AN – I've been mulling around a kidnap, torture, rape and experiment idea for the past few days. Here's a drabble from the inside of my dirty ass mind.


Day…who gives a fuck, it's over a week.

I don't know what time it is, I haven't seen a clock in hours.

My chest itches terribly from the scabbing, but the restraints are keeping me down – as is the paralytic they give me to sleep. I guess that first night really scared them. So, every day since, I've been awake in a body that isn't. I can't feel anything. I can't feel the seeping from my reactor port, I can't feel the needles jammed into my arms, and I certainly can't feel the bruises all over my hips, ass, knees, and face.

But I know all of those things are there.

Judging by the last however many days, it's around 9am. They come to get me for more testing at 10am, and I'm given my sedative shot at 11 pm. I get shots through the night so I'll wake up at 9 enough for them to check me and haul me off at ten.

I'm going to die here. I'm going to die 'in the name of science' according to Dr. Quack or whatever the fuck his name is. I can't hear him or see him without seething anger running through me. That was probably why they started giving me the paralytic. One try at killing a man and everyone gets butthurt about it.

For a medical facility, it sure has lousy service. I can hear the nurse's heels clicking as she walks down the stained concrete floor before turning in here and walking over to my side. She has on some sickly sweet perfume that probably cost her 6 bucks at Wal-Mart. I always get the same girl in the mornings. I want so badly to know what she looks like. Is she at least attractive? Does she at least care that the man she's lowering the dosage on is in terrible pain, danger, and need of a real woman?

She knows exactly who she works for. She probably knows every crazy thing they've done to me. I'm sure there's a file somewhere with every little notation on the procedures to study how my chest piece works, including how it was installed since they love to remove the cylinder from my chest.

She actually touches me. Her skin is soft, just like her touch. Her fingers were thin, frail, and shaky. Young, thin…and not wanting to be around me.

She taps a few reflex points and I react. I guess they're trying to make sure I'm still alive inside this non-moving body. It's their fault.

Something stings in the crook of my arm – a needle, yanking blood out. Every morning the same things. Checking levels, probably to make sure that infection I had for days is done. I'm able to think coherently – I'm pretty sure I'm not feverish anymore.

"You're doing better, Mr. Stark." She says quietly as I feel one needle leave, and another enter at my shoulder level. An injection of something. I'd be surprised if it wasn't more paralytic.

But it isn't. It's some cleaner. My moving eyes aren't under my eyelids anymore. I can move my arm under the tight leather restraint. My eyes are open, and I can see the florescent lights above.

She's cute. Short, thin, dark-headed and young. All things I guessed from her voice. She has this look in her eyes like she actually cares what happens to me. How can she – when I'm laying in this bed, strapped down and used as an experiment for locked up scientists.

Before anything else happens, she's on top of me in the bed. I try to open my mouth, but she's quick to shove a towel in my mouth. My bruised and sore body resists and only the towel stifles the painful groan I emit. God, get off of me. My thighs are killing me, and I don't even know why.

"Look, I know about you...and your indiscretions. It's been a few days…okay, months, but who's counting…and I really just need something, and the Doctor said I could do whatever I wanted…"

…No fucking way.

This chick is about to take advantage of me.

And I'm strapped to a hospital bed.

And being experimented on.

Okay, well, at least today it's a hot chick.

She has the answer she needs. Even sore and in some pain, I still was able to get a raging boner. Sex with a woman – when was the last time I had that? Sure, I'd been…relieved in the past few days…but I'm not talking about that.

It took me a moment to realize what the pain was that I was feeling in my cock was the catheter that I had been fitted with for days. But, since she was the nurse, she was quick to remove it. That fucking hurt, but it felt so nice to not have something jammed down my urethra.

I let go. Sure, I was technically being raped by…a hot nurse…but I would take this over what else I had been given for the past week. What else am I going to do? Fight by throwing myself against the straps on my arms, legs and around my torso when I don't even have the strength to complain?

It was just like every other one night stand I had before the cave and the suit. She moved her panties over and plunged herself down on me once my pants were pulled down themselves. God how good it felt to actually be cared for like I should be. My eyes were practically in the back of my head. How long can I hold out? How do I tell her I'm close? Does it matter? …Is she trying to get pregnant off of me and get money out of it later? There are too many thoughts, too many ideas – just enjoy the sex. What little there probably will be.

This isn't about me – it's about what she wants. It's about this woman using a warm-blooded guy to get off. It wouldn't matter if it was me or another guy that these scientists wanted to shock with car batteries to see how it effects the movement of shrapnel in arteries.

It's like lightning touching every part of me, but at least this lightning is warming and makes me shiver in a good way. She's moaning quietly, but riding like I'm Seabiscuit in the Kentucky Derby.

Needless to say, I'm gone to lala land within minutes, and so is she.

She doesn't complain that I came inside her. She only takes the towel from my mouth so I can regain my breath and she can clean up herself, then me. It's a little easier with me because I wasn't wearing much in the first place. Scrub pants are quick to pull down and pull up. I get a wipe with a wet towel, a dry towel, then my catheter is reinserted (with much groaning and wriggling from me) and she's gone in minutes. No words, no warmth, no nothing.

Like a real honest to god rape.

Didn't feel like one though.

Even though all I can think of is how much I miss a certain red head with just the right amount of freckles and this look in her cornflower blue eyes…

And how I just cheated on her, even though I had no choice in the matter.

I don't even notice that when the other nurses come to wheel me off to my daily torture, I haven't stopped crying. Or when they stick the needle in my neck, and within seconds I'm out all over again.