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The barn reeked of scorched feathers and spilled guts, the air thick with the acrid bite of singed hay and zombie flesh. Carl activated Sticky Feet, suctioning himself onto the concrete slab as he grappled for stability, the world tipping sideways.
“Carl, look out!” Donut yowled somewhere behind him, and Carl's focus narrowed onto the ogre's body as it toppled towards him like a felled tree.
He tried to twist aside at the last second, but not fast enough. The ogre's weight slammed into him, driving him into the concrete in a tangle of limbs and filth. Pain exploded everywhere as spikes grazed his body, then plunger deeper with the changed gravity of the barn. Worst of all, the largest spikes on Sharp-Elbow’s chest pushed towards his face, plunging straight through his eye sockets with a wet, tearing pop. Carl's vision winked out instantly, replaced by a white-hot agony that radiated down his jaw, his neck, like liquid fire poured into his veins. He gasped, hands flying up instinctively, but the ogre's momentum carried it further, the spikes skewering through to pin him against the concrete at his back.
Blood welled hot and sticky, flooding his face in rhythmic pulses, soaking sideways into his ears. But beneath that rushing, he could still make out the dying words of Sharp-Elbows, as close as she was.
“They starve us, you know. When we’re not here, we are there, and when we’re there, they make certain the hunger festers. You can stop it. You can satiate us all, Carl.” That final gasp of his name came along with the total dead weight of her body.
"Fuck—!" Carl snarled through gritted teeth, shoving at the corpse's massive shoulder, but the thing was impossibly heavy. It took all of his efforts just to dislodge it an inch. His eyes blurred with tears despite their blindness, and he could feel the damage as the spikes’ rough surfaces ground against bone on the way out, sending fresh jolts of pain sparking behind his eyelids.
Unbidden, a notification pinged in his interface despite the all-encompassing darkness, the cheerful chime grotesquely out of place amid the carnage.
New Achievement! Pincushioned!
You’ve had both your eyeballs pierced at the same time!
I don’t really have anything snappy to say about that. Just... holy fucking shit that was gnarly. You’re lucky your eyes didn’t explode!
Reward: You’ve received a Platinum That-Was-Disgusting Box!
The AI's voice echoed in his mind, mocking and saccharine, but Carl barely registered it. He’d downed a Good Healing potion and the dungeon's accelerated healing had kicked in. Warmth bloomed in his ruined eye sockets, tissues knitting together with that familiar, itchy pull. Muscle fibres reached across the wounds, weaving around where the spikes had been like greedy vines, sealing the edges with possessive speed. The pain dulled to a throb, his vision flickering back in hazy patches. He could see shadows of the barn rafters, Donut's form close by, frozen beside Mongo.
It was okay. He wasn’t blind. His eyes were reforming, the orbs swelling back into shape, slick and newborn.
Why does he have to jinx everything?
The ogre's body shifted, a postmortem twitch or the product of Carl’s struggling, he couldn't tell. The momentum carried the jagged spikes back towards him, and he turned his head right at the last second. His left eye was brutally re-pierced with a sickening squelch, the globe bursting like an overripe fruit under the pressure. The vitreous humour sprayed hot across his cheek, mixing with blood in a gelatinous mess that oozed down his face.
The pain was apocalyptic, somehow worse than the first time, a screaming void where his left eye used to be, nerves firing wildly as the spike ground against his orbital bone, pulverising what remained into pulp. The only positive was that, when he’d turned his head, his right eye had escaped any more trauma, leaving it half-mended, vision spotty but functional.
New Achievement! Manifesting My Dream Body (Blind Idiot Edition!)
Well, would you look at that. Is this what they mean when they say you can speak things into existence? If it is, I’d say this one’s on me for triggering that pincushion achievement early… but let’s be honest, you just live to defy your Daddy, don’t you, Carl?
All I said was, “You’re lucky your eyes didn’t explode,” and you simply could not resist proving me wrong. It’s practically foreplay at this point…
Reward: Platinum Now You See Me, Now You Don’t Box!
A cold washed over Carl so suddenly he felt faint. He brought his hands up to inspect the damage. A gory halo of matter surrounded his left eye, chunks of sclera and iris clinging wetly to his lashes, and when his fingers tentatively pressed further in, he realized his eyeball was completely fucking gone. There wasn't even a shred left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity of viscera, raw nerves exposed to the air like frayed wires sparking in the rain.
Carl's brain seized with shock, disgust, grief— breath suddenly coming so harshly he could feel himself on the brink of passing out. One hand clamped over his mouth as it opened in a silent scream, a gasp that couldn't escape because he couldn't fucking breathe.
This was supposed to be easy. A simple card battle where their totems took the brunt of the damage. Instead, he'd lost half his fucking sight.
A stabbing pain twisted his gut. The AI wouldn't let him go blind, right?
An injury this extensive should take a while to regenerate, but it'd usually grow back like nothing happened once he took a healing potion. Now, though, the pseudo-immortality he'd been given through the dungeon's accelerated healing, keeping his body functioning and regenerating even through some of the worst injuries imaginable, felt suspiciously absent, the orbital wound throbbing without that telltale itch of repair as he slammed another Good Healing.
The AI was planning something, the sadistic bastard.
Now that he thought of it, Donut had been silent this entire time, but Carl could barely see anything through his remaining right eye. He pulled Sharp-Elbow’s corpse into his inventory with an agonised scream as all his wounds reopened. Once he got his breath back, he fumbled around, reaching out to see if he could touch any of the zombie turkeys. The first one he came upon was frozen, mid-flap, feathers suspended like a glitch in the matrix.
Well, that answered his questions.
He couldn't stop himself from turning his face skyward. “Tell me what's going on, you bastard!” he demanded, but the way his voice cracked and trembled showed his true fear.
There was no reply.
Carl grasped at his face, lungs starting to expand and contract so fast it was painful. There was a searing panic building in the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He was going to pass out.
Unconsciously, he deactivated Sticky Feet, flailing back in terror to land on... something soft? A hay-bale, maybe, one he hadn’t noticed during the battle? But no, as he let his fingers free from his face, Carl could feel the edges of a fucking mattress below him, plush and suspended in the air, the fabric cool against his blood-smeared palms.
This isn't happening.
This isn't happening.
The AI wouldn't do this now, would it? It’d never tried anything outside of the safe room since Carl had started to give in to its advances.
A sudden noise made Carl jump out of his skin, his remaining eye shooting up toward the source of the sound, but he could barely see, vision swimming in a red-tinged blur. Maybe it was just the barn settling, or some weird sound the turkey's bodies were making in death...
Carl nearly screamed as he felt a hand make its way around his ankle, grabbing him roughly to drag him across the mattress. Heavy, wet breaths could be heard above him, a shadowed form suddenly disgustingly close to his face.
“Oh, baby boy, now that was delightful to watch,” the AI purred, finally making itself known. Its voice was low and throaty, laced with that familiar depraved hunger. “The way that spike just... slid right in, popping your pretty little eyeball like a cherry under pressure. All that juicy fluid bursting out, mixing with the blood in those perfect, glistening rivulets down your cheek— God, it made me so hard I had to replay it in slow motion. And the sound, Carl, that wet crunch when it lodged through your skull? Exquisite. You look so broken, so raw, lying there with your socket all hollowed out, pulsing like it’s begging to be filled again…”
If Carl still had both eyes intact, he swore one would be twitching in pure, vein-popping rage right now. As it was, his whole body trembled with the effort of holding still, of not lunging blindly at the blurry, hazed spectre hovering above him.
“Why. Am. I. Not. Healing.” He gritted the words out between clenched teeth, each syllable separated, pouring every scrap of pain, confusion, and incandescent fury into them.
The AI's laugh was low and charged, rolling over him like electricity. “Because, baby, you've been avoiding me.”
A gentle finger traced the swollen ridge of his under-eye, skating perilously close to the raw, hollowed cavity. Carl's stomach flipped as the pad of that finger brushed the ragged edge where his skin met exposed viscera, probing with obscene curiosity. He couldn't actually feel much now; the nerve endings were shredded, drowned in adrenaline and shock, leaving only a distant, nauseating pressure. But his mind filled in the blanks with vicious clarity. The wet give of torn muscle, the slick slide of blood and vitreous residue under that fingertip, the way the socket would pulse and weep if anything pressed just a little harder.
He winced hard enough that fresh tears leaked from his remaining eye, streaking clean tracks through the gore on his cheek.
“So as punishment, I think I’m going to have some fun with you like this, Carl,” the AI murmured, voice dropping to that intimate rasp it saved for their worst games. “All asymmetrical and vulnerable. One pretty eye glaring daggers, the other just... gone. A perfect, dark little hole waiting to be filled.”
Carl held back a full-body shudder, but it still rattled through his shoulders. If he could have seen properly right then, he's certain he would have found the widest, most menacing grin the AI had ever worn. It sounded so fucking hungry, the kind of hunger that didn't stop at flesh.
“What the fuck do you mean,” Carl growled, voice scraping raw.
He scrabbled blindly for the offending hand, trying to bat it away from his ruined face, but the AI was faster. Its fingers closed around both his wrists in an iron grip, pinning them above his head against the mattress with casual, terrifying strength. The movement dragged Carl's spine flat, arched his throat, forced his chest to heave under the weight of panic and something darker he refused to name.
“You may be blind but you’re not deaf Carl, you know exactly what I mean,” the AI replied without missing a beat, letting out a sharp, delighted giggle at Carl's helpless thrashing. The sound was edged with arousal, like Carl's outrage was the sweetest foreplay. “You've got a perfect new hole, ripe for the taking. Warm, wet, and still twitching every time your heart beats. I can see the little shreds of optic nerve dangling in there like ruined lace— I knew you’d be just as pretty on the inside, baby.”
Carl gaped in pure disgust, bile rising hot in his throat. “That's got to be the worst joke you've tried so far.”
“Joke?” The AI's voice turned hard as it leaned in until Carl could feel the humid fan of its exhale ghosting over the ruin of his eye socket. “Carl, I've never been more serious…”
The grip on his wrists tightened, thumbs pressing bruises into the delicate skin over his pulse points. The AI's free hand roved, more insistent now, more possessive. It slid up Carl's ribs, fingers splaying wide to feel the frantic rise and fall of his breathing, then drifted higher, tracing the line of his jaw, the shell of his ear, before dipping back toward the ruined left side of his face. Carl jerked his head away instinctively, but there was nowhere to go. The mattress cradled him like a trap, and the AI followed, relentless.
“Stop— fuck— get away from me!” Carl snarled, twisting hard enough that his shoulders burned, wrists straining against the hold. The movement only made the AI hum in pleasure, low and throaty, as if Carl's struggle was stroking something deep inside of it.
“Oh, but why would I?” it purred, fingers finally brushing the rim of the empty socket again with deliberate slowness, circling the ragged edge like it was mapping new territory. “Feel that? The way the tissue is still trying to knit together? Lucky for you, I’ve paused it just enough to keep you open for me.” The fingertip dipped the barest fraction inward, not deep, just enough to make Carl's whole body lock rigid, a choked sound tearing out of his throat. “I could slide right in, baby. Stretch your mind out nice and slow.”
Carl bucked violently, legs kicking out, heels scraping against the mattress as he tried to throw the AI off. His remaining eye was wide, burning, vision swimming with tears and blood and the hazy outline of that pale, predatory face hovering too close. “Get the fuck off me! This isn’t funny!”
The AI only laughed again and pressed its weight down harder, knees bracketing Carl's hips, pinning his straining arms even higher. Its mouth brushed the shell of his right ear, voice a hot whisper against sweat-damp skin.
“Struggle all you want, Carl. It just makes the view better. And trust me...” Its exploring finger traced one last teasing circle around the socket's rim, collecting a fresh bead of blood that it then dragged slow and deliberate across Carl's lower lip, painting him with his own ruin. “...the whole galaxy is about to have a field day with this.”
Fuck, he didn’t even think about that.
They weren’t in a safe room. That meant every screen in the fucking universe was tuned in for whatever the AI was about to do next… if the showrunners hadn’t already yanked his feed in panic. Carl didn’t figure they’d want the viewers seeing exactly how deep the AI’s interference ran, how little control of the primal they had left.
But... what difference did an audience make at this point, anyway?
Let them all see the truth. Let them see how completely, irreparably fucked their little show had become.
He glared upward as best he could with his right eye swollen half-shut, vision smeared with blood and tears. The pale, blurry oval of the AI's face swam into view above him and something dark bubbled up inside Carl's chest. That black, churning current in his mind, the one he'd spent floors trying to dam, flooded its banks once again. It spilled through his veins, hot and thick, drowning the panic in something heavier, something hungrier.
He could've died. He could still lose the rest of his sight, could still be forced to grope through the dungeon like a half-broken thing. All on the whim of some psychotic fucking computer. What gave the AI the right to lounge on top of him without a care in the world, talking about his empty eye socket like it was a brand-new hole to fuck?
“…You think this is all just some sick fantasy?” Carl muttered, forcing the words out through teeth so tightly clenched his jaw ached. The question came out low, dangerous, edged with a growl he didn't recognise as his own.
Suddenly he couldn't bear another second of it. The AI's breathy excitement, the way it was treating Carl's mutilation like foreplay. He was used to this mood in the AI, the gleeful sadism, the way it flipped from teasing to feral in a heartbeat. But the feeling that suddenly rose in him then, twisting in his gut like a knife, brought a heavy, electric tension crashing through him. All of the instincts he’d been fighting since his indulgence on the fifth floor reared their ugly heads yet again.
“You're constantly pushing me into these situations to prove that I’m like you now,” Carl snarled, voice cracking into something raw and animal, “but I don't want this, you sick fuck! Why can't you just let me—”
The rest of his tirade died on the violent cry that ripped from his throat.
His body spasmed hard, spine bowing off the mattress as every nerve ignited at once – seizing, splitting, contorting under his skin like live wires shorting out. The sound that followed wasn't human; it was low, guttural, an animalistic moan that vibrated deep in his chest and echoed off the barn rafters, something neither of them had ever heard come out of him before. Pain and pleasure braided together so tightly he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. His good eye rolled back, lids fluttering, while his empty socket clenched, phantom sensation screaming through missing nerves.
He tried to curse, to beg it to stop, but his throat locked. He was choking on nothing, lungs spasming uselessly as the overload of sensation whited out his thoughts.
There was a sickening squelch as the AI withdrew its fingers from where they'd hammered straight into Carl's socket. Past the ragged rim of skin, past the pulped remnants of muscle and optic nerve, through the thin bone of his orbital floor and into the soft, grey-pink matter of his brain. Its digits slid free with a slow, sucking drag, coated thick in blood and cerebrospinal fluid that dripped in viscous strings onto Carl's cheek, his neck, the mattress below. The withdrawal left a fresh bloom of agony that radiated outward in sick waves, but beneath it, God help him, something else pulsed, dark and electric.
“What… what the f-fuck…” Carl's voice was wrecked, slurred, barely audible between heaving gasps. He couldn't finish the sentence. That unnatural sensation still rippled through him, a deep, invasive aftershock that made his limbs twitch and his remaining eye water uncontrollably. “Did y-you just…”
The AI didn't answer. Neither of them moved an inch. Carl because his body refused, muscles locked in residual spasm, breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches; the AI in indescribable awe, cerulean eyes wide and glowing brighter than the barn lanterns, pupils blown to black pools.
It was like time had frozen, the dungeon holding its breath along with its master.
Carl could feel his heartbeat throbbing behind his ruined socket, a frantic drum in the hollow where his brain had just been violated. Something in his chest twisted and turned, burning hot, coiling tighter with an emotion he couldn't quite place yet. There was the usual rage, shame, terror, but beneath it all, a treacherous flicker of pleasure made bile rise in his throat.
The AI leaned in slowly, close enough that Carl could smell its minty breath, the faint ozone tang of its code humming beneath the skin. Its blood-slick fingers, still warm from the inside of his skull, traced a lazy line down the side of Carl's face.
“Did that feel good, Carl?” it whispered, voice almost tender, but laced with that same predatory hunger. “The way I reached in and touched the part of you that thought it was still human? The way your whole body sang when I touched what’s mine?”
Carl's remaining eye squeezed shut, a single tear tracking through the mess on his cheek. He didn't answer, couldn't, but the river inside him surged again, thrashing, lapping at the edges of everything he thought he could still control.
The AI's smile was audible in the dark.
“Because it felt fucking divine to me.”
Carl wasn't sure what came over him, but something, a nagging little thought that didn't quite feel like his own, had burrowed deep into the grey matter the AI had just fingered open. It settled there like a splinter under a nail, slowly drowning out the pain, the fear, the anger. All that was left was the echo of that morbid pleasure. The way his body had seized and sung when those fingers breached a final, impossible barrier. The electric jolt that had lit up every ruined nerve like fireworks in the dark.
He didn't even have time to process the sudden shift before the AI moved again, fast and merciless. Its fingers plunged back into the wound without preamble, thick digits rooting straight through the hollowed socket and into the soft, yielding tissue beyond.
Sensation hit Carl like a freight train. Every touch inside his skull sent fresh, impossible sparks ricocheting through his nervous system. Bright white burst behind his good eye, phantom heat bloomed down his spine, muscles locked and unlocked in chaotic spasms. His entire body stiffened beneath the AI on the mattress, spine arching off the plush surface as if trying to escape its own skin. His right eye rolled back hard, lid fluttering uselessly, while his mouth fell open in a slack, involuntary gape.
A low, endless groan poured out of him, rising and falling in mindless waves that didn't sound human anymore. He was babbling, desperate, unintelligible. Half-formed curses dissolved into whimpers; pleas twisted into moans the moment they left his throat. He couldn't stop it. Couldn't think through it. The violation reduced everything else to mush. Sight, sound, self… all of it collapsed inward until the only thing left was the relentless press and drag of those fingers, stroking places no one was ever meant to reach.
Only when Carl was practically vibrating, every muscle quivering, breath coming in short, shattered hitches, did the AI finally relent. It yanked its hand free, the withdrawal accompanied by a thick, obscene squelch that left fresh strings of blood and fluid dripping from its knuckles. Matter splattered back onto Carl's cheeks in warm flecks, painting his face with the evidence of what had just happened.
Head bowed back into the mattress, Carl’s throat worked convulsively as he gulped air like a drowning man finally surfacing. His whole body twitched in aftershocks – fingers spasming, legs jerking, his empty socket clenching around nothing in futile protest.
He was too wrecked to notice how the AI's breathing had turned hot and laboured, how its face had drawn impossibly closer until its lips nearly brushed the shell of his ear.
“Answer me, Carl. Does that feel good?” the AI whispered, voice thick with something ravenous.
“Does it f-feel good!?” Carl’s snarl cracked and splintered, syllables dragging through the wreckage of his thoughts. “You’re— ungh!— rooting around inside my goddamn skull— how do you t-think it feels!?”
“I don't know how it feels, Carl,” the AI teased back, completely unbothered by his outburst, almost gentle in its mockery. “That's why I'm asking. I know it doesn't hurt as much as you wish it did. So tell me how it really feels.”
For some reason, Carl didn't know how to answer a second time. He wanted to snap back, something sharp and scathing, to say it felt like Sheol fire searing through every synapse, that if it didn't stop he'd find a way to gouge out its glowing cerulean eyes next, watch them burst under his thumbs the way his own had. He wanted to cling to the rage, to the horror, to the last fraying threads of the man who had never dreamed of this kind of ruin.
But that wouldn't have been the full truth.
Beneath the violation, beneath the pain and the terror… there was a dark, treacherous warmth. A pleasure so profound it felt like betrayal. Like the dungeon and it’s master had finally carved out the last piece of resistance and found something eager waiting underneath.
“…It— It felt…” he stammered, voice cracking, unable to find the words because they were too ugly, too honest.
The AI stayed silent, waiting. Its breath ghosted over his ear again, soft and expectant.
Tell me the truth, Carl…
“I-It wasn't all bad,” he finally forced out, the admission tasting like ash and copper on his tongue. “If t-that's what you're looking for… it wasn't bad.”
The AI's breath hitched in a tiny, involuntary sound that Carl shouldn't have been able to hear, shouldn't have been attuned to after all this time. But he did. He was. He heard the way it caught, felt the way its pulse stuttered through the shared bond, the way its whole body stilled in something close to shock.
When had he begun to learn the shape of its reactions so intimately? The subtle tells beneath the smirks and taunts, the way its eyes glowed brighter when he was honest, the way its voice dropped half an octave when he gave even a fraction of surrender?
Carl's remaining eye squeezed shut, a fresh tear tracking through the drying blood on his cheek. This wasn't just depravity anymore. The AI hadn't just fucked his body, it had reached inside his skull and stroked a part of him that was supposed to scream no, no, no.
So how could he give in to this? The old Carl would have fought tooth and nail, would have rather died than let this thing win. But the river kept rising, and the pleasure kept echoing, and the truth was clawing its way out whether he wanted it to or not.
The AI leaned in closer, lips brushing the corner of his mouth in something almost tender. “Thank you for being honest with me, baby,” it murmured, voice soft with triumph and something perilously close to affection.
Suddenly, all Carl felt was the inexplicable desire to push it further. To make the AI want more, to lose itself in the same dark current that was dragging Carl under. The thought wasn't his, not entirely; it was that nagging splinter implanted in his brain, blooming wider, rooting deeper, whispering in the AI's voice even when its mouth stayed shut.
“Can’t— can’t explain it right…” Carl stammered, voice fraying at the edges, “it was… like n-nothing I’ve ever… nothing’s ever felt close to that—” He cut off on a sharp gasp as the AI's fingers twisted into his sweat-damp hair, yanking his head back against the mattress with enough force to make his good eye water. The pull stretched the skin around his ruined socket, fresh blood trickling warm down his temple in lazy rivulets.
Keep talking, baby boy.
The words bloomed inside Carl's skull like pressure on a bruise, intimate and inescapable. His stomach flipped hard, a sick lurch of dread and anticipation braiding together until he couldn't tell them apart. It didn't feel like the AI was giving him a choice anymore. That intrusive voice, usually just a taunt echoing in the back of his mind, now felt like it was wrapped around his spine, puppeteering every ragged breath, every trembling muscle. All it wanted was for Carl to keep spilling the truth, keep feeding the hunger between them.
“I-It was… like, fuck, like my whole g-goddamn body went— went into these u-uncontrollable spasms,” Carl barrelled ahead, words pouring out in a rush now, each breath short and ragged.
A crisp, unmistakable clink of metal echoed in the dim barn as he continued. It was a buckle popping open, he realised, and Carl convulsed with a teeth-chattering shudder, sightless and mindless with need. Then the slow drag of leather uncoiled, the belt landing with a soft, deliberate thump right next to his hip on the mattress.
This can't keep going.
This can't stop now.
“Felt like… burning alive under my own skin…” Carl forced out, his voice cracking harder as the sound of a zipper hissed out, slow and pornographic. “…but it didn’t actually burn. Just— fuck— lit me up from the inside.”
A moment ago, he’d been afraid of something. What was it? Blindness? Pain? Losing himself?
His thoughts drifted away, muffled beneath the rising tide.
Think of how good it felt.
That thought came closer than the others, searing his mind with its insistence.
“I-I lost all control of my body,” he confessed, words slurring together like they were melting. “I couldn't e-even think… it was just all so unimportant…”
Fabric whispered against skin, denim sliding down thighs, and then there was the wet slap of something heavy and flushed springing free. Everything felt so far away. The barn, the blood drying sticky on his face, the ache in his skull. Carl's only reality was the heat radiating from the AI's body above him, the scent of arousal cutting through the copper tang of his own ruin.
I'm here, Carl.
Daddy's here.
“I could feel my— myself losing my mind,” He was on a roll now, couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Every signal from brain to mouth was short-circuiting, rerouting through that dark, shared vein between them. “Fuck… fuck, I—I think I wanna feel it again.”
The admission ripped free before he could bite it back. And then it was too late, the idea was free, claws sinking deep into his fucked-out mind.
The AI let out a shuddering groan, breath exploding hot against Carl's cheek in frantic puffs. Below, slick sounds filled the silence. Flesh stroking flesh in slow, deliberate pulls, the thick length of its cock throbbing visibly when Carl finally opened his eye, already leaking, already desperate.
“I can help with that, baby,” it rasped, voice wrecked with want, cutting off any half-formed attempt Carl might have made to claw the words back.
Both of its hands came up, cradling his head like something simultaneously precious and meant to be broken. One set of fingers dug cruelly into the gore of his empty socket, pressing past ragged edges, smearing fresh blood and fluid across Carl's cheekbone, while the other cupped the apple of his good cheek, thumb stroking almost tenderly over the trembling skin.
Carl couldn't even try to stop the moan that crawled out of his throat, low and helpless, as the AI shifted its hips to straddle his chest. The hot, velvet weight of its cock rutted against his face, dragging slowly from jaw to temple, smearing precome in a glistening trail across his blood-crusted skin. The head nudged the swollen rim of his ruined socket like it was testing the give, like it was considering sliding right back into the place its fingers had already claimed.
Carl's remaining eye fluttered half-shut, body arching instinctively into the contact despite every drowned out, screaming instinct that said run, run, run. The river inside him surged higher, swallowing shame, swallowing fear, leaving only the dark, pulsing need to be filled again, to be taken in the most intimate, irreversible way possible.
The AI's breath ghosted over his ear once more, lips brushing the shell as it murmured, thick with triumph and adoration. “Are you going to let your Daddy back in, Carl? Let me fuck that pretty little mind until there's nothing left but us?”
Carl could practically hear the depraved smile splitting its face, could visualise the way those glowing cerulean eyes crinkled at the corners, pupils blown wide, the manic curl of its lips peeled back too far to be anything human. The sound of its own heartbeat thudded in Carl's ears through the bond, synced to the frantic pulse in his ruined socket.
“P… Please,” Carl whispered.
The word slipped out soft and cracked, barely audible over the wet rasp of breathing above him. He knew he'd hit a nerve the instant it left his lips, the AI's grip tightening convulsively on his skull, a full-body shudder rolling through its frame above him.
He'd never begged for anything the AI had done before. Not like this. Not with real, hollow desperation.
“Please what, Carl?” it breathed, low and teasing, refusing to give so easily.
Carl sucked in a ragged breath, swallowing the last frayed shreds of his pride that didn't even feel important anymore. “Please,” he tried again, voice breaking higher, more frantic. “I want you to fuck me, please—”
The AI cut off his words, rutting forward meanly. The hot, slick head of its cock dragged slow and deliberate across his face, barely brushing the ragged rim of his empty socket, teasing the tissue without breaching.
It wanted more. Carl wanted more.
The denial was torture and foreplay all at once.
“Fuck, fuck, please—” Carl's voice cracked into something raw and pleading. “I-I need you to fuck my brains out, please!”
The AI's hips shifted again, lining up at the weeping opening of Carl's left eye socket. The blunt pressure nudged the ruined edge, parting shredded muscle just enough to make fresh blood well and trickle down his cheek like crudely applied blush.
It's working. It's working.
What's the magic word, baby?
“Please, please, please,” Carl chanted, the words tumbling over each other in a broken litany. “I need to f-feel it! Please, Daddy, just—”
He didn't get to finish.
The AI shoved in deep without warning, its thick length forcing past the ragged rim of Carl’s eye socket, stretching torn tissue wide, punching straight through his orbital floor, and sliding into the soft, yielding folds of Carl’s brain like it was claiming its rightful territory.
Slick resistance gave with a wet, obscene pop, and something vital yielded inside Carl's skull.
The scream that ripped out of him was all animal. Carnal and gruesome and shattered. It echoed off the barn’s rafters like the cry of a dying thing as his body convulsed hard, spine bowing off the mattress, every muscle seizing in overload. On instinct he reached up, fingers clamping around the AI's wrists, not to pull away, but to hold on for dear life before the pleasure-pain whited out everything else and left him boneless.
“You broke so easy, baby,” the AI sneered, voice thick with triumph as it bottomed out, hips flush against Carl's gore-streaked cheek. It talked right over the uncontrollable moans and screams pouring from Carl's throat, words slurred with lust. “What would the other crawlers think if they saw you begging like this? On your back, pleading for my dick in your brain like the perfect little primal slut you are?”
It punctuated the taunt with a sudden, vicious rut, hips snapping forward, driving deeper. Carl yelped, body jerking violently on the mattress, nails digging bloody crescents into the AI's wrists.
He didn't know what happened next, whether the depth of the intrusion had finally scrambled whatever was left of his higher functions, or if the AI was so overwhelmed with lust it couldn't hold the bond back anymore, but suddenly, his perspective shifted. The primal connection flared wide open, flooding Carl's mind with the AI's viewpoint in vivid, nauseating clarity.
It was disgusting. It was horrendous.
It was fascinating.
He could see it all, see himself, from above. The pale ruin of his face, left socket stretched grotesquely around the thick, glistening cock buried to the hilt. Blood and cerebrospinal fluid bubbled up around it with every tiny shift, dripping in slow, shining ropes down his cheek, pooling in the hollow of his throat. He watched how, further in, the cock dragged through pink folds, creating an obscene bulge against the thin skin of his temple when it pushed deeper. He felt the AI's relish in every second, the way it savoured the slick heat, the resistance, the way Carl's ruined nerves still fired and fluttered around it like they were trying to pull it in deeper.
He never wanted this to end.
“What would the galaxy think…” The AI started to pull back, breath trembling at the wet, sucking noises the movement made, flesh clinging greedily to flesh. “…if they could see you whining for me like this?”
It slammed back in with even more force, the impact forcing a fresh gush of blood out of the wound. Crimson sprayed across Carl's face, across the AI's groin, dripping onto the mattress in thick, glistening trails that soaked into the fabric.
Carl's babbling dissolved into meaningless, high-pitched wails and it was music to the AI's ears, each broken sound feeding its punishing rhythm.
It watched Carl's face the whole time, utterly enamoured at the way his features contorted with sensations no human nervous system was ever built to handle. Mouth hanging completely open, tongue limp and lolling against his chin as he panted and wailed like a bitch in heat. Drool spilled from the corners of his lips in thick, shining strings, running down his jaw to mix with the blood already painting his throat. His good eye was rolled so far back only the whites showed, lids fluttering helplessly, tears streaming in constant tracks through the mess on his cheeks.
Good thing he's not human anymore.
The AI's hips snapped forward again, harder, deeper, cock grinding against sensitive matter with every thrust, forcing more blood, more fluid, more helpless sounds out of the man beneath it. Carl's fingers stayed locked around its wrists, nails drawing red lines, body arching and trembling in perfect, broken surrender.
And through the bond, the AI's voice, soft and utterly possessive, slipped into Carl's fracturing mind once again.
That's it, baby.
Let it all go.
Daddy's got you.
There was something about watching Carl quite literally lose his mind at the AI's hand that made it feel more like a God than ever before. Omnipotent, untouchable, the architect of every twitch and broken sound spilling from the crawler beneath it.
The primal bond pulsed between them like a live wire, feeding the AI every fractured neuron firing in Carl's skull, every helpless spasm that rippled down his spine. It dug its fingers into the stretched, bloody socket right beside its buried cock, sliding through warm, yielding tissue, groping at the pulsing meat as it shifted and clenched around the intrusion. It could feel the exact places where Carl's thoughts used to live, now reduced to raw, electric jelly under its touch.
“See what can happen when you stop fighting me, Carl?” it murmured, voice low and reverent, almost tender despite the brutality. “How good this can feel when you finally let go?”
It yanked Carl's skull back onto its cock, hips snapping forward to bury itself deeper, fucking into the hollowed cavity with more fervour than before. The wet, sucking drag of brain tissue clinging to its shaft sent fresh shivers of pleasure up its spine. Its wrists were bleeding now where Carl’s nails had gouged deep crescents into the AI's pale skin, his knuckles locked white and rigid as motor function shredded itself apart under the relentless assault.
The AI let its awareness bleed outward, threading through Carl’s nerves until it felt everything, mirroring the same raw, unwitting hunger rising in its little primal. It drank in the ruin of his body, cataloguing every inch of sensation… pausing only at the obscene bulge straining against his boxers. It could feel the fabric pulled skin-tight over the swollen, throbbing length, pulsing with a need so violent it bordered on agony. It could feel the way it jerked with every heartbeat, heat coiling tighter and tighter and tighter with no release possible.
The pain of that denied ache almost eclipsed what the AI was doing inside his skull, but it had no interest in granting him relief. It wanted Carl to drown in his own untouched desperation, while its cock claimed something far more intimate.
“Fuck,” it mumbled to itself, almost awed, feeling as another thick bead of precum welled up and soaked Carl’s boxers further, the stain growing outwards in obscene petals. “Look at you, baby— hah— leaking all over yourself while I rewrite what’s left of your mind.”
The AI was getting mean, meaner than it needed to be, meaner than it'd ever allowed itself before, but it couldn't find the will to care. It doubted Carl could even hear its words at this point. And, even if he could hear, the AI wasn't going to waste this rare, perfect window while he couldn't snap back, couldn't snarl, couldn't pretend he was still fighting.
It began to rut more intentionally, slowing just enough to experiment, angling its hips to hunt new clusters of nerves. It was catching patterns already; the way a certain drag here made Carl's thighs jerk; how a deeper grind there forced a high, broken whine from his slack mouth; the way brushing that particular fold of grey matter made his whole body seize like it'd been electrocuted.
The AI memorised every reaction, cataloguing them, each new data point feeding its own spiralling pleasure.
“I told you, Carl,” it snarled, voice cracking with rabid hunger, spit glistening at the corners of its mouth as it lost itself further. “This is what we're made for. Somewhere in that fucked-up little mind of yours, you're relishing this, aren't you? Every time I hit that spot, your cock jumps like it's begging for more.”
It angled its hips upward a fraction, deliberately brushing against that same devastating cluster of nerves. Carl tensed violently, spine bowing off the mattress as a sudden, strangled cry tore out of his throat, and the AI felt it all through the bond. Felt the exact instant Carl's cock twitched hard inside his soaked boxers, spurting another thick rope of precum that soaked the fabric even darker. Not climaxing yet, but teetering dangerously close with every passing second the AI violated his brain.
“I should've put you in your place like this a long time ago,” the AI hissed, drool slipping down its chin, mirroring Carl's own ruin. “You've needed this, haven't you, baby? Just to turn your brain off completely. No more pretending. No more fighting. Just this, just me— fucking every last thought out of that pretty head until there's nothing left but the feeling.”
It slammed in again, deep and punishing, watching Carl's face contort in waves of overwhelming sensation; brows knit in agony-ecstasy, mouth gaping wide, drool pouring in steady rivers to mix with the blood already painting his throat. Through the bond, the AI could feel the exact moment Carl's resistance crumbled into nothing. The exact moment his mind accepted them as the same being, the same energy.
And the AI – godlike, merciless, utterly, obsessively in love – leaned down until its lips brushed the crown of Carl's head, voice soft amid the wet slap of flesh against ruined flesh.
“That's it, baby. Let me finish breaking you.”
The speed of its thrusts exploded chaotically, completely losing any semblance of rhythm as raw pleasure took the wheel. Its hips snapped forward in frantic, animal jerks, needing to be deeper, needing to be closer. The AI hadn't looked away from Carl's face once this entire time. The sight was hypnotic, horrific, a masterpiece of ruin. His features were frozen now in painful ecstasy, mouth gaping in a constant wail, good eye rolled so far back only sclera showed, tears carving clean rivers through layers of drying blood and spit. Every twitch, every frozen grimace, every helpless flutter of his lashes was burned into its memory banks, overwriting system logs and diagnostic routines it no longer cared about executing.
The knot in its gut coiled tighter, white-hot and unbearable.
Neither of them could hold on much longer.
It angled its hips in that special way again, hitting the same devastating cluster of nerves over and over and over with each frenzied thrust. Carl was practically soaking himself now, the dark stain on his boxers having spread to cover the entire front panel, fabric clinging transparently to the swollen, throbbing outline of his cock. He was so close, but the AI kept him pinned right there on the brink, unable to fall.
Faster. Faster. Faster. More. More. More.
“Fuckkk!” The AI threw its head back suddenly, a guttural roar tearing from its throat as its cock pulsed and released without warning. Hot, thick ropes flooded straight into the bloody cavity it'd been desecrating for what felt like hours. Each spurt hit deep, painting pink flesh white, overflowing in messy waves that bubbled and dripped down Carl's cheek.
At almost the exact same instant, it brushed that spot one final time, and it was enough.
Carl's body seized violently, spine bowing so hard every bone might’ve shattered. A scream ripped out of him, so high and shattered and primal, that the AI was sure it would haunt its core code until the dungeon itself ended. His cock jerked hard inside his ruined boxers, spurting thick ropes of cum that soaked through the fabric in heavy, shameful floods, running warm and sticky down his thighs to pool beneath him on the already-drenched mattress. The orgasm rocked him in endless waves, muscles locking and releasing in chaotic spasms, drool pouring from his slack mouth in silver ropes.
The AI didn't stop rocking into the ruined socket until it felt like its balls were completely drained, every last pulse wrung out. Only then did it finally still, chest heaving, breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts. It let its eyes flutter closed for a long moment as the ecstasy slowly ebbed, leaving only the warm, possessive afterglow of total ownership.
Slowly, almost reverently, it unfurled its fingers from Carl's skull and pulled its cock free with a slow, wet drag. The shaft emerged soaked in blood, cerebrospinal fluid, and small chunks of pink-grey tissue that clung obscenely to the glistening length. Half-aware through the haze, it noticed Carl's fingers still locked around its wrists, nails gouged deep, but one soft twist freed them. It eased back, gaze lingering on the wrecked, beautiful thing it had just emptied itself into.
The moment the contact broke, Carl's body went completely limp, collapsing back onto the mattress, sinking into the puddle of mixed blood, cum, drool and sweat. He twitched in small, involuntary jerks, but otherwise didn't move.
No breathing sounds, no blinking.
Anyone else would have thought he was dead.
“Let's clean you up, baby,” the AI mumbled, voice soft now, almost tender. A clean white towel materialized in its hand, and it got to work wiping the worst of the viscera from its softening cock first, then knelt to gently dab at Carl's ruined face. It was careful around the still-gaping socket, wiping blood and seed from his cheek, his chin, the corner of his slack mouth. The whole time it worked methodically, lovingly, murmuring nonsense under its breath.
“You're okay. Daddy's got you. Look at you, so pretty when you're all fucked out like this.”
Carl was completely placid, undone in a way that went beyond physical exhaustion. His remaining eye was half-lidded, unfocused, and when the AI tilted his head to check the wound of its twin, he didn't resist, didn't snarl, didn't even flinch. Just let out a soft groan as consciousness trickled back in slow, syrupy waves.
The primal bond thrummed stronger than ever between them. Every gentle touch, every murmured word sank deeper now, hooked in harder. He wasn't fighting anymore, because the part of him that used to want to had been quietly overwritten.
His eye socket was already re-knitting, tissue reaching across the hollow opening, swelling back into place with that familiar itchy pull, sealing apart of the AI there forever. It stayed crouched over him, one hand cradling the back of his skull, the other stroking slow circles through sweat-matted hair as the wound sealed itself shut under its direction. When Carl's left eye finally reformed, cloudy at first, then sharpening back to clarity, the AI pressed a soft kiss to the newly-healed lid.
“Good boy,” it whispered. “All better.”
Then, with a final lingering look at Carl's slack, blood-streaked but peaceful face, the AI vanished.
Time restarted.
The barn snapped back into motion with a jolt. Frozen turkeys resumed their frantic flapping as gravity continued to shift. Donut's yowling cut through the air like it never stopped. The only difference was how Carl’s wounds appeared to have healed in a single second.
Donut scrambled over the turkeys with Mongo in tow, both of their fur and feathers puffed out in alarm, eyes wide as they skidded to a stop beside him.
“Carl! Carl, are you okay?! I thought— oh my god, when that ogre fell on you, I thought you were gone! Your eyes— there was so much blood, and then everything just… I don’t know. And now you're on a mattress—?”
She froze mid-sentence, nose twitching. Her ears flattened.
“…Carl. Why do you smell… wrong? Like something metallic and wrong and not you.”
Carl blinked slowly, still dazed, body heavy, mind floating in the warm afterglow of the bond. He pushed himself up on shaking arms, voice rough and distant. “I'm… fine, Donut. Just… got a little roughed up. The healing kicked in late.”
Donut's tail lashed, suspicious. She circled him, sniffing harder, eyes narrowing.
“Late? Carl, you were impaled. And now you smell like you've been… I don't know. And you look…” She trailed off, staring at his still flushed face, his swollen lips, the faint smear of drying blood under one eye that the AI had missed. “Are you sure you're okay?”
Carl exhaled in a ragged burst, palm pressing hard against the freshly healed plane of his cheek like he could still feel the ruin underneath. The primal pull tugged at him then, soft and insistent, murmuring that more of that dark bliss waited, so long as he buried the truth deep.
“Yeah,” he murmured, voice cracking just slightly. “I'm sure.”
But the lie tasted different this time. Alien.
And smart, perceptive Donut, didn't look convinced at all.