his ear. He remembered that was where she had accidentally cut him several days ago. The night before he'd awakened...she'd told him that he'd taken a shower, and gone to bed, falling asleep so quickly that he hadn't even remembered what he'd done...she'd slept in the other room...or so she told him...but he remembered no shower, the last thing he could remember clearly was Palladia reaching up, pressing her fingers to the wound, trying to stop the blood...and then everything went blank...

He drew his fingers away, a new pain rising up inside him, a sharp anxiety welling up in his chest, stealing his breath away. He had no idea why he should suddenly feel so anxious--but the fact that there was so much that he suddenly couldn't remember about the past few days--it frightened him. Times when he'd thought that he'd just forgotten what he was doing--or dozed off--or "zoned out"--forgetting little things--and whole hours of time he had no recall of--he'd made excuses for it all earlier, but now he couldn't think of one little thing to explain it all--bits of it, maybe, but not all of it--!

And the sudden clear-as-life images of Palladia and himself, together, more than once, doing...all of that together...she still acted as if she didn't trust him, but he could sense that her attitude had changed, at least slightly, recently...why had it changed, when he'd done nothing whatsoever to change it...why did he sometimes catch her looking at him the way she did...

Several times when they'd been alone together, she smiling and reaching up, to touch him by the ear...

Never remembering anything that came afterwards...

As if getting too close to realizing something would be too much of a trauma for him, he felt the pain rise in his head again; with a weak whine he pressed his fists to his temples, willing it to go away--but all that happened was the blackness moved in, enveloping him, frightening him at first until he suddenly, briefly remembered that it was his friend, he would no longer have to worry, to think while it was there--the blackness swallowed him up, and another part of him took control, while Shrine Knight, the pained, terrified Shrine Knight, relaxed and let go and succumbed to the blackness, falling into a deep slumber, far from sight, far from the world...


Outside, Looking In


He saw, as if from a distance, standing in the shadows at the corner of the room...

A man, shoulder-length black hair pulled back in a ponytail, green eyes behind round glasses, sitting in a computer chair, staring at the monitor as his hands--fingers bandaged--moved over the keyboard. A woman with long black hair entering, advancing toward him. A surprised look from the man; he said something, but there was no sound. The woman--her back was to him--seemed to reply, moved closer. Another reply from the man--he backed away slightly, as if to get away from her--but she reached out and touched his head, just behind his ear, and a sudden change came over him--his eyes went cold and blank; he sat and stared at her now as the woman swung one leg over his, leaning forward to look him in the face.

Shrine Knight watched, mesmerized.

She spoke, soundlessly. Touched the man's shoulder. He said nothing. Her hands moved down to his lap. She unzipped the zipper on his pants, reached inside, moved her hands around a little. She drew him out; Shrine Knight gasped, seeing the man's large hard member thrusting outward, quivering yearningly. Yet the man still said nothing, didn't even look excited.

The woman turned away, back to him. Reached down to pull up her dress. She wore no underwear. Took her buttocks in her hands, moved back, sat down. The man's member, hot and massive, pushed up into her. She threw her head back, breasts heaving; gripped the chair arms--braced her feet against the chair stand and began pushing herself. Up, and onto him; up, and onto him. Establishing a rhythm. She spoke. A moment later one of the man's hands held her hips in place; the other squeezed her breast. He ran his lips over her neck.

Another image, as of peering through a soiled window: the same man, the same woman. In a small dim space, no reclining room. The woman bent over a low table, legs spread wide, dress hiked up. The man pressing down on her back with one hand, keeping her crushed down to the table, other hand grasping her hip, keeping her positioned before him. Thrusting rapidly as if he raped her. It was difficult not to think so...cold blank look in his eyes, grim determined mouth, hard forceful motions--his member, so huge, filling her entirely--tears of pain in her eyes, sobbing rise and fall of her ribs, inability to move. Buttocks quivering, trembling, nails gouging the table. Both coming in the cramped little room--her soundless cry--begging him to take her again...

And another image...dim forms moving within a steaming shower stall, colors merging and breaking and merging again in the heat. The steam parted and he saw lips meeting, eyes shut in desire, water running down naked bodies. A slick wet breast, nipple hard and tight, just briefly. Then, a dark patch of hair between curved hips; the steam clouded and broke apart to reveal this again, only a second dark patch had joined it, a large throbbing penis poking forward as feminine fingers gently splayed the pink opening. More clouds and steam. A moment later two forms were to be seen, the woman backed up to the wall, head back and breasts heaving, legs wrapped around the man's hips. He held her buttocks, keeping her up, his own head fallen forward; his thighs and buttocks tightened and loosened, tightened and loosened. They slipped and rubbed against each other in the spray of water, skin slick and wet and hot as they must have been for each other, inside...

...And yet another image...the woman seated within a car, her head resting against the seat, eyes shut and mouth parted slightly as she murmured soundlessly. Her breath came deep and even and she nodded and smiled. Her body swayed. His gaze lowering, he saw her dress bunched up on the seat, panties down around her knees; the man sat beside her, leaning over, his face buried between her legs. Her hands tangled in his hair, gently rocking him. Her hips moved as his head did; he nuzzled at her long and deep. She sighed and shivered and he pulled back. She smiled at him, lightly pressed him back in his seat and moved closer; there was a damp spot upon the seat where she'd been sitting. Face flushed, she reached for his pants, pulling the zipper. Drawing him out as she had before. Lowering her head to his lap, tongue emerging, shutting her eyes, her mouth enclosing him in a long, sensuous suck. Her lips and cheeks moved slowly up and down his length. His face remained blank; he said nothing, though she seemed to enjoy it greatly. One of her hands rubbed up and down between her legs as she sucked, fondling the pudenda, stroking the clitoris. She arched and threw back her head, quivering; thick white fluid sprayed upon the windshield as he released. She laughed silently and fell back against the seat, stroking his neck, saying something that Shrine Knight couldn't hear.

There were many more scenes as well...some just as vivid, others not quite as distinct. The man and the woman engaged in every possible position of sex, coupling, always coupling...sometimes he rode her...sometimes she rode him...sometimes he took her from behind...other times from in front...or standing...or kneeling...or with one leg up...or with both...or he would mouth her...or she would mouth him...or they would both lie upon the bed with limbs tangling desperately, mouthing each other with the greatest pleasure...always ending up wet and flushed and satisfied, ever satisfied, ever full...

But it wasn't the sex, as much of it as there was, that drew Shrine Knight's attention so. What drew his attention was the two people he saw in the visions.

The woman. Palladia.

And the man. Himself.


The Program


Shrine Knight winced and ducked away abruptly when the razor just barely cut his skin. Palladia cursed under her breath and reached out to press her fingers to the cut, to stop the blood. "Damn it. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that."

She pressed her fingers behind his ear, hoping that the cut wasn't too deep. Just what he needed, another slash. Almost immediately the wince disappeared from his face; his eyes opened, he stood straight again, and stared right at her as if expecting something. When she paused to look up at him she saw that his facial expression had completely changed, as well. Gone was the mildly irritated look that he wore most of the time; his eyes were flat, blank, and if they hadn't followed her own she'd have thought that he'd zoned out.

She pulled her hand away. Shit. She'd somehow accessed an alter, and she didn't recognize it. She wasn't even sure what she'd done to access it; her touching behind his ear must have been the trigger.

Well, this is great. Alone with a possible psycho and now he doesn't even know who he is anymore.

He didn't appear to be overtly dangerous, at least. It wasn't the child, and it wasn't the protector; but neither did it seem to be the hitman, else she'd be dead by now. She had to wonder what its function was...

The shower spattered softly behind her. She'd always enjoyed water. She suddenly realized how close the two of them were standing to each other; she was practically brushing up against him. The closeness...the water...his blank stare, which almost seemed to ask that she do something with it...a heady feeling filled her, and she found herself tentatively reaching out for him.

Most alters have a specific purpose...this one should be no exception...

Her hand touched his neck, behind his ear again. He blinked, yet the blank look remained. Her other hand brushed against his chest...she lifted herself on tiptoes, lips brushing his cheek...body pressing to his, mouth pressing to his...

Her mouth found his; a moment later his tongue explored her teeth. A sharp ache pierced her. This alter did have its purpose. God help her, she was only using it, but she suddenly ached to feel him, to have him--the shower spattered behind her--she reached to undo his belt--

He didn't touch her until she'd undressed him, then undressed herself--then he took hold of her face. His kiss filled her...she ran her hands down his muscles, under his testicles...God, he was so big...she hadn't imagined it, but he was big, and she knew that he would feel good in her...

Pally, this is just an alter! Think what you're doing!

You're right, JUST an alter. The right cue, he won't even remember this when we're done...


No time for guilt now. The water pattered in the tub. She stroked him, tried to lead him. He complied, took the lead. They stepped into the shower...water splashing over them...their bodies made slick. Her hands roamed over him. Their tongues explored. He sank down over her; his weight, his feel intoxicated her. Her legs twined around his hips. She moaned, a low, husky sound. She needed him. To feel him. Inside. All the way. Oh God, how she hurt...

The water made their skin slippery as they moved. More hurried now. Palladia groaned in impatience. Perhaps he had been programmed for foreplay. She didn't care. Her hands grasped his member and it began to swell. Right on cue. A brief glance at it and her aching grew. He was eight inches, easily; maybe even more. She'd never been with someone so big...it would hurt...but she had to feel it. She groaned again, impatiently; pushed herself around and over, slippery wet. Knelt under him on hands and knees. Oh God, she had to feel him. She could feel his weight over her. Reached back, grasped him, pulsing hot; felt a hand squeeze her hip, then her other hip, separating them.

The water came down slick. Palladia gasped soundlessly, arching and quivering in rapture. Water trickled down between her breasts as she threw back her head, mouth open. Shrine Knight pushed into her, pushed again, again. Palladia moaned with every thrust, unable to contain herself.

"Oh--OH God," she moaned. It didn't matter, he wouldn't remember this when it was over. "You...you are so big...ah...you are...so big inside me..."

He said nothing--she sensed that he had been programmed that way--but continued thrusting into her. He wasn't filling her completely; she wanted to feel all of him, all eight-plus inches.

She had to find her voice...find the right words...

"Shrine...Shrine Knight." She said his name loudly, clearly. He abruptly stopped pushing, still inside her, as if awaiting a cue. "Push into me completely," she ordered. "Fill me deeper. Deeper. Do it now."

He complied. Palladia shrieked and spasmed as a searing pain bolted through her. She felt blood. Oh God, he was so big...she'd known that he could hurt her, but nothing like this. Her shriek echoed uselessly. Shrine Knight now pumped full and hard into her, not heeding her cry. When she twisted her head around, tears spilling down her cheeks, to look up at him, she saw the flat blank look still in his eyes even as he coupled with her. She was right...he'd been programmed...his body might have responded to her touches, but his mind was not a part of it. His testicles slapped lightly against her skin.

She dropped her head, sputtering when her wet hair trailed in her face. Her fingers clawed the porcelain and her knees and elbows slipped. The tub was small and uncomfortable, but she didn't notice. When she moaned and sank down his hands kept her hind end aloft; opening her eyes, she could see his legs positioned behind her. Her hot opening ran with her fluids, and a trickle of blood dropped to the wet surface. She could hear his breathing, heavy yet even.

She tolerated him for as long as she could, which was longer than she'd thought. As the pain wore down to an aching throb she began to let out a long low moan, rocking into his thrusts. Her breasts swayed with their motions; she ran her hand up over his hip, squeezed his buttock, urged him in. She could hear the slight slippery noises of their coupling, his engorged shaft sliding through her slick juices and out again. She reached between her legs, first fingering herself, then stroking his root, then seizing his dangling sac. His breath picked up slightly but he said nothing when she squeezed it.

"Come on," she whispered huskily, "come on..."

The feeling of his thighs tightening against her, of that immense thickness sliding in and out, excited her like nothing else. "Oh God, YES," she cried out, voice throaty. She flung back her head so her wet hair whipped him and her hips trembled. She suddenly realized that he was going to couple with her as long as it took, until she told him to stop. Told him to stop.

"Shrine Knight," she whispered; his thrusting continued, but his hands squeezed her tighter. "Come...come on...bring me...make me come...then you come too...come on...come on..."

She didn't know if he understood or not, though his motions picked up slightly. His hips bumped to hers repeatedly, his eyes as blank as anything. His hands slid from her hips up her sides to fondle her breasts, squeezing them tightly, caressing in circular motions and tweaking at her hardening nipples. Palladia squealed at the sensation and bucked beneath him. He dropped his head and licked and sucked at her nape.

That was what finally did it. Her sensitive skin prickling, Palladia gasped and arched with a hard sobbing cry, her entire body stiffening. She felt a wave of pleasure overcome her, passing over her body once, twice, more, dying down rapidly; then she heard a soft grunt and Shrine Knight's hands clutched her buttocks. His hips pushed forward once and hot seed flooded her inside. Palladia screamed at the air; her body juddered in ecstasy. She'd never come twice in a row before; the feeling was outstanding.

"Oh my God, Shrine Knight," she gasped as she sank down into the tub, her skin slick with sweat, hot water, and his semen, "that was so good!"

A stupid thing to say; yet he said nothing. She didn't care. She knew that he wouldn't remember.

Which was why she had no hesitations with pushing herself up once she'd recovered, turning to him, and placing her arms over his shoulders with a coy smile. His blank look rewarded her; My little toy, she thought, and her smile grew. She drew him down into the tub.

Yes, she thought to herself, as she lay upon her back, gasping, with his thick penis rubbing and dribbling against her cheek, his soft sac dangling over her face and against her lips, his fingers clutching her thighs, his tongue prodding between her slick trembling legs, this arrangement will work nicely. Very nicely. Very...mmmmmhh, ohhhh...nicely indeed.

She held onto his legs and nibbled at his hard shaft, giggling and sighing as they moved in unison, enjoying her unexpected evening of play.


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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.
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