Boredom took Roy by surprise. He expected to hurt, and wasn't disappointed to find every muscle in his body aching and tired as if from intense and prolonged exercise. He was expecting that the minor bits of cruelty would annoy him. The burns on his shoulders had developed small tender blisters that made their presence known every time he tried to shift position. But being bored—no he hadn't expected that.
Roy lay still after the Elric boys left for breakfast. His hands sweated and itched in their bags, but it was simply too much effort and too pointless to try and relieve that discomfort. The long tail brushed against his skin in a way that tickled horribly. The skin of his thighs also prickled and tugged where semen had been allowed to dry on them. The best Roy could do was gingerly rub his legs against each other, but every movement seemed to rock the phallus inside him, causing sensations that were disturbingly both painful and ever so slightly pleasurable.
Roy wondered if that last effect was a lingering result of the training Greed had given him the night before. If so, perhaps he could use this psychological quirk to forward his own aims.
"Pain is pleasure," Roy whispered under his breath. He started to pull himself to his knees, then stopped with a hiss when pain firmly remained pain. Shit, no, he didn't want to move.
So he was left with nothing but the blank walls to stare at, and even with all the discomforts, he was undeniably bored.
He wondered what Riza would be thinking. She would have surely noted how late he was. Had an investigation into his disappearance started yet? Or would they simply assume he was playing hooky the way he had a couple of times in the past. How long would it take her to put together his disappearance with the assignment?
Probably no time at all. Hawkeye was sharp. Perhaps Roy would hear the soldiers raiding the place soon.
But how would they find this farmhouse? Though Roy had been drugged and his mind not all there, he remembered being in a car for a rather long time. The country was a large place. How long would it take for them to discover him?
No he'd have to save himself somehow. Roy kicked his foot a little and heard the chain rattle against the floor. The chain, the locked door, the restraints, even the dildo served to keep him helpless. There was no avoiding the fact that he was going to need help to get away. But the Elric boys seemed to have lost their will to fight.
Every way seemed barred. He was stuck with no way out, and even looking optimistically at the situation, it seemed likely that his captivity would end with his death, probably within the next 24 hours.
Roy's stomach squirmed with fear, but the logical part of his brain wouldn't stop. Greed had his revenge, from this point on Roy was a liability. The smart thing for Greed to do would be to kill Roy and dump his body somewhere public. Though Roy wanted to believe that the justice arm of the military would continue to pursue Greed with the same vigor once his body was accounted for, the truth was, once the rescue phase of the operation was over, a lot of the push to find Greed would be gone. If Greed escaped the country, the investigation would be all but stopped. Amestris was simply not on good enough relations with its neighbors for joint military efforts.
Greed was going to win.
Best not to think of that. He wasn't going to die. He would bide his time and when an opportunity showed itself, he was going to leap on it. In the mean time, he needed to think of something else.
After what seemed like forever, but was more likely about an hour Roy heard footsteps coming up the stairs again. He flinched. No not again, not so soon. The door opened up and Al and Ed walked in. Behind them, looming over them, was Greed.
"I'm not hungry," Roy said. His stomach immediately betrayed him with a loud squeal that made the boys laugh.
Greed sat on the corner of the bed and ran his fingers down Roy's back, petting him. "No one goes hungry in my house, Roy."
Roy hissed as Greed's hands closed over his shoulders, rubbing against the tiny blisters. Suddenly, there was pressure and Roy felt himself being lifted up and pulled off the bed. The dildo inside of him jostled about and Roy gave out a little cry of pain as he tightened up yet again around the intrusion. After a painful few seconds Roy found himself kneeling on the floor next to the bed. The position was similar to the one Ed had forced on him when he'd woken up.
No—not already. Please, thought Roy.
Greed stroked his face thoughtfully, "You are kind of a mess, Roy. Your hair could use a comb, and your face needs to be shaved." Greed's finger strayed across his mouth. "You smell. I imagine we should brush your teeth and bathe you. But food first. Who would you prefer to feed you? Ed or Al?"
"Ed," said Roy without hesitation.
Al sighed a bit. Ed picked the tray up off the little table and put it down on the floor next to Roy.
"Please untie my hands, sir" said Roy. "I promise I won't do anything"
Greed sighed. "Of course you would. You are nowhere near tamed yet."
Tamed. Roy's stomach tightened at the word, and yet it was strangely hopeful. If Greed was planning on taming him, then he probably wasn't planning on killing him immediately.
But then, if he wasn't going to be killed, that meant that Roy would be facing more humiliation. More abuse. More rape. The thought sent an unwelcome surge of adrenaline through his body, and he shuddered violently.
"Would you like to drink first?" asked Ed, bringing him out of his thoughts.
Roy shook his head. Then stared as Ed dipped a spoon into oatmeal. Roy had never liked oatmeal. Even sweetened it tasted mealy and bland. Ed reached out with the spoon and placed it by Roy's lips.
Something about the indignity of the situation and the intense scrutiny of Greed and Al made Roy's will falter. Though he had intended on being cooperative and luring everyone into a false complacency, every fiber of his being rebelled against that spoon, and so Ed poked against Roy's closed lips and managed only to smear the stuff around chin.
"Eat," said Greed.
"I—" Roy began fully expecting to be able to finish his sentence don't like oatmeal , but was stopped when Ed took advantage of his open mouth to slip the spoon in. Suddenly Roy had a mouthful of food to contend with. There wasn't much to do but to work it around in his mouth and try to swallow it.
Ed looked pleased and went for another spoonful. Greed smiled.
Humiliated Roy glared at Ed. "Just eat it," whispered Ed. "It's better to eat it voluntarily than to be force fed."
It was an awkward dance with the spoon shoving in too far at times, and sometimes not waiting until Roy had opened his lips enough. Roy could feel it sticking and clinging to his lips and cheeks and chin, where it slopped over. Greed just seemed to enjoy the show. Finally Ed reached up with a napkin and wiped Roy's face clean.
"Peaches now," said Greed, "By hand."
Ed carefully picked up a slippery peach slice in his left hand and brought it to Roy's lips. This time not only the fruit but the fingers intruded on his mouth. Ed smiled as Roy's tongue inevitably swept over his fingers.
Oh, god, no. This was sex again. How much more would Greed put him through. Ed's smile faded and his eyes grew strangely intense, as if he were trying to say something to Roy, but not able to use words.
"Feed him another," purred Greed.
Again, the fruit slipped sweetly passed his lips, and those fingers lingered in his mouth long past the point of utility. Roy tried to shove them out with his tongue, but caught the ever so slight shaking of Ed's head.
I have to give in. I have to do this. The more I fight the worse it will be. Fighting gets me nothing. Fuck, thought Roy. I'm doing Greed's job for him. I'm fucking making it easy on him. I'm damned, completely damned. There is no sane course of action.
No sane one, but perhaps an easy one.
Roy sucked the fingers and peach. Ed's eyes relaxed and just the faintest smile touched the corners of his lips. Approval. Finally something to cling to. Ed's approval was a goal. Ed knew what he was doing. Pleasing Ed didn't kill Roy's soul.
Ed wanted to turn this into sex. It was Ed's backwards way of trying to help because he knew that as long as Greed wanted Roy, he wasn't going to kill Roy. And it was working. Ed fed him another peach, and God help him Roy tried his best to make it look sexy, like it were some form of bedroom game that he was playing, that the bonds were merely fetishes.
"The two of you look beautiful together," said Greed, reaching down to stroke Roy's chest. "It's hard to watch you without wanting to take you."
Sure enough that hard grip turned him around and Roy found himself turned face first into Greed's crotch. Greed unzipped his pants and drew out his cock. One hand pressed the slick tip against his lips while the other hand pressed Roy's head in.
Roy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It would be just like this morning. He could do it. It wasn't that hard.
It was nothing like that morning. Ed had supported him but not forced him. Greed pulled him down, and it was all Roy could do not to gag and throw up.
Oddly enough it was the same military discipline that once helped him survive in the rubble of Ishbal that came to his rescue now. His mouth gradually relaxed into the mechanics. Pain, fear, acts that tore at the soul, they were all a part of war.
He'd been here before, in a way. He'd made it through. He could do it again.
Roy remembered his first day of war. He was twenty-one, and he could still feel the weight of his alchemists watch in his pocket. All of the other soldiers in his unit were privates, in their teens and, most of them gave off an aura of equal parts virginity and invincibility. He remembered looking from one acne blemished face to another and feeling his stomach sink. These people expected him to lead them, as if his own non-existent combat experience was somehow superior to their own.
They had their orders, to escort a truck full of food from the train station to where the rest of the platoon were bivouacked. The truck moved slowly through narrow streets that stunk of sewage and garbage and decay. Roy walked along the side of truck, his eyes scanning the bullet-pocked buildings for the enemy. His people ranged out ahead and behind, their guns at the ready, their eyes wide and intense.
The first bullet sent everyone scrambling. They couldn't tell where it had come from so they simply scattered to whatever looked like cover. Several soldiers actually ducked under the chassis of the moving truck. Roy remembered how the men and women looked at him for directions, and at that moment he had no idea what he was doing.
Then one of his people pointed up to a rooftop. Roy looked. He raised his fingers and snapped, and the sound of screams had actually felt good. Roy remembered how savagely pleased he'd been that he'd been the one to get the guy down, and had proved himself in front of everyone.
It was only after the person went quiet that the impact of what Roy had done sank into his soul. He'd just killed a person. He was a murderer. Roy suddenly wanted to vomit, as though by emptying his stomach he could somehow purge the self-hate that filled him.
"Put aside what your mama told you, Mustang" his commanding officer told him later. "She didn't know crap about war. Fuck morality. This is about getting the job done."
Let it go, Roy thought to himself as Greed fucked himself in and out of Roy's mouth. Let go of the emotions. Fuck morality, fuck right and wrong, fuck good and bad, and just get the job done. The job was to get this blowjob over with. He could do it.
With a feeling of detachment, Roy did his job. His job was to cover his teeth, and take the intruder as deeply as possible. It was to apply pressure, to suck, to bob his head in time with the pull on his hair. It was just a physical act, like scrubbing a pot or digging a ditch.
"Yes," said Greed. "You're starting to get it. A little more practice and you'll be there."
Suddenly Roy choked. He had a vivid memory of Ed telling him how he'd been forced to suck off Greed's entire family. He shuddered. He didn't want that.
Greed withdrew impatiently. "That wasn't permission to get sloppy. Try again."
"I'm sorry, sir," muttered Roy, and he opened his mouth and tried again. He could do this. Just a job. Yes. Just like scrubbing a pot or digging a latrine or—
Pulling a trigger.
They say that the first kill is always the hardest, but not for Roy. No the hardest came two years later, well after he'd lost count of the number of men women, and even children who'd fallen to his fingers. They'd all had guns. Even the youngest of them had forced Roy to choose between his life and theirs. It was not a hard decision Roy found.
He no longer thought about those he killed as people. He didn't know any of them. They were the Enemy. Human shaped, but not really human. They were dangerous and the faster they went down, the less likely they'd kill one of the good guys. Roy's heart had grown hard, his mind held no room for doubt, his soul lay well protected behind an undying faith that he was doing what was best for his country.
This assignment shattered everything.
Roy walked through the open hospital ward, the smell of disinfectants and sickness mingling in his nose, trying desperately not to think of what he was going to do. Dr. Rockbell smiled at him and pointed out the beds where the enemy lay, healing, and the look of utter innocence on the doctor's face brought a painful stab of guilt.
"You see, Major Mustang," Dr. Rockbell said. "It's my wife and my belief that this whole war is simply a misunderstanding. A case of culture shock."
Roy looked at the beds where young injured ishballen men glared at him with hate.
"What my wife and I are doing is a show of goodwill," the doctor continued. "If we can just prove that we can be friends, that we can offer these people something other than death and destruction, we can have some ground for a truce. This war can end."
Shut up, thought Roy. Don't you understand? Don't you see you are aiding the enemy? Don't you see you are blurring the lines between us and them?
Dr. Rockbell, with complete innocence led him back to the office, where his wife sat at a desk. "We are so glad that the military has finally taken an interest in our attempts to foster peace," he went on.
"Yes," said Roy, somewhat faintly. "They are interested. They would like you to stop." Please agree, thought Roy.
"They what?" asked Rockbell's wife. Both doctors stared at him as though he'd said something incomprehensible. "We can't do that!"
Roy grew desparate. These doctors weren't enemy. These were the good guys, they were unarmed, they were moral and upstanding. Mustang argued using every bit of wit he possessed, but these weren't 18-year-old recruits who fell for slogans. They were mature, intelligent doctors, and they parried his arguments with ease and tore holes through his logic. They had to yeild. They had to!
Mr. Rockbell reached over and picked a picture up off the desk. "You see her?" He pointed to a little blond girl in the picture. "That's our daughter. The sooner this war ends, the sooner my wife and I can go back to her. I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe in our mission."
"We are committed," said Mrs. Rockbell. "Nothing you say will change our minds."
Roy looked into their stubborn, sky-blue eyes and felt his soul being torn apart. "Don't make me," he'd begged them, but they didn't understand. Even when he brought out his gun and leveled it at them, they STILL didn't understand.
"I can tell you are a moral person," Mr. Rockbell said, softly, in a voice that had probably talked many a scared Ishballen patient down. "You aren't evil. You won't pull the trigger. Your hand is shaking."
Roy's hand was shaking, but not enough. Not nearly enough. The noise and shock of the shot surprised Roy as much as it had the doctors.
Without warning, Greed pulled his cock from Roy's mouth. A second later hot come spurted against his face. Roy screwed his eyes shut and shuddered. He felt the warm thick fluid drip down his cheeks and off his chin. It coated his eyelashes. It felt revolting.
"Oh my, what a mess you are," Greed chuckled. "I think I like this look on you. Maybe I'll let you stay like this a while, hmmm? Would you like that?"
Greed was expecting a response, so Roy said, "No, sir." A trace of the homunculus' sperm penetrated his mouth. It's bitter flavor matched Roy's mood well.
Roy felt Greed's hand stroking his hair softly. "What would you like, Roy?"
"Sir, would—would someone wipe my face, please?"
"Very polite. Ed?" Roy felt Greed shift and then push him around. A moment later cloth wiped each eyelid before wiping down the rest of his face. Carefully Roy dared open his lids.
The come stung, and his lashes were still clumped with the sticky substance.
"You make a good whore, Roy," said Greed.
There was a sudden pounding of feet outside the door to the room. Roy turned and saw Law enter. The large chimera barely afforded Roy a glance. "Sir," he said. "We got a phone call."
"You answered the phone?" said Greed abruptly standing up.
"I thought it might be Sloth," said Law apologetically. The hulk hunched and seemed to be smaller.
"Who was it?" asked Greed.
"Someone called Dante."
Greed's face froze in a look of horror. "Fuck."
"I—she seemed to know you. I thought she might be one of your people."
"What did that bitch say," Greed asked. "Did she say anything about Roy."
Law shook his head. "No, sir. She said she wanted you to call her back. Is she with the military?"
"She fucking IS the military." Greed snarled back.
"I'm sorry sir, I didn't know."
Greed paced the room twice, then aimed a kick at the box of sex toys by the nightstand. The box slid across the narrow room. "God Damn Fucking BITCH," he yelled. Then he stopped and wiped his mouth with his long fingers.
"Let me go," said Roy. "You've had your revenge. Trust me, I will never cross paths with you again. The military won't be as interested in you, once I'm no longer your hostage."
Greed looked down at Roy and then shook his head, snorting. "You aren't my hostage, Roy. You are my POSSESSION. And my revenge is not satisfied until I say it is." Greed aimed a kick at his side, but then turned at the last moment and kicked the air instead. "No. That bitch isn't after you, Roy. She's after me."
"Sir," said Law. "Sloth should have acquired a new place for us by now. You could go. We'll clean up here and—"
Greed shook his head. "We can't run. That fucking bitch has Pride." It took Roy a moment to realize that Greed was talking about another homunculus and not an emotion. "She'll find me. It doesn't matter where I go. Fuck!" Greed spun around and kicked the box again. "I'm not going to let that bitch seal me again."
There was a long silence during which no one dared say anything.
"Roy," said Greed. "It's too fucking bad for you that I didn't do my homework on you before we met,." Greed knelt down next to Mustang and grabbed his chin in a hard grip. "But better late than never, eh? You are an alchemist. A good one. A powerful one. I'll tell you what. You be a good boy and please me and maybe I'll let you pay off some of your debt with your mind instead of your body."
"You want me to do alchemy for you?" Roy's heart skipped a beat. If he had alchemy, he could escape.
Greed snorted. "We'll see. We'll see. If you can convince me you are Family." Greed gave Roy's face a light slap and he stood up, shaking his head. "Fuck. I'm getting fucking desperate here."
Again there was silence while the homunculus seemed to struggle with his thoughts.
"I'll call her," said Greed suddenly. "But first, Roy, stand up."
Roy struggled to his feet with difficulty. His legs prickled from kneeling so long and they felt floppy and weak. Greed took a bit of pity on him and grabbed him under his armpits, hoisting him up. "You were a good whore today, Roy. That deserves some reward." He reached down and began unsnapping the harness around Roy's hips. Roy hissed as the phallus jerked around, then was roughly pulled free of his body. The cessation of pain was heady.
Greed tossed the rig onto Ed and Al's bed. There was blood on the phallus.
The homunculus turned to Al and Ed. "Take Roy down to the bathroom and bathe him. You can take that thing off his ankle, but don't release his hands. Wash him nice and well for me. Brush his teeth. Shave him. Everything but his head." Greed smiled an oddly gentle smile at Roy. "Nice and smooth like a new born baby. That's what you are. New born to my family."
Then he spun around and left the room.
Law sat on Roy's bed while Al drew the array with chalk on the floorboards. A moment later the cuff around Roy's ankle released and the clanked to the floor. "The bathroom is this way," Al said.
Roy walked stiffly out the door and down the steps to the second floor. Ed held Roy's elbow to steady him, while Al ran on ahead. Roy heard the sound of water gushing and pipes moaning in protest.
"You did well," said Ed. "That blow job. It was pretty good considering you didn't have your hands."
Roy shook his head.
"I know you don't like this," said Ed. "I know you hate this. But it gets better. You heard Greed. You are new born to our family. This will get better."
Both he and Al helped Roy step into the claw footed tub and lower himself down. Al turned the water off when there was barely enough to cover Roy's groin. The two then went to work on him, passing the bar of soap between them using washcloths to rub out the stubbornly set semen.
"Roy," said Ed. "I know you don't want this, but we have to do it."
Roy just nodded and went up on his knees again. The water rapidly cooled and Roy started shivering. He leaned against the sloping back of the tub and felt Ed part his buttocks and wash the tender flesh between.
'It could be worse," said Ed after a while. "It's mostly bruised. I've been where you are at. I know it feels terrible, but—it won't always be this bad."
"I'm fine," said Roy stiffly.
"Sit down, we'll get your hair."
Al poured more water into the tub. Roy relaxed and leaned back briefly, but then found that wasn't too comfortable with his arms behind his back. He wiggled his wrists a bit. Water had seeped into the bags around his hands. He tried to pull the sack off by pinning it between the tub and his back, but it was hopeless.
"Do you know anything about Dante?" Roy asked. He knew of no one of any rank with that name.
"I've never heard of her," said Ed.
Roy looked at Al but he shook his head as well. "Greed's never mentioned her to us."
"She's the military," Roy muttered to himself. What did that mean? Bradley was Fuhrer. Roy thought of all the advisors who he'd seen clustering around the Fuhrer, but none of them were called Dante. Whoever she was, she had a homunculus working for her. Pride. Did that mean there were seven Homunculi? One for each sin?
Well, whoever Dante and Pride were, Greed was afraid of them. The enemy of my enemy, thought Roy—has possibilities.
Greed walked into the bathroom while Ed and Al were rinsing Roy's hair. For some reason there was a faint ringing sound like bells when he walked. Roy felt a brief urge to ask at that incongruent sound but one look at Greed's face made him hold his tongue.
Greed looked very sober. "There has been a change of plans," he said. He stopped and stared at the two expectant boys. "We aren't going to North to Drachma after all. We are going south. We are going to see my ex."
"Ex?" asked Al.
Greed nodded. "Dante. In a way, it will be a fit punishment for what you did. You boys think living with me is bad, living with Dante is much worse, trust me."
"I don't want to go," said Al.
Greed smoothed his bangs with an idle hand. "We don't have a choice, my love, thanks to your brother, and his goddamn letters." Greed leaned back. "But all isn't lost. We can overcome her. There is a way. It's tough though... She's got at least two homunculi to do her bidding, Gluttony and Envy, we'll have to take them out before we can hope to touch her. She has Pride, but we probably won't have to deal with him. He's too busy. She may have a new Wrath and Lust by now, probably does. The Gate favors that bitch."
"What will she do to us?" Ed asked.
"Use you," said Greed. "Until she has used you up."
Roy's expression didn't change a bit, but suddenly Greed focused on him. "Don't think she's going to free you, Roy. In fact she has already told me that she has no intention of letting you go. Don't expect any compassion for your plight, you've apparently been a thorn in her side for a while."
"What will she do with me?" asked Roy.
"Probably sit you down to tea and cookies—before she locks you up and experiments on your body. And don't think by throwing your self at her mercy and joining her side that she will aide you. My chimeras were were once ordinary loyal soldiers too, you know, before she experimented on them. Being turned into a chimera is a very painful process, Roy. Long and painful. And it is far from the only form of human alchemy she's committed. She's committed genocide, more than once. Compared to her, those arrays my alchemists have made are petty and small. She's taken entire cities out with a single array.
"You were a veteran of Ishbal war," said Greed. "Weren't you."
"Yes, sir," said Roy.
"That was her order." Greed stared into space. "There was no conflict between the Ishballans and the Amestrians. No rebellion. No threat to Amestrian lives. No reason to destroy that city at all. Not until she decided she wanted it gone."
The Ishbal war was for nothing? Roy immediately rejected the idea. "Why?"
"Because she's evil. Because she needed human lives to fuel her experiments." Greed reached over and caressed Roy's cheek. Again there was that strange ringing sound. "I'll protect you, Roy" said Greed. "If you'll help me."
"I will fuck you Roy, but I won't fuck you up," Greed leaned over Roy and put his lips next to his ear. "I don't break what's mine."
Al was sent to start packing up the house while Ed brushed Roy's teeth. "My hands are wet," Roy found the voice to complain after spitting out the tooth paste.
Ed nodded. To Roy's surprise he squeezed a bit of toothpaste into the basin of the sink and quickly drew an array with it. "Turn around." Roy did, and moment later saw the reflection of the alchemical light bounce of the cheerfully pinstriped walls. His hands felt briefly hot, and then merely dry. The leather restraints around his wrists stopped shafeing.
"Good enough," said Greed grabbing a straight razor from where it had been left lying on top of the vanity. He touched it to Roy's cheek, then laughed a little when Roy jerked away from the sharp blade. "I'm not going to slit your throat." He passed the blade to Ed. "Here, Ed, shave him."
Roy bore with Ed lathering up and shaving his face, legs and arms. Perhaps it was meant to emasculating in some way, but as humiliations went, it had little sting. When Ed reached his groin, he protested. The idea of a sharp razor so close to such a delicate area made his toes curl. Ed understood and moved the blade over his skin slowly, with the same sure hand that he used to draw alchemy circles. In the end there wasn't even a nick.
The result was a curiously clean look that, while strange, was not unattractive. When Ed reached the end of this final cleaning ritual, Roy let out a sigh of relief. He felt less itchy, and more civilized, though a bit cold.
Greed watched the whole proceeding with a look of detachment. Roy couldn't decide whether the thousand-yard stare was a good thing or not. Good, he decided after a while. If nothing else it meant that Greed was no longer in complete control. And perhaps he could hope that would mean Greed would want to get on Roy's good side—
Greed seemed to notice him. "Ed go join your brother taking down the arrays." Ed nodded and left and Greed and Roy were alone in the bathroom. Greed walked over and closed the bathroom door. That odd tinkling sound drew Roy's attention again, but he saw no source.
"You are wondering," said Greed walking up to the sink and turning on the hot water. "How this new development changes things between us." Greed flicked his fingers under the stream. "That's what I'd be wondering if I were in your place."
"How does it change things?" asked Roy. Greed glared. "Sir," Roy quickly corrected.
Greed turned his attention back to the sink, turning on the cold tap. "The answer is, it doesn't. I always meant to keep you, to protect you from outsiders. That was my goal almost from the first moment I saw you. It hasn't changed. One day you will love me. Until then I may have to resort to some disagreeable tactics." Greed fiddled with the knobs until apparently the temperature of the water was right.
"I don't do this to hurt you, Roy," said Greed. "I do this to TEACH you." Greed reached into a deep pocket and pulled out a strange device. It looked like a deflated balloon. "Unlike Dante, I value people. People like you are like diamonds in the raw. You know what a raw diamond looks like?"
"Yes. Ordinary. Unuseful. But cut... you don't get more beautiful than that." Greed twiddled with the nobs on the faucet a bit more, then nodded. "The point isn't to crush you, or to alchemize you into a garnet, but to shape you, cut your facets and to bring out your inner shine."
Roy watched Greed put the balloon under the tap, filling it. "The shaping is uncomfortable, and difficult, but it's worth it. You will be happy with me. And when all of it is mine, I will share it with you."
"All of it, sir?"
"The world," said Greed. "Everything that bitch wants for herself. When we've brought her down, and I take up her throne, you will be my Fuhrer and Pride will lick your shoes."
Before Roy could respond to that, Greed reached into his pocket again and pulled out something that made Roy's stomach suddenly fall.
"No, Greed. Please, I'm sore."
Greed screwed the end a short thick phallus to the balloon. "You need to be clean on the inside as well. It won't hurt. Bend over the toilet. It won't take long."
"It's unnes—" Roy winced as Greed slapped his face.
"I decide what is necessary. Cooperate, or I will force you to, and if you make me do that, I will make this hurt. I promise." Greed's face suddenly softened. "You don't want to go back to being my victim again, now do you?"
Roy's stomach tensed, then he willed himself to relax. "No, sir."
"That's good." Roy knelt and tried hard not to think about what Greed was doing. Despite Greed's assurance, his abused sphincter protested the intrusion and he couldn't help but make a slight groan when the thickest part breached him. The phallus thinned out immediately afterwards, and his muscles clamped down on the relatively narrower stem. Roy didn't have much of a chance to recover before he felt a sudden warmth begin to fill him.
Ignore it, he told himself, but the sensation soon passed the point of comfort and he felt his guts suddenly spasm. The need to void was intense. "No more," grunted Roy.
"Almost there." The pressure built. "Done." There was a tugging and pulling on the phallus. Then Greed stepped away holding the empty balloon.
"I need—Sir, please may I—"
"No," said Greed. "Stay still,. Hold it in. Not too long."
Roy closed his eyes, and tried to think about anything else. The seat of the toilet was cool against his cheek. He felt sweat break out on his upper lip and brow and he breathed in quick shallow breaths while his guts twisted in knots.
"Roy, I don't want you to forget this. Even in Dante's house, you are mine. I will decide when you eat, when you sleep, even when you defecate if I choose. You have no rights but what I give you. Loyalty will give you a longer leash, but the leash will still be there. There is no opposing me. I am you master. Do you understand?"
"There is no shame in doing what I want you to, Roy. No matter the act." Greed rubbed his back. "You should take pride in pleasing me, and comfort in my approval."
Roy nodded again frantically, hoping that Greed was done with the lecture.
"Very good." Greed seized the base of the plug and pulled. It took every ounce of effort Roy possessed not to just release the water onto the floor. Apparently Greed didn't wish for him to soil himself either, because he lifted Roy up and helped him position him on the toilet.
The most embarrassing part was over quickly. Roy stared up with hate at Greed. Now the cramps were gone he was left feeling empty and used, with nothing but a seething self-hatred boiling within him.
"No shame, Roy," said Greed.
There was a knock at the door and Law poked his head in. "We are ready to leave when you are." Again he didn't look at Roy. Such a small gesture, but Roy felt an instant liking towards the chimera. At least one person here granted him some dignity.
Greed nodded. He reached into his other pocket this time and pulled out yet another strange object. Two metal balls connected by a thick string. They jingled and rolled against each other in his hands. A musical device?
"I'm not going to drug you for this ride, but I'm afraid you will still have to spend it in the trunk. It will be dark and a bit claustrophobic, but I've brought you something to entertain yourself with. Don't expel them or I will be very, very unhappy with you." Greed reached for the bottle of lube again.
Once again Roy was hoisted up and bent over, this time it was the sink vanity that dug into his belly while his buttocks were pried apart. With no preamble the spheres were pushed in, several inches of string were allowed to remain outside his body. Roy straightened up and immediately Roy understood the purpose of the balls. Even the slightest move caused the balls to vibrate and massage his lower colon.
"It's time to go,' said Greed pushing him out of the bathroom.
With every step, every stair, every movement the balls within rocked against each other, and within each metal sphere a separate bearing rolled and clanged, setting off sharp vibrations and a musical tone. Roy's face burned with humiliation as he passed each member of Greed's family, and even those who didn't look surely must have heard the sound. Greed easily hoisted him up into the trunk, then took a moment to wrap leather restraints around his ankles.
"It's like cutting a diamond, Roy," said Greed. "I can already begin to see the shine."
Then the lid to the trunk closed, and the world went black.