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10 April 2006 @ 08:56 pm
[fic] Ling/Al fic: "Caricature of Human Intimacy" chapter 4/?  
TITLE: Caricature of Human Intimacy
Author: Youko Fujima
CHAPTER: 4/?
PAIRING: Ling/Alphonse (both as a girl and as a boy)
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: Overall, non-consensual sex, sexism, molestation (in large numbers), gender-bending, etc
AL'S GENDER IN THIS CHAPTER: FEMALE (this fic consists of half-and-half Al as a boy and as a girl)
BETA: circe67, thank you!
SUMMARY: How do you treat a piece of flesh offered up from a foreign land if you have never been trained in morality?


Previous chapter here.

NOTE: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC AND VIOLENT RAPE. Not for the light-hearted. Includes link to illustration.



“Tell me how you did it,” Ling demanded again, “What did you do, what did you use?” He knew that he was getting ahead of himself, since he knew nothing about the science of alchemy save for what he’d heard from stories. No matter what she said, he would not be able to actually use it or perform it, but if she talked now, if he managed to make her spill her secrets, then there was also a very good chance that she’d talk when he presented her to his father, or even for her to write down her notes to be deciphered. He made a twisting motion with his right hand when she did not answer and she screamed.

“I-I don’t know!” she shouted, turning her face towards the mattress. Even though her wrists and hands were bound above her head, she still attempted to swat at him with them. Ling released the captured breast in his left hand and took instead her wrists. His grip on them would have been crushing if not for the way his jacket cushioned her flesh and bones.

“Don’t make me dislocate them,” he threatened and Alphonse immediately stopped her assaults, “I will ask you again—how did you perform what you did to yourself?”

Alphonse squeezed her eyes shut and furrowed her brows tightly as though unable to comprehend the fact that Ling was still asking her in such a method, even though she had already given him a negative answer, over and over again. When she did not give a response immediately, Ling chose to pry her legs open to show her the severity of his measures, keeping her thighs apart with his knees. A gasp escaped her lips when she looked down and saw, to her horror, her own spread legs, implying just how much she was exposing, as well as what was to come. She screamed.

“I said I don’t know!” she yelled, writhing again regardless of Ling’s previous warning. He caught her trying to kick, and pulled her one leg towards him, pressing it between his own bent leg.

“You seem to like to exercise the old phrase ‘Not drinking wine humbly offered to you, but taking the wine forced as a punishment,’” Ling said, feeling himself growing progressively angrier. If she had been offered up to Xing as a diplomatic specimen, then she might as well not fight it so much. Of course, she was probably coerced into the situation, considering how drugged she was when she was brought in, but now that she was there, what good would it do her to keep her secrets to herself? Absolutely nothing, and bordering on being completely negative; Ling was about to make sure that she knew this. He moved his left hand lower, between her legs. Though he did not yet delve his fingers any deeper, his eyes conveyed his promise well enough, and Alphonse stared at him with terror erupting in her gray-green eyes, her teeth gnashing.

“I do not know,” she breathed out, her eyes locked onto Ling’s, but Ling figured that there was something that she was not letting on. Spreading her legs wider, Ling dipped his fingers into her, silently thankful that the medical staff had excessively lubricated her beforehand; they entered her easily and created an exaggerated wet sound within her.

It seemed that the sound itself made Alphonse more terrified than the act, for whatever reason. Maybe the drug made her sense of touch more sluggish as well, but the groan that Ling managed to elicit from her sounded like something she was trying to do in order to censor herself. She trembled, though from the way she did, Ling was sure that she was not trembling from pleasure, even if it was being forced upon her. No, she was scared, and yet she continued to glare daggers in his direction, still attempted small kicks with her free leg.

"You really don't want to talk," Ling said, more of a statement than a question. At this point, he was starting to get hard by just touching her and watching her writhe underneath him. It gave him a sense of power that he hardly felt, even at his status.

And, given his status, he was rather taken aback when Alphonse spat in his face at his statement. He glared down at her, seeing red, and plunged into her his two thickest fingers, the middle and ring , while releasing the breast that was in his right hand to latch painfully at her throat. She gagged and kicked at the mattress with the heel of her foot, struggling, indicating how much it hurt to have his hand squeezing the air out of her while at the same time, violating her with his fingers.



He moved in closer to her, pressing his face between her breasts and breathing in. She was more than likely a virgin by the way she was resisting his fingers and by how she smelled of no one and nothing but soap and sun. It was clear that she belonged to no one, no one had taken her before and if she were ever a boy before, he'd never taken a woman. Ling found himself grinning into her skin as he circled his fingers insider her, moving up to find her clit, making sure that he brushed the ball of his fingertip deliberately against her urethral opening as he passed it. She gasped for air, her throat making clicking sounds as his thumb pressing harshly against the soft area below her jaw. His fingers continued to work, now circling around the skin that covered her clitoris, shifting the movement of his fingers from a circular motion to one where he just moved it up and down about the glans to stimulate it more. He could feel her getting hotter and wetter, and he smiled into her skin again.

"You're a very loose girl," he whispered, nibbling into her skin, "Now if only you would talk like the way your body opens up. I suppose your mind and body are in indirect correlation to each other..."

She made a choking sound and he loosened his hold on her throat, but still kept it under his palm. He began to nibble at her skin, not giving her enough time to adjust to the new sensation before biting and licking at the minimal space between her breasts, then moving on to her nipples. She gave a breathless yelp and thrashed, but even then he did not stop.

If anything, her struggling only drove him on. Ling vaguely remembered a time when his third brother, Bai, had said something about how spiritually fulfilling it was to take a woman who resisted with all her might, how great it was to be completely physically dominant. At the time, Ling had turned away in disgust as Bai dragged a village peasant girl he found on a riding trip, screaming and crying for help, into his chambers. He had found that sort of mentality to be repulsive and too ego-centric. Even though he was proud of himself, Ling did not feel that there was a need for him to rape a girl in order to feel powerful.

Yet now he was doing the exact same thing and enjoying every second of it, every whimper and groan, every small squirm and thrash. His fingers delved deeper yet, the tips going into her vagina and producing a very pleasant squishing sound. He leaned up next to her ear and breathed.

"Squish," he said, knowing that she was trying to block out the lewd noises that he made her body make. His fingers moved, twisted, and he inserted another. More sounds emitted from between her legs and Ling enunciated that one as well.

"Squelch," he whispered this time, like he was doing some running commentary. He nibbled her earlobe, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers, driving them deeper, rubbing, and at times, even rolling her clit between his fingers. His fingers did not leave a single area unattended, sometimes probing and thrusting into her vagina, sometimes just teasing the skin that folded across her opening. Alphonse whimpered, biting her lips, refusing to let out her moans, and Ling let her lips bleed.

Eventually, though, Alphonse found herself growing hotter; a strange feeling rushing between her legs (and some to her breasts), one that was not too different from the one she had experienced in a foggy haze on the examination table. Except this time, it dragged on longer and the fingers were more skilled than the medical staff's. She whimpered and threw her head back, wanting to bite her tongue, but found that all the strength in her body was now going down to her back, her hips, her legs. A horrifying realization dawned on her when she felt that her body was arching upwards, leaning up into those fingers, wanting more, wanting to be released.

"No!" she choked, and Ling released her throat to hear her better, "NO!" Her vision blurred, perhaps for the better, as she felt tears well up in her eyes when her body betrayed her. The sound that emitted from her lips as she came was something like a moan that was caught in the middle of a violent strangulation. Ling grinned, drinking that sound in while she shuddered in her second orgasm of the day, crying like that, then dropping her body to the mattress, her body heaving and breaths short. He pulled his fingers out and ran them, wet with her fluids, up her crotch, staining the fine hair that covered it.

But he was long from being done with her.

Ling drew back to stare at her for a moment, at this creature lying panting on his mattress, at how her eyes were fighting to not focus on anything at all, as though hiding from the current situation. He reached over with the hand that was covered in her essence and turned her face towards him.

"Spit at me again and I won't let you release so easily next time," he promised. Anger crept into her cheeks and her brows furrowed, but a whimper rumbled in her throat. By the way she worked at something in her mouth and then swallowed, however, Ling was sure that she had contemplated it.

Her spirits were still up and he was still hard. All the better.

Once again, he leaned his face in towards her breasts and nibbled at them like before. There was no reason for him to be gentle or doting and he made sure that he was anything but that. His hands took hold of her full breasts again and began to knead, moving them in circular motions and rolling her nipples into erection with his fingertips. By now, Alphonse could hardly feel her mind work, her senses lost to the heat that remained between her legs and the one that was steadily growing on her breasts. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard her fluids producing wet sounds against the lumps on her chest as Ling's hands pumped them. It made her feel nauseated and her breasts were starting to feel sore. She tried to make that discomfort apparent on her face and for whatever reason, Ling stopped kneading her breasts and drew away.

But then she heard the sound of his clothes rustling.

"Still not talking?" he asked.

Alphonse couldn't believe that he was still expecting an answer. She turned her face stiffly away from him. Later, she would regret that, she failed to see him move up towards her again, unclothed, erection straining.

"I told you I don't--" her response was cut off by her own screaming as he plunged into her.

At first, Ling contemplated whether or not to gag her because of her screaming, but then he decided, while feeling a bit of a tug at his lower abdomen, that he liked it. He wanted more, in fact. His erection impaled her deeply and he was sure that with his length, he had no problem making her feel it completely. With the way she was screaming and thrashing, he was sure that he had hit the spot inside her and began to move. Licking his lips, Ling grabbed her one leg and put it over his right thigh while spreading her wider, pushing her other leg upwards with his left hand and bending her knee in the process. A yelp escaped Alphonse when she felt the pull of his hands on her legs, dragging her towards him, and the slight shifting of her body on the mattress when he pushed. His motions were merciless, yanking, shoving back and forth on the silk sheets, and with her hands tied uselessly above her, she did not even have the luxury of grabbing onto the sheets to compose herself.

“You can scream the answer if you’d like,” Ling offered, thrusting his pelvis hard enough to hear the slapping of his flesh against hers. She only screamed unintelligible words as her body slid back and forth on the mattress, her breasts moving to the motion of her body as though waving and enticing Ling to grab at them. Making sure that her leg was not going to slide off his thigh, Ling released his hold on it and accepted the invitation of those lumps, grabbing at them once again within the countless times that day, and rubbing at them harshly with the palm of his hand.

Alphonse seemed to be conditioned to the idea that when he held onto her breast, he was going to ask another question, and immediately she yelled, “I don’t know!”

“I think you’re lying,” Ling hissed, moving forward and pressing deeper into her, if that was at all possible, making Alphonse feel as though Ling had shoved himself into her uterus. She screamed again and shook her head rapidly in denial.

“I really don’t!” she insisted, only to feel him speed up. He licked at her shoulder where he had bitten her and left his mark, breathing hot breaths on her sweaty skin. Then, he pulled out of her until only the tip of his erection, already wet with pre-come, was left inside her, giving her a false sense that it was all over, but he slammed into her again, so hard that her hips rose up off the mattress, her back arching, bending painfully. Ling turned her onto her side and adopted an even faster rhythm, turning her screams into short cries each time his tip pressed against her cervix, making sure to produce that wet slapping sound that she hated so much each time.

Her screams and cries eventually turned into periodical whimpers and mumblings of unintelligible words that Ling did not bother to listen to. He grunted over them, changing his pace now to a slower one, but one where he would thrust, then grind his hips in a semi-circular motion, letting his length feel the heat of her inner walls. It felt wonderfully hot and wet, and she smelled now of sex and the night, covered in her sweat and unwilling tears that she shed from the pain.

Ling felt himself get closer to climaxing, his body beginning to shudder as well, and Alphonse’s eyes flew open at the hint, at the way his tip was rubbing at her cervix, getting ready to shoot into her. She began to scream again and tried to kick at him, but he held her fast.

“I really don’t know!” she sounded as though she was pleading, “I really don’t!!”

Hands tightening over the underside of her thighs as he pushed her legs up, Ling grunted as he came into her. The sound that she made sounded like a scream, a moan, or a choked gurgle, he wasn’t sure. His body gave small spasms as he tilted his head back, feeling his seed empty out from his own body and into hers, heaving a sigh. She let out an unwilling moan and came again, the third time that day, her body shuddering weakly from the new sensation. After a moment of heaving breaths and hiccupped sobs, Ling pulled out from her and she turned her body away from him, trying to curl into a fetal position with her one leg still trapped between his.



Shifting his weight, Ling released her trapped leg and she quickly tightened herself into a ball, wincing at how raw she felt down there with the sudden tightness, and loosened the position. Her hands held at her sides loosely, as though she were so disgusted and ashamed of herself that she did not even want to touch her own skin. The mass of gold that was her hair, matted by her sweat, pressed to her face, some parts soaked through by her tears. Other strands of her hair were now sharing in the same fate as she sobbed miserably into the mattress. Ling watched her sob, feeling the lust ebb out of him like the way his seed oozed out from between her legs, strung with a few hints of blood. Even with all that lubrication, he had taken her so hard that he torn her a bit. Ling noted silently to himself to get some ointment for her later.

The girl’s body twitched then, and her body heaved as she began to retch. At first, Ling considered turning her head to the edge of the bed, but when he saw nothing come from her mouth but saliva and bile, he let her dry-heave onto his sheets and her hair. It was then that he wondered how long she had not been fed, considering how empty her stomach was. Reaching over, he pressed his hand to her belly, feeling its softness, estimating that she probably had not eaten in at least two days. To his surprise, she swatted his hand away, weakly, and continued to cough bile up, her disgust in him renewed with that touch. She’d be due for a cleaning tomorrow morning, and food.

Her lips moved after she coughed up whatever she could and in her tiny voice, she babbled. Ling strained to listen to her.

“I don’t know anything…” she repeated, though this time more to someone who was obviously not present in the room than it was to Ling, “I really don’t. I don’t. I was just studying, working for the military…” She hiccupped and retched again, curling tighter despite how her rawness protested, but her stomach argued that it needed more attention at the moment. Her arms encircled her stomach as it continued to churn out nothing.

“Why did they bring me here,” she continued, her words getting faster, “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just wrote up equations, and…” She placed one hand to her head, like someone had hit her there, her brows furrowing sharply.

“It hurts…” she whispered, “It hurts…”

Heavy eyelids fluttered and she finally slipped into unconsciousness. Ling’s brows knitted at her words and he moved over to inspect her head. Separating a few thick strands of hair to reach her scalp, he found, to his shock, a large scar there. No, in fact, it was too fresh to be a scar just yet, having been done only recently, as though someone had hit her with a blunt object, but it was also too old for it to have been what affected her movements, making her sluggish; that was done by drugs alone.

Just as quickly as his anger and distrust had come to him moments ago, Ling felt guilt.

She had been abducted. She had most likely not done this to herself but was instead experimented upon. She had been telling the truth.

But then there may have also been other possibilities and he was not about to give her all of the benefit of the doubt just yet. She could have still done this to herself but since human transmutation was illegal in Amestris, was beaten and taken here to be swept under the carpet. It could be anything.

Tired of thinking about it, Ling sighed and reached over the edge of the bed, picking up the high pillow he had dropped and placing her head onto it so that she was not sleeping in her own bile. He then pulled the covers over her and slipped off the bed to sit at his table, watching her as she mumbled for someone, a brother, in her sleep.


Illustration for this chapter. NOT WORKSAFE
 
 
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