wow no seriously stop me please

Pairing: Oncest

Rating: M

Summary: The Greed-ler kidnaps the Once-ler, handcuffs him to a stripper pole, and forces him to dance. Based on this and this picture.

Warnings: Non-consensual grinding, molestation, kidnapping, traumatized Once-ler, general creepiness, and two instances of biting

AO3

The Once-ler woke up without any idea where he was or how he got there.

It was too dark to see anything, which he was a bit grateful for, as he was only wearing his hat at the moment. He was less pleased with the handcuffs that kept him trapped on a pole.

He almost thought this was another of Brett and Chet’s pranks; except this was a bit better than anything they could pull. They really shouldn’t have followed him out here, so it was really unlikely they would pull this even if they could.

Whoever had managed to get him in this situation was irrelevant to getting out of it right now, so he quickly pushed the matter aside for another time.

He spent several minutes trying every trick he could think of to escape, eventually kneeling next to the pole as he blindly fiddled with the handcuffs.

At that point, green spotlights blinded the Once-ler as he heard the sound of someone approaching. He turned towards the sound, looking more like a deer caught in headlights than he would care to admit.

There was a man in a green suit strolling towards him, seemingly unbothered by finding a naked man handcuffed to a pole.

“Hello?” the Once-ler said, “could you help me out of these handcuffs? I don’t know how I got here, but I really would like to leave.”

The man sat in a large chair and regarded him with a look of amusement that left the Once-ler feeling distinctly uneasy.

“Oh, and could I get some clothes too?” the Once-ler added with an awkward laugh. “I’m not sure where mine are.”

“No,” the man said, “You aren’t leaving, and if you want your clothes back, you’re going to have to dance for them.”

 “What?” the Once-ler snapped angrily, “you can’t-“

“I can. You, however, are at my mercy. You can’t afford to anger me.” The man put his feet on top of the stage the pole was attached to. “I could have you drugged, beaten, killed, the list goes on and on. I know for a fact that no one will report that you’re missing.”

He paused to light a cigar and blow a cloud of smoke at his captive, just to discomfit him further.

“I’ve already kidnapped you. At this point, I could do whatever I want with you.”

All the color drained from the Once-ler’s face as he stared at the madman who was smoking a cigar and leering at him.

Why would this man even kidnap him? He’s just some lanky adult living in a forest. Surely this had to be some sort of mistake or a nightmare or something.

“Please,” the Once-ler choked out past his burgeoning fear, “let me go.”

The man ignored his request and instead threw some dollar bills at the stage with the most terrifying smile the Once-ler had ever seen.

“Now that I’ve set the proper mood for you, you are going to dance on that pole for me,” he said as his smile gained a maniacal edge.

The Once-ler just stared at him, and watched as something dark and terrifying developed in his captor’s eyes.

“Stand up and dance,” the madman snarled.

The Once-ler grabbed onto the pole and pulled himself up. He awkwardly shuffled around the pole, doing his best to keep himself as covered as he could without interrupting his embarrassed pseudo-dance.

The man watched him intently, coaxing and critiquing him until the Once-ler actually looked like he was pole dancing.

The Once-ler could feel a heavy ball of shame crushing his stomach and making him feel ill. He daydreamed, for a moment, about passing out on stage and having this misery end, but looked at his captor and decided he would rather not know what would happen after that.

The man had stripped him and handcuffed him to a stripper pole the first time he was unconscious, but things could have been so much worse.

He pulled himself close to the pole and wrapped his leg and one hand around it before flinging his other arm out and throwing his head back with a look of absolute misery at the man lounging in his bright green suit.

The man gave an appreciative hum as he pulled a green garter from his pocket and waved it mockingly at his unwilling dancer.

“You’ve finally earned some clothes,” he declared with a smirk, “now, lift up your leg for me.”

The Once-ler flushed bright red with a stomach curdling mixture of horror and shame while he grudgingly obeyed his captor. The man pulled the garter up slowly, gently pressing his hands along as much of his victim’s leg as he could. The Once-ler determinedly stared elsewhere, trying desperately to ignore the caresses and smug looks his captor was forcing upon him.

The man just laughed at the Once-ler’s minor defiance. The Once-ler turned away from his tormentor and clung to the pole as the man continued running his hands up and down the Once-ler’s legs. The musty smell of cigar smoke was suffocating from this close.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” he said with a leer, “Smile for daddy.”

The man grabbed a few bills from the pile he had thrown at him earlier and pushed them into the garter as he watched his captive suppress quivers of fear and disgust underneath his hands.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think I was the only one having fun here.” The man released the Once-ler

“That’s just no good,” he said with a mocking laugh.

He pulled back from the Once-ler, and just looked at him with half-lidded eyes and a smug smile that promised a thousand things, none of which the Once-ler wanted. 

“If you make me believe you’re enjoying this, you can stop,” he said, satisfaction all but radiating off of him, “so smile for me, darling. I want to see some enthusiasm.”

The Once-ler replaced his miserable grimace with the brightest, emptiest smile he could manage.

This trial couldn’t be over soon enough, in the Once-ler’s opinion. He tried to dance with the minimal amount of energy that could pass for enthusiasm. His pride was already in tatters at this point, what did a little enthusiasm matter? Still, he couldn’t let go entirely. He had to resist just a little. He felt like something irreplaceable and precious would be lost if he didn’t.

His half-hearted performance was not good enough for his captor.

The man gave a displeased huff, and sank into his chair. He stared at the Once-ler as an idea for proper compensation began to form inside his head.

“Dear, this isn’t near good enough. You’re capable of so much better!” the man said, practically purring. He straightened up with a terrifying gleam in his eye.  “I think we’re going to have to try something new. This just isn’t cutting it anymore.”

He climbed up onto the platform, trapping the Once-ler against the pole with his body.  The Once-ler was nearly hyperventilating, desperation and fear shining on his face.

The man pulled a key from he pocket and dangled it from his green gloves, holding it mere inches from the Once-ler’s face.

The key was so close, and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Now, I am going to unlock these handcuffs, and you are going to listen to everything I say. If you try to run, there are guards outside who are just waiting for a chance to bring you down.” He laughed and curled his free arm around the Once-ler’s waist. “They don’t care about you like I do, dear. They just want to see you bleed.  If you try to run, I can’t guarantee you’ll survive. Understood?”

The Once-ler gave a terrified squeak when he tried to agree. He flushed with embarrassment and just nodded, not willing to risk his vocal cords’ mutiny again.

His captor chuckled, the sound vibrating against the place his chest was pressed against the Once-ler. He then unlocked the handcuffs and pulled the Once-ler away from the pole and towards his chair.

His hands wrapped around the Once-ler’s wrists in a nearly bruising grip. The Once-ler tried to protest, but was silenced when the man bit the Once-ler’s lips.

The man looked at the Once-ler’s startled face and bleeding lips and hummed his satisfaction.

“Now,” he said, pulling the Once-ler off of the platform, “you are going to try a different dance.” His eyes flashed a silent warning. “I hope, for your sake, this dance turns out better than the last.”

He sat in the chair, dragging the Once-ler down into his lap. His gloves wrapped behind the Once-ler’s head, and he pushed a brutal kiss against his lips. He pulled back, and licked the blood off his own lips before drawing his tongue against his cut on the Once-ler’s lips.

The Once-ler jerked away from his captor and stared at him with wide eyes. “The dance, you couldn’t mean… You don’t want me to sleep with you, do you?”

The man laughed and pulled him closer.

“I was talking about a lap dance before I was distracted.” He laughed again and gently nipped the Once-ler’s throat. “You may want to show some real enthusiasm, dear, or you may wind up in my bed without any sleeping involved.”

The man grinned, and the Once-ler thought he had found the new most terrifying smile in existence. The Once-ler considered a lap dance the lesser of two evils, in light of that smile.

“How do I, ah, lap dance, then?” the Once-ler asked hesitantly. The man’s smile was nearly blinding.

“Just sit on my lap and move,” he ordered, “that ought to be good enough for your first try.”

The Once-ler nodded and began gently rocking his ass against the other’s crotch to the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears. He turned his head to look at the man through his eyelashes, tentatively watching his reaction.

If the Once-ler could have seen the picture he made, grinding against another man, gazing up at him with his beautiful blue eyes half-open, he would have been mortified. The Once-ler’s lips were stained pink with his own blood, and the other could see his mark upon those slightly parted lips.

The man wrapped his hands around the Once-ler’s hips and pushed him to move just a little bit faster, a little bit harder as his pleasure began to build.

The warm, familiar ache of arousal took hold of his body and he groaned, watching and feeling and owning the Once-ler as he moved.

The Once-ler was busy pretending it was someone else grinding against some stranger who had taken him from his home and hurt him- but no, that was someone else. He was okay. Someone else was here, and he was okay.

While the Once-ler was busily thinking of all the things he wasn’t, the man slipped one hand down to play with the garter in the exact same shade of green as his suit, internally comparing it to a collar locked around the Once-ler’s neck.

His gloved hand starting teasing the flesh around the garter, taking further pleasure in the soft cries of discomfort and warm flesh beneath his gloves.

When the other was touching the Once-ler, it grew that much more difficult to pretend he was okay. That man’s hands were searing into his skin. This wasn’t okay. Oh god, nothing would make this okay.

Why did this have to happen to him? 

The man’s moans started getting loader and his eyelids fluttered shut. The Once-ler saw his chance to end this horrific nightmare, and started frantically grinding against the other.

The other let the pleasure build until at last he let go with a final cry. He slumped down in his chair and basked in the afterglow as his captive tried very hard not to think about the damp warmth of the man’s sperm against his ass.

The Once-ler tried even harder not to think about what he had just done, or what might happen later. He refused to let himself consider his feelings. He could not break down in tears, not in front of this man.

The man roused himself from his boneless slump and wrapped his arms around the Once-ler’s waist.

“Mmm, very good, dear. We’ll have to do this again some time,” he whispered against the Once-ler’s ear. “For now, though, we’re done.”

He pulled himself and his victim out of the chair to their new, shared bedroom, where the Once-ler found that he actually would be literally sleeping with his captor.

Trying to sleep with the man curling himself around the Once-ler made even this a traumatic event.

Eventually, the Once-ler did manage to fall asleep to dreams filled with darkness, terror, a mocking smile, and grasping green gloves searing holes in everything they touched.