To Make a Concubine

A/N: Dark fic. I won't update until I get two reviews. Pretty, pretty please review? It's for a good cause. *hopeful grin*

He could hear running water as she wet a hand towel and scrubbed herself clean, then raw, trying to erase the feel of him from her skin. She turned the water hotter, used soap, anything to get clean, scrubbing her face, her breasts, her neck, and, more carefully because it was raw and still bleeding sluggishly, between her legs.

Otto’s eyes wandered around the room. There was blood staining the rumpled sheets on her bed. The thought of looking over her to make sure there wasn’t any particularly hazardous damage weaved through his fantasies of vengeance for a moment but drifted out again. He needed to clean his actuators, he needed to clean himself—as a sting in his wounded leg reminded him—and he was feeling the first pangs of hunger. It was then he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. “Are you almost finished?” He called back to Ginny without even bothering to turn his head toward the door.

"Yes..." she said, afraid to say anything else. She wanted to stay in there until she could scrub away the memory of his flesh on hers, but she didn't want him to come in after her.

Otto nodded slowly, even though he knew she couldn't see it. While he thought, he opened the bedroom door and used a tentacle to seek out the glasses he'd left in the living room. This was going to become incredibly irritating. He also needed a way to secure her while he showered. The arms weren't an issue. He'd designed them to be able to withstand moisture. Once he slid his glasses on, he pushed open the bathroom door and stood in the door way looking at her. He growled to himself when faced with the prospect of having to see everything with a grayish or brownish cast to it for the rest of his life, but didn't let himself dwell on it.

She had a towel wrapped around herself and she clutched it with some desperation. His rough treatment showed clearly on her pale skin, bites and bruises showing sharply down her neck, soft welts and lines. Her dark hair was tumbled around her shoulders, and she seemed to be hiding behind it. Her left wrist was held carefully against her chest, slightly deformed by the breaks.

Otto closed the bathroom door behind him and leaned against it, contemplating his next move. He didn't trust her not to try anything; even after all she'd been through at his hands... tentacles... It would seem he'd simply have to keep her in here where he could watch her. The doctor walked across the room and gently took her left arm. His eyes flicked over the dark bruising. It was also a bit swollen, but he'd take care of it later. "Go sit and face the wall," he told her, finally.

Pulling the towel more tightly around herself, she nodded and did as he said, sitting on the hamper behind the door. As long as I obey... I live, was running through her mind.

Otto turned on the water in the shower and sent a glance back at her before stepping into the spray. The water running down the drain ran red at first but faded and grew clear. He looked at the scratch on his calf. Though it had seemed to be bleeding quite a bit, it didn't look like it was going to need stitches or anything. He washed it with soap and then switched his attention to his actuators.

She didn't turn around, didn't look. She sat there with her forehead against the wall, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry. She hadn't been far from tears all along, and her throat ached with it, her eyes stinging. The warm, moist air felt good on her skin, but she was too aware of him to relax at all.

Otto checked again to make sure his actuators were sparkling before turning off the water. He took a towel and dried himself before wrapping it around his waist and stepping out. It was great to feel clean again. If any of what the doctors had told him was true, he hadn't taken a real shower it three months. To think of the degrading things he must have been subject to while in a coma... He caught a glimpse of his hair in the mirror and ran his hand through it. Apparently he needed a hair cut as well. "Get up and come along," Otto commanded on his way out the door.

"Can I... May I get dressed, please?" she asked meekly, following him.

"Of course. That is what I was going to tell you next." Otto didn't bother to look at her as he put his own clothes back on.

She practically sprinted into her closet, only barely remembering to leave the door open. Otto finished putting on his pants and leaned in the open door, watching her, perfectly still except for his tentacles. She pulled on the first clothes to hand, blue jeans and a heavy red sweater, keeping her back turned to him.

"Come along, Ginny." Otto gestured to her with one finger before turning and heading into the kitchen.

She hurried to catch up, stepping around bits of her broken kitchen door. She was careful to stay out of his own arms' reach, but close enough that he wouldn't feel the need to take action.

"Show me your wrist," he commanded as he flipped on the kitchen light and reached out to her with a human hand.

She held it protectively to her chest. "Please, it's broken...."

"I know. Let me see it."

Slowly, holding it with her other hand, she held it out to him. Aside from the bruising and the odd shapes below the skin, it was chafed raw from having been bound.

Otto couldn't x-ray it or cut her open to see the extent of the damage, so he had to go by sight and touch. He took the wrist from her, brushing her other hand aside, and touched it as gently as possible. There was minimal splintering. She'd need to go to a hospital as soon as he left, but he could come up with a temporary fix. "You washed this with soap, yes?"

She nodded, pale. She didn't trust him not to make it worse, but there was nothing she could do. This helplessness was almost as painful as what he had done to her.

"Very good." Behind him, his tentacles searched through drawers until he found Ziploc bags. He picked one and used his other tentacle to open the freezer. The tentacle scooped ice into the bag and wrapped a dishcloth around it. It offered the package to her. "Keep it cold until the swelling goes down. Do you have a ruler or something of that sort?"

"I might," she murmured, holding the ice against her wrist. It felt good, after the initial flinch of cold. "In my desk."

"Will you stay here and be a good girl?" Otto asked as he moved for the kitchen door.

She cringed. "Yes...."

"Good." Otto left the kitchen and found his way to her desk. He dug around in the drawers, ignoring most of the papers in there. They were bills and the like. Nothing interesting. He located the ruler, it was metal, and brought it back into the kitchen, snagging her tattered blouse on his way back. The ruler was too long, so he handed it to the actuators to break. The other two set about ripping the blouse into strips. He sat at the small table and pulled a chair out for her on the opposite side. "Sit."

She sat, laying her arm on the table. She was confused. Why was he doing this? She started to ask and then thought better of it, swallowing her questions and watching the actuators.

"Don't be afraid to ask questions, my dear." Otto watched the tentacles bend the ruler until it snapped. "I won't bite."

"Why are you doing this?" She could have been referring to him helping her now, or the entire ordeal.

Otto leaned back in the chair to think about it. How had he ended up here, like this? "Too many bad choices over the course of my life. If you're referring specifically to this current situation, though... perhaps there's still some of the old doctor left in me, and he doesn't want you to have to die for this. I'm... in a rough transitional period. In a few days none of this will matter anymore."

"What's going to happen?" she asked reluctantly.

"I haven't decided, yet. There was a man I wanted to kill, but I'm beginning to think that death isn't enough for him, at least not in the sense of losing one's life. I've seen death over and over again, even facilitated it in one form or another, and it all seems to end so quickly..." He trailed off into his own thoughts. "Do you believe in a god, Ginny? In a heaven and a hell?"

She nodded without having to think about it. She'd been Christian her whole life, raised that way. And right now, right now especially did she believe in hell.

"That must be nice," Otto mused, "believing that those who hurt or betray you will suffer for eternity sooner or later. I don't have that. I must exact my own revenge. On the bright side, I live without guilt..." He tested the edge of the ruler with his thumb to see if it was sharp.

She rather thought that was obvious. "How... how can you not feel guilty?" she asked anyway.

"All of them crossed me first. Those men at the hospital deserved to die, Osborn deserved to be betrayed, and Hammer deserves to be publicly ruined." He tilted his head at her. "Do you think I should? Feel guilty I mean."

She shivered. "What did I do?"

"Well... I didn't break your wrist until you'd tried to call the cops, and when I did it was to keep you from stabbing me."

She rubbed her wrist gingerly. "Why.... why the rest?"

Otto took her wrist and carefully guided it across the table to him. "What do you mean 'why the rest?'" He removed the ice and inspected her injury. The swelling had gone down enough.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she said carefully. "Why.... Why?” She couldn't say it, couldn't articulate the idea.

"'The rest' is a very vague description. I find it hard to believe you've never done anything wrong in your entire life. If you mean ‘why did I abduct you in the first place,’ I needed to stay somewhere tonight. It was more attractive than sleeping in that warehouse, and the company is much better." His gaze never left her hand and his voice retained the same calm, emotionally detached tone. He took the ruler and placed it on the underside of her wrist, holding it in place with his human hands. "I must warn you that this is going to hurt, but know that I'm not doing it to be malicious. Also know that this is merely a temporary fix. You should seek out a hospital as soon as possible once I leave." Otto began using the strips of cloth to bind her wrist to the temporary splint. In two places he had to push the bone back into a straight line, but he did it carefully and precisely.

She whimpered, biting her lip in pain, but showed unsuspected strength here, not pulling away or screaming. "You're going to leave?" she asked when she could speak again, breathing hard.

"I told you. Depending on whether or not I've decided on a course of action, I might leave in the morning and I might leave tomorrow evening." He finished binding her wrist and released her arm. His stomach was still pestering him under the harness. The harness. Otto's eyes dropped down to it again and he stared for a moment. It was a surreal thing, the scar tissue and the metal growing together to become one thing instead of two separate things as they had been designed. He wondered how long before the harness just grew irreparably into him. He wondered if he would care. "What do you have to eat around here?" He asked, focusing on her face to get his mind off his own body.

Ginny tested the splint with one hand. "Leftovers. Not much," she admitted nervously. She looked away from him, at the wreckage of her phone.

Otto felt the surge of panicked paranoia kicking in again but tried to keep himself under control this time. The phone was broken, she was broken, and he could handle anything she threw at him. "What are you thinking?" His words came out more accusatory and sharp than he intended but his emotions would have been betrayed by the restless twisting of his actuators, anyway.

"Nothing!" she said, her eyes snapping back to him, fearful.

"Then why were you looking at the phone?" His muscles were tense and his tentacles quivered, but he didn't lash out at her.

She shook, scooting her chair back slightly. "I wasn't," she said, denial the first thing she could think of.

"Don't lie to me, Ginny. Don't make me hurt you again." He stood up and leaned his hands on the table.

She leaned back. "I wasn't! I just... just glanced over there! Honest?"

Otto contemplated her and then sat down slowly. He rested his elbows on the table and ran both of his hands through his messy, damp hair. "Just..." He didn't look at her as he spoke. "My head's not... Just get me something..."

She got up and hurried over to the fridge. The only thing she had that she wouldn't have to cook was cereal. "Is.... are Corn Flakes okay?"

His gaze stayed on the table top. "Corn Flakes are fine."

She made the bowl, spilling some milk in her urgency, and put it in front of him, with a spoon, and then moved away from him again, hovering by the far wall.

Otto took a bite, chewing and swallowing slowly. How long had it been since he'd eaten solid foods? He had to test his stomach carefully first. It had taken the tea, earlier, but he was still being careful. There was no need to show excessive weakness in front of... His head snapped up. "You're not hungry?"

She shook her head. Her stomach rebelled at the very idea of food.

He gestured at the chair across from him with a tentacle. "Then at least sit."

"I'm fine here...."

Otto stared at her for a moment. "That wasn't a request." His voice was rough and dangerous again.

She reacted to it, returning to her seat, scooting it back from the table as much as she dared.

Otto eyed her for a moment before returning his attention to the food. However, he did reach under the table with the two lower tentacles, grab the chair, and pull it back again.

She yelped, grabbing the seat to keep from falling off. "L- listen," she said, seizing a moment of courage. "Can I please just... stay out of your way?"

"Do you find me that repulsive?" There was no anger in his voice, and he didn't look up at her. It was purely a conversational question.

She didn't know how to answer that. She didn't look at him.

"Is it how I look or what I did?" He looked up at her again, waiting for her response.

"What... what you did," she said, nervously.

"Hm... well, I suppose there's not much I can do about that now, is there?" He went back to eating and thinking about how he was going to deal with Justin Hammer. He needed to bring the whole company down, not just its boss. There were so many illegal things going on there it should be easy. It was just a matter of calling public attention to the connection between himself and Hammer Industries. How could he do that safely?

She wrapped her arms around herself and studied the table, shifting when her abused privates reminded her of what had happened. She was terrified that it would happen again, and willing to do almost anything to keep it from doing so.

Otto frowned at her. "Are you still experiencing discomfort?"

She nodded. Of course she was. He'd taken her virginity with a metal tentacle.

Otto finished the cereal and set the bowl next to the sink. "I had been considering checking to see if there's any permanent damage..." This was mostly a personal thought spoken out loud.

She instinctively closed her legs, despite being fully clothed. "No... it's not that bad...."

Otto looked at her, puzzled. "I am a doctor, my dear. Rape victims have died from blood infections. Are you sure you want to risk it?" Pink rose in her cheeks, and she chewed her lip and nodded. "Very well." He smirked sardonically. "It's not as though I can force you, right?" The tentacles hissed mechanically. She shook her head submissively, looking at the floor. Otto chuckled and stood up. The chair scraped across the floor. "Come along, dear Ginny." He gestured to her before moving back into the living room.

Listlessly, she followed him. His mention of infection was stuck in her head, though. Walking was awkward, her sex and her anus both in pain, and she could feel wetness down there that she suspected would show through her pants soon enough. How badly had he damaged her?

Otto turned the armchair back toward the television and sat down, pulling her into his lap with his actuators as another one sought out the remote control. He turned on the news, wondering what he had missed in the last three months. She yelped slightly, falling back against him. She stayed rigid, and he could feel her tremble, still terrified of him. Her wide eyes reflected the light from the screen. Otto wrapped his human arms around her and stared at the TV. "Do you watch the news regularly?" She nodded, still stiff. "Have they mentioned anything about an explosion at one of the Oscorp labs?"

"Um.... A while ago...."

"Do you remember what they said?" He pressed, his voice tinged with an undertone of urgency.

"Osborn... wasn't found responsible," she said, wracking her brains for the details. She hadn't paid that much attention, but it had been repeated ad nauseum. "Thirty two fatalities, I think... Maybe more... His son was hurt."

A thought suddenly struck Otto. "Did Norman survive?"

"I... I don't know...." she said, watching the screen without seeing. "No one knows. His house burned down the next day."

Otto thought about this for a moment, not quite sure how to respond. He'd never felt any real loyalty to Osborn or anything. He'd only gone wherever the money led him. "Hn... Norman was little more than a bag of hot air done up in a suit, anyway, I suppose. Nothing to be..." Something vaguely familiar caught his eye on the screen and he trailed off. His mind hadn't been working as well since the accident, so he had to focus to listen and remember, but... That was it! That was how he was going to expose Hammer to the world. At the presentation of the Big Apple Energy Dome Project tomorrow. There would be press there, thousands of people would be watching...

The events on the screen meant nothing to Ginny, save for the fact that he was paying attention to them. Tomorrow. Did that mean he would be gone tomorrow? Would he leave her alive?

"It looks like I'll be leaving you tomorrow morning after all." His eyes stayed on the TV but his hand was slipping between her knees. "Make sure you watch tomorrow, though. I want you especially to see it." He smirked and his hand began to wander up her inner thigh. "It would be best if you could manage to make it there to see it in person."

Her leg twitched under his hand, and she was irrationally grateful for the thick denim between them. "Wh- What are you going to do?

"Expose Justin Hammer for the underworld slime ball he really is." His hand continued up her leg, turned on by the slight shivers he felt. "I'd be inside the dome, off shore, you'd be quite safe." A finger traced up the zipper on her jeans and traced a contemplative circle around the button.

She shifted slightly, uncomfortable. 'Safe' wasn't a word that applied to her anymore.

"Really, my dear little concubine, you can't honestly believe I'd risk reacquiring you in such a large crowd of people, on a live news broadcast." His finger and thumb pinched the zipper on her jeans and pulled down slowly. "Why would I need to?" He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. "I know where to find you if I need you..." Otto breathed in her sweet scent. She smelled like fruity hand soap and apprehension. He knew he was becoming irrationally obsessive. It was the first human contact he'd had in months, and doctors didn't count either. At this stage in his life, during this transition, he needed something human close to him. He needed it to remind him of what he used to be and what he was now.

She quivered, letting out a shuddering breath. She didn't try to stop him. She would have to move. He would leave, and she would leave, and she'd never come back here. She'd go to the police, the FBI. Tell them everything. They would hide her. She just had to survive until he left....

He kissed her neck softly, sucking her salty skin. His fingers fiddled open the button and slid into her panties... and encountered warm liquid. Otto pulled his hand back and looked at the blood on his fingers. His mind was still going in and out, barely there. He knew it should make him stop. Part of him did want to stop, because he might kill her, and another part of him didn't want to stop, because he might kill her. He was losing his mind. He'd always thought if he could be lucid enough to acknowledge he might be crazy, he couldn't be... "and yet I'm still losing my mind," he muttered.

She didn't move, frozen and staring, her face turned away from him. In the light from the television, she looked bloodless and young, and fragile in a way that showed she had already been broken. Her mind was racing, and so was her heart. he could feel it through her back, against his chest.

Otto brought his fingers closer to his face until he could smell the blood, and then closer still, up to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation, and then he tasted it. It was metallic and salty at the same time. He picked her up, bridal style, with his human arms and carried her back into the bedroom. After laying her out on the bed, he pulled off her jeans and underwear with his human hands, never once touching her with the actuators. The only thing he used the actuators for was to turn off the light so he could remove the sunglasses again. "What time is it?" He asked in a low voice, not wanting to take his eyes off of her.

She didn't resist, or protest, or even move until he made the request. Covering herself with her hands, she craned her neck to see her alarm clock. "Eleven thirty," she said obediently. The room was dim, her curtains filtering out the day's light, leaving just enough that she could see him standing over her.

"Only that?" Otto smiled. "Time slides by slowly in hell, doesn't it?" He crawled on the bed between her legs. "I'm sure your exhausted, my dear Ginny. Aren't you?" He moved her hands and fingered her gently, checking to see what he'd done, and not quite sure how to feel about whatever he would find.

She fixed her eyes on a spot on the ceiling, her jaw set. Below, she was torn and swollen and bruised, blood the only moisture there. She was still tight, however. "Yes...." she murmured.

Otto started to go get a washcloth to clean her up with but hesitated. Finally, he leaned down and cleared the blood away with his tongue. It tasted sweet and tangy at the same time, like his anger. "You don't appear to be actively bleeding anymore," he whispered before tasting her blood again, probing his tongue deep into her to get it all. It was something he never would have done before, but if he was going to lose himself, he might as well embrace it entirely. When he finished, he leaned over her, propping himself on his arms. "You'll live, and you'll watch me tomorrow. Right? And I'll never bother you again. Right?"

She was crying again. His careful cleaning had hurt against the raw flesh. She nodded, her eyes shut and tears on her cheeks.

"Promise me you'll watch," he hissed. "Say, 'I promise I'll watch you tomorrow, Otto.' And mean it."

She swallowed, her narrow throat moving visibly. "I promise I'll watch you tomorrow, Otto..." she parroted softly.

"Good girl." He kissed her one more time, dipping his tongue into her mouth quickly. Sliding under the covers, he turned his back to her, letting the arms hang off on the floor, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.