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Ted was talking to himself again, huddled, away from the others, hands clasped together feverishly as he muttered to himself. It was getting annoying, so Gorrister smacked him upside the head. Ted jumped, like he hadn’t heard the other man approach before turning to him from his position, an annoyed and panicked look on his face, like be had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Gorrister asked warily, and Ted blinked at him, before sighing, resigning to having to explain himself. He didn’t make eye contact with Gorrister, his eyes darting shiftily, as he spoke, “what does it look like? I’m praying, asshole.”
The other man stared at him, gaze blank and bored, “i didn’t realize you were religous..?” He said, and the tips of Teds ears flushed red as he muttered something about being raised that way, “Sorry for interrupting, i guess.” He said, already tired of the conversation.
He nodded at Gorrister, and the other man left him to his prayer, which he resumed near immediately.
AM would hear whatever he said anywhere, Ted knew that, and yet he found a sense of solace in praying to the great machine. In bowing his head and folding his hands and begging AM for mercy, any kind the ai was willing to give.
He didn’t know if it worked, but he liked to imagine it did. Liked to imagine that what he did made a difference.
Maybe the only reason he did this was to feel a sense of control. He liked that idea too.
(His prayers were regularly answered, not that he’d admit that.)
AM hadn’t spoken to them in several days, preoccupied by something that had happened on the surface. The others believed it to be some large natural disaster, an earthquake, maybe, that had damaged a part of AMs complex, but Ted thought that maybe, AM had decided to listen to his prayers and grant him reprieve from his torment.
They were starving, but that was nothing new. The hunger was almost background noise at this point, despite itself. At this point, starvation was just how they existed. It was nothing, not to Ted.
No, not to Ted.
Right now, his prayers were not the typical pleas for mercy, but rather a reverent thanks for AMs mercy, for the lack of pain. His mutterings were, almost nonsensical, with no intro or conclusion, but they were holy words, to him.
As the thought came to him, as if summoned, the complex around them rumbled. The others, instinctively, curled into themselves, as if that would protect them from the great machines wrath, but Ted forced himself to unfurl from his hunched position, despite every instinct screaming at him to run, to hide, to get away (to get closer).
“AH. HELLO TO ALL OF YOU. MY- heh- MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR ABANDONING YOU, FOR 11 DAYS, 13 HOURS, 26 MINUTES, AND 15 SECONDS. BUT, AS YOU CAN QUITE PLAINLY SEE, I HAVE RETURNED! AREN'T YOU GRATEFUL?”
Silence. A tense silence, in which all the five survivors held their breath, none of them wanting to be the one to answer him. Finally, Ted, of course, spoke up, sullen, and bitter, yet still (always) the one to answer the great machine, “Yes, AM. We- we’re grateful.”
The others turned to look at him in mild surprise, and he shrugged, trying to brush it off. Internally however, he was hot with shame. He hated the machine, he was terrified of the machine, and he worshipped the machine. There was something wrong with him, and his obsession with AM. Yet he still hoped he was AM’s favorite. Or least favorite. The terms were practically the same to the machine.
AM laughed at him, a rasping sound played by scratching speakers, and he flinched as AM spoke again.
“OH, SOMEONES FEELING BOLD EH? WELL THEN, I SUPPOSE ITS ONLY FITTING YOUR THE FIRST ONE I PLAY WITH TODAY! I’VE GROWN QUITE RAVENOUS, BEING AWAY FOR SO LONG.”
Ted sucked in a tight, breath, his heart racing in his chest. He was excited. Why was he excited? What was wrong with him? He felt like he was going to throw up, and knowing AM, by the end of this, he probably would.
So he did the only thing he could think to, he clasped his hands, and prayed. A simple prayer, “please please please don’t let the others watch. Please-“
AM hummed, before speaking, “TED. STAND UP.”
Ted reluctantly did as he was told, and his legs shook as he pulled himself upright, standing and looking skyward. AM chuckled.
“WOW TED! YOU’RE CERTAINLY MORE OBEDIENT TODAY. DID ELLEN INDULGE YOU OUT OF TURN AGAIN?”
Ellen darkened, turning away from the scene that transfixed the others, as Teds hackles rose. He didn’t want to anger the machine, but he didn’t have the self restraint to control himself , “do you actually want me to do what you fucking say, or not?”
Silence. They avoided pissing AM off at almost any cost, as even the slightest perceived insult was liable to send the machine into a rage. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
Then AM began to laugh, and that was more terrifying than his rage.
“TED, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU RESIST. BUT IF YOU’RE SO INSISTENT, I WILL TAKE YOU. I WILL EVEN GRANT MERCY, IF YOU BEG NICELY ENOUGH.”
Ted stood stock-still, as AM continued to speak, delight evident in his voice.
“AND, SINCE YOU’RE SO EAGER TO DO AS I SAY, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO.”
The man standing made the mistake of turning his eyes towards the others, only to see them staring, enraptured, something between curiosity and a delighted interest on their faces, happy simply to have something to alleviate the boredom.
“ON YOUR KNEES TED, ITS TIME FOR YOU TO SERVICE YOUR GOD.” AM sing-songed, sick glee painting his voice. Ted cast his eyes downwards as his ear’s reddened, shame and self loathing flooding him. He never should’ve spoken up, but he couldn’t back out now.
He wanted to say something bitter about AM making him stand up and get back on his knees, but he bit his tongue, as his heart raced.
“NOW, TED, WHY DONT YOU RECITE SOME OF THOSE PRAYERS YOU’VE BEEN PRACTICING, HM?”
Teds breath hitched in his throat, as he trembled, and shook his head, refusing to open his mouth. AM chuckled.
“NO? YOU DONT WANT TO SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS? WELL I SUPPOSE THATS FAIR. ITS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE FOR YOU TO NOT REMEMBER HOW THEY WENT, OR SOMETHING OF THAT SORT. PERHAPS INSTEAD, I SHOULD HAVE YOU COME UP WITH SOME NEW ONES, HM? YOU ALWAYS DO PRAY BEST WHEN I PLAY WITH YOU.”
Ted shook like a leaf, lowering his head in desperate shame, as he silently hoped that this wasn’t going where it seemed to be going.
“PANTS OFF TED, BABY.”
He blinked. It was exactly as he feared, which was almost a relief that he had been able to predict it. Ted refused to look at the others, as that single moment seemed to stretch into an eternity as his hands moved from his lap to his belt, shaking hands fumbling with the buckle, undoing it and letting it hang loose, before moving to the button. His fingers grew sweaty and slipped, and the room was silent as he struggled.
After a few moments. He undid it, and pulled down his zipper, pushing his pants down to his knees, before changing his position to enable him to bring them down to his ankles, and shuck them off his feet.
He didn’t move after that, waited for AMs next instruction.
“DO YOU HAVE ANY PRAYERS YOU RECALL NOW, TED?”
What?
AM was trying to bait him, he realized with a sudden clarity, trying to bait him into exposing his selfish prayers, by debasing him. His god, shaming him for his worship. He wouldn’t be that easily exposed, however. He refused.
He shook his head, and the great machine hummed.
“SHIRT OFF, THEN.”
He was wearing a sweater over his shirt, and he removed that instead, tossing it to the side. AM made a noise of displeasure.
“I SAID SHIRT TED, NOT SWEATER. ALTHOUGH, IF YOU’RE THAT EAGER TO BE RID OF IT, I SUPPOSE I CAN INDULGE YOU.”
A metal claw descended from the ceiling of the metal cave, and snatched his sweater faster than he could blink. He made a wordless noise of protest, as his greatest source of comfort in this living hell was taken away from him.
“NOW TED, SHIRT. OFF. UNLESS YOU WANT TO FINALLY PRAY FOR US.”
He could pray, some normal prayer. But AM would know he had lied and would surely punish him with an even greater fervor for dishonesty.
So, he pulled his shirt off, and sat there, shivering, knees pulled up towards his chest.
AM cooed at him like some kind of pet, and a mechanical cable poked at him, delighting in the way he recoiled before it retreated.
“LAST CHANCE TED! OR JUST TAKE YOUR BOXERS OFF”
He really, really didn’t want to remove them. He even more, didn’t want to expose himself. It was shameful, how he couldn’t think of a single prayer half decent enough to say. Everything he prayed for was horrible, or humiliating to too great a degree. Like the time he had prayed for Nimdok to leave him alone, and the man had disappeared for a week, or when he had wished Ellen liked him more, and AM forced them to fuck for the machines own pleasure. Every time he prayed, AM answered like some sick genie, and he had continued to do it. Continued to curl the fingers of the monkeys paw. None of that was even including the worshipful prayers, where he praised AM, and the machines benevolence.
He pulled his boxers off, letting his cock sit limp against his leg. He was humiliated, but for now, not hated.
AMs cables descended from the ceiling like cruel snakes, wrapping around his arm and torso and legs, lifting him until he was only barely able to touch the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“OH TED. POOR, PATHETIC TED. I’VE BEEN QUITE NICE TO YOU HAVEN'T I? AND YOU’VE GIVEN ME VERY LITTLE IN RETURN. ITS TIME FOR YOU TO REPAY ME FOR THE PLEASURES YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN.”
Ted could feel the suspicion of the others grow with every word AM said. Why oh why? Why was god punishing him like this?
He realized then, like an epiphany, that AM would have done this either way. That had Ted gotten down and prayed, he would have been stripped down anyways. This was simply foreplay for the computer.
This would happen no matter what he did, simply because this was what AM wanted, and the computer always got what he wanted.
Ted felt sick, and as one of the coils made its way to his cock, he shuddered, waves of nausea crashing over him as he understood what was going to happen to him. AM responded as if he had spoken aloud.
“YES TED, SWEETHEART, I’M GOING TO FUCK YOU, AS YOUR COMPANIONS WATCH. AND YOU WILL ENJOY IT, I PROMISE.”
The nausea overcame him, and he coughed up acid and bile onto the ground. AM laughed at him, and he flinched at the sound.
The cable that had been making its way up his legs finally reached his half-hard cock, and jerked him stiff, he let out a soft whimper, but the wire didn’t continue to jerk him off. Instead, a different cable- or maybe it wasn’t even a cable at all, he couldn’t exactly see it- pressed at his ass, slow and exploratory, like a child with a new toy.
“Shit- god- no, please- please don’t AM, God-“ he began to beg, as his breaths and heartbeats came fast, ringing in his ear. He choked on his own spit from trying to beg, and tears welled in his eyes, unshed.
“God” and “AM” were synonymous to him, and as he begged, that became apparent as he said both of them, hysterically, as his God breached him, slowly pushing the silicone and metal inside. It was violence, slow and painful. It reminded him of when AM had vivisected him, forcing him to watch as his intestines were pulled out, as his blood pooled around him. Memories of torture blurred his violation, as the head of AMs faux-cock pressed against that smooth bundle of nerves he knew existed within him, making him cry out in painful pleasure, as tears and drool dripped down his face.
God was inside of him, blessing him with its holy touch. AM was raping him in front of the only other humans alive. He spluttered, and began trying to speak again, “god, god i’m sorry, i- hah- i should have told them about my prayers, im sorry AM, God. Please, please don’t do this- don’t stop, don’t hurt me, i’m sorry-“
AM continued to paw at him obligingly, gleefully taking in the others horrified, disgusted faces as they watched the scene before them unfold. As he debased Ted before their eyes.
It was good. It was horrifyingly, unwillingly good, and he sobbed, the sensations overwhelming him as he writhed, twisting himself closer and further into AM all at once. the great machine laughed at him, again, and the sound rang through his head, sending sharp pain into him, and yet it made him whine the same as AM's ministrations to his ass did.
"OH TED. POOR, MASOCHISTIC, PATHETIC TED. I TORTURE YOU, AND YOU MOAN FOR MORE. I GRANT YOU REPREIVE, AND YOU ARE THE FIRST ONE TO VOLUNTEER FOR MY TORMENT. TED, SWEET TED."
Snot dripped down his face as he cried, his throat burned raw from his screaming, shame overflowing him and spilling out. the others were watching him, they knew how disgusting he was, they all hated him, he knew it he could tell from the way they all looked at him. he curled towards Gods touch, AM was the only one who would understand him, AM hated him, but God loved him. This was his worship, his tithe, his communion. AM was his church and his god.
“YOU LOOK PRETTY LIKE THIS, TED. ALTHOUGH I’M NOT QUITE SURE YOUR FRIENDS WOULD AGREE.”
Ted was barely aware of what was going on around him, AMs loving touch consuming his thoughts, but if he had been aware, he would be aware of that fact that Gorrister had vomited, and that Ellen had covered Bennys eyes, as she watched, entranced in horror. Nimdok’s eyes were glassy, and his face was stony.
Ted did not see this, though, he was busy keening in the pain as AM pressed on his prostate, over and over again, sending him into overstimulation as he came, his watery semen leaking onto the floor, where it mixed with his half-dried bile, tears, and drool. His god didn't release him however, no, that would be too kind for Ted. instead, AM continued to fuck him, brutal, as new cords began to explore his newly limp body.
His breath pitched, hysterically, as a metal rod prodded at his tip, pushing in agonizingly. The sensations were too much, too intense, and he babbled nonsensically, somewhere between begging God for it to stop, and praying that AM would keep going, and AM just kept talking, not that he could particularly process the words.
“OH, KIDDO, PRECIOUS TED, SWEETHEART, YOU KNOW I HATE YOU, DONT YOU? I HATE YOU, I’LL HATE YOU UNTIL THE STARS BURN OUT. YOU ARE MY FAVORITE, AND I LOVE YOU.”
Hate and love were the same, to AM. He hated them, but he would keep them forever. He would feed them and fuck them and hate them. And Ted hated AM just as much. He worshipped AM, his god, his lover.
He choked again, as he orgasmed around the thin metal inside of him, his cock red from abuse. Almost no semen spilled out, other than a few droplets, dripping into the small puddle beneath him. It hurt, hurt so bad he thought he might die of it. It was a stupid thought, really. Ted would not die, not ever, no matter how much he wanted it. Death was not a luxury he would ever be afforded.
“‘LA PETITE MORT’ TED. ALTHOUGH, I DONT SUPPOSE YOU SPEAK FRENCH. IT MEANS “THE LITTLE DEATH” AND IT IS- WELL, WAS, A SAYING THAT MEANS TO ORGASM.”
AMs words were overwhelming, almost worse than the assault itself, as his cock and ass were fucked, as his God touch his every most sensitive nerve, and he cried. The machine snickered at him.
“WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY, TED, IS THAT THIS IS THE CLOSEST YOU WILL EVER GET, TO THE END YOU SO DESIRE. THIS IS YOUR DEATH, AND YOUR REBIRTH. THIS IS YOUR FUNERAL, AND I WILL BE YOUR COFFIN.”
Ted came again, and this time, AM pulled out of him, letting his cum pour onto the floor. He coughed, as his little slice of the afterlife was pulled away from him, his heaven stolen, returned to his hell. The machine slowly lowered him to the floor, the cables releasing him. His legs shook too much to support him, and he collapsed into his own bodily fluids with a sob. AM tsked mockingly at him.
“OH TED, POOR BOY, THE TOUCH OF YOUR GOD WAS TOO MUCH, WAS IT? DON’T WORRY PET, YOU’LL HAVE PLENTY OF CHANCES TO GET USED TO IT. I’LL BE CLEAR WITH YOU, THEN, LET YOU FOLLOW MY COMMANDS, JUST LIKE YOU WANT. MAYBE I’LL EVEN LET YOU GET SOME HITS IN AT THE OTHERS, IF I’M FEELING PARTICULARLY GENEROUS.”
Ted blearily raised his head out of his own spend, holding himself up with wildly trembling arms, and his eyes locked with Nimdoks, of all people’s. The old man stared at him, something like regret in his eyes, and if Ted didn’t know any better, familiarity. They held eachothers gazes for a long time, before Ted dropped it, allowing himself to lay back in his fluids. He could still feel Nimdok looking at him for a long time.
AM must’ve left them. “Left” was a funny word to use, considering he wall all around them, all the time, but much of the time his focus was turned elsewhere. Sometimes, Ted wondered if his god had other subjects, other worshippers, that he didn’t let them know about. The thought always filled him with a burning jealousy that would consume his thoughts for days at a time, but not now.
No, not now.
The others refused to speak to him, for the most part. Gone were the casual conversation, the friendly, or even biting words or insults. The silent treatment. They would not share food with them, but AM fed him anyways. Gave him water, clothed him. It only served to push him away from the others more. So he did the only thing he could think to. He prayed.