They were in her room, on her bed. She felt nauseous, like she was going to puke at any moment due to her nerves. All in the course of a day, she went from hating him, to sympathizing with him, to wanting him more than anything. Maybe it was her wanting him to get her, to make him understand her love of fear and her fear of love. In the top drawer of her nightstand was a wrap-like container with multiple syringes. Each one was different in intensity and duration.
For that night she’d only want one that lasted a few hours.
The only light came from a red, neon sign outside her window, which sat between the two apartment buildings. It hardly ever bothered Cat, but that night it set the mood more than anything. Her fan whirred loudly, but kept the room cool enough while they went at it. When they got back to her apartment, they wasted no time and went straight to her bedroom. It went according to plan for her. She would have control, and he wouldn’t have enough time to drug her drinks if they weren’t sitting around and talking. She made sure not to touch the rest of her drink at the restaurant when she came back from the bathroom, not wanting to risk giving up control.
She was on top of him now, her dress was on the floor, as were her shoes. His shirt was unbuttoned and his belt was with her dress and their shoes. Her lips were on his, dancing to an almost feverish rhythm that made him question her intentions. She was almost too willing to sleep with him, and that was putting him on edge. Her hands danced along his chest and made their way up to the metal bedpost. She was grabbing something, but he couldn’t see this. It was only when a silk-like fabric was draped over his eyes that he realized what she was doing.
Her hands were wrapped around his wrists, pinning them down with all her weight so he wouldn’t be tempted to take off the blindfold. She needed time, a moment to think for herself, a moment to calm down.
“What’s the deal with this?” He asked, genuinely interested in what she was doing.
“When I get up, don’t move. Keep the blindfold on, I got a surprise.” She whispered in his ear before leaning back. He laid perfectly still, grateful that he wasn’t tied to the bed (yet) cause he was sure she’d leave him there if he was.
Quietly, she slid the drawer open and grabbed the container with both hands, then she went to her wardrobe. She did have something that she wanted to wear, but it was more for her than him. She didn’t want to go under the covers, and she didn’t want her whole lower half exposed, where anyone from the next apartment building could see because her curtains were translucent.
Now she carried a silk lingerie nightgown, and the syringes, and she carried them into the bathroom. She placed the items on the counter and glanced at herself in the mirror. She could hear her heart beating, and it practically felt like it’d break through her chest at any moment. Her lipstick was visibly smeared, but she knew that. If she looked at Trager in the other room she’d see that lovely burgundy shade all over his mouth and neck. Her mascara ran slightly, but she liked how it looked, and she wondered how that would look on the toxins.
She slid her panties down her legs, the lace balled up in her hand as she considered using them to tie him to the bed. Then, she pulled the plum colored dress over her head and inspected how she looked. Her breasts looked much fuller than they normally did in that dress, but that was mostly due to the bra she kept on underneath. In her right hand was a syringe full of her fear toxin, one that would last an hour. It wasn’t like what she promised before - he would be fine by the next day, and at most he’d be a bit scarred from the experience.
She left the bathroom, syringe and underwear in her hands.
He jumped slightly as she climbed back on top of him, though this time her hands quickly made their way to the buttons of his pants, which she undid and pulled down with little resistance from him. In fact, a smirk was on his lips as he waited for her to take the blindfold off. She ignored what he wanted for a moment, instead choosing to sit on his stomach for a moment while she bound his hands together and tied them to the headboard. A breathy laugh escaped from him as he realized what she was doing, though he was anxious about it. He was tied up now, not wearing pants or underwear, she could leave him there and ridicule him if she wanted to, but she wasn’t going to. She leaned closer to his ear, and whispered something to him, it was so quiet he couldn’t really hear her, but he understood when he felt the sharp pinch and warmth spread throughout his neck.
“What the fuck-” He was cut off as she slid down his length, groaning slightly at the sensation. She watched as he tried to move his arms, and gave an open mouthed smile. She was letting out shaky breaths as she moved up and down, enjoying herself for a moment before deciding to take the blindfold off of him.
His brown eyes were wide, but he wasn’t showing any of the signs that the toxin was kicking in. She cupped his cheek, stopping her movement for a moment to explain herself. The act was almost tender, despite what she had done.
“Don’t worry, it won’t last forever.” She panted, rubbing her thumb along his cheek. “I’ve been interested in how this works during intercourse, and you’re the perfect test subject. I can’t do this with the patients at the asylum, and quite frankly I don’t want to. Truth be told, fear gets me hot.” She admitted before grinding down on him again, and there was a shift in his eyes. First, it was confusion, then a brief flash of anger that was quickly overtaken by lust again. He wasn’t fond of the idea of being under the influence of her fear drugs during sex, but he couldn’t help but be completely into her. Only she could do such a fucked up thing and he’d be fine with it.
She could see when the toxin finally set in, mostly because he seemed to be completely out of it as she rode him. He was breathing heavily, holding back screams of fear but also groaning in pleasure. She wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but the look in his eyes was absolutely delicious, and she couldn’t help but go faster.
It felt as if the stars were aligning - no - it felt like stars were colliding, exploding. She never thought she’d find any pleasure in being with him, yet there she was. She leaned down, smashing her lips into his again and shoving her tongue into his mouth. She loved him, as much as she hated to admit it. The hatred she felt for him was merely a defense she had, something to avoid coming to terms with her fears, and she got drunk off of it. Watching him squirm under her, his eyes wide with fear and his arms pulling slightly on his bindings.
She was getting close, and she knew she wouldn’t last longer than a minute. She leaned forward and untied him, and he practically lunged forward. Nerves took over as she realized that the toxins could elicit a violent response, but he didn’t do anything to hurt her. He pulled her close, hugging her to his body and burying his head in the crook of her neck, thrusting into her faster than she anticipated. She threw her head back, finally coming undone as her hands raked down his back, her nails digging into his flesh.
A few more minutes passed before he let out a strained groan, finishing inside her before collapsing back onto the pillows. His eyes, from what she could see, had returned back to normal, and she wondered if he had sweated out the toxins. She didn’t realize that might have been possible, and now she had something new to study.
She climbed off of him, and instead chose to curl up next to him. He was warm, and his skin was damp, which only cemented her opinion further. He definitely flushed the toxin from his system, probably in more ways than just one. It hadn’t been an hour yet, she realized their activities had just barely reached fifty minutes.
“I…” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. He just stared at the ceiling, as if he was trying to piece his mind back together. She stared up at him, her eyes glossed over with exhaustion.
“That was… something.” He was quiet, quieter than she’d ever heard him before. When they were alone, she found that he was a lot quieter. He was normally a lot more boisterous in public, like he had a point to prove and an act to keep up. She found that she preferred him in private.
“Might even be better than sex on cocaine.” He joked, smiling down at her, but he was shocked to find her seemingly asleep already. He hoped he wasn’t just some experiment for her. For once, he felt something for someone else. It wasn’t like before, where he wasn’t afraid to ruin whatever potential relationship he had in order to sleep with someone. It wasn’t that Cat had changed him, if anything, she sparked something new in him. He had a respect for her, and after what she pulled earlier in the night, that respect grew. She was just as unhinged as he was, and he loved every second of it. He knew she wouldn’t be thrilled about him staying the night, but he didn’t want to leave.
He glanced at the empty syringe on her nightstand, then felt at the small welt on his neck. He couldn’t believe she did that, but in the end he couldn’t be surprised.