Leo's lying on the mat with his legs spread, slick from being fucked and fingered opened, eyes on the ceiling. His sister-mistress is kneeling over him, and their master is watching them, and things feel just right enough for him not to fight.
In. Out. In. Out. Back and forth like his heartbeat, like a pendulum, like the distant thump of pain that always lives in Leo's head these days. Karai's fingers are those of a warrior's, callused and skilled, but they feel strange and clumsy inside him.
Another finger, and oh, he is full. Leo sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
"That's it," their master says. "You're doing so well, daughter."
Is she? It's hard for Leo to tell. But Master Shredder says she is, so she must be. Emboldened, she pushes her fingers even deeper and Leo's thighs flex with a fresh spurt of pleasure-pain. His instincts are screaming at him to push run fight, but that's not allowed, so he shouldn't even be thinking about it.
Leo opens his eyes to peer up into Karai's green ones. Her face is blank the way they both get sometimes, forked tongue flicking between her lips in concentration. Flick, flick, flick, in time with her dancing fingers. No new ones seem to be arriving, and Leo's almost relieved until he realizes that must be because all five are inside already.
He looks at her and nothing looks back, and she plays with his insides, and at some point Master Shredder speaks from where he's sitting besides them to say, "Now, make a fist."
And really, what did he expect?
It hurts. Of course it hurts. But her knuckles are pressing up against his prostate, filling him with pleasure even as he heaves for air, so that probably makes up for it. And nothing's tearing, so that's good. He'll still be able to fight for Master when they get out of here
(if they get out of here).
Master tells Karai to move, slowly punching in and out of Leo's hole, fucking him with her fist. He groans, nails digging into his wrists from where they're crossed over his head, hard enough to draw blood.
But Master told him to keep still, so he'll keep still like a good boy, and maybe, maybe...he doesn't know, exactly, what he's hoping for, why he's doing this. He just knows it's worth the pain and the fear, the blank look in Karai's eyes and the empty spots in his own head.
So when Master Shredder says, "Transform your hand," Leo doesn't scream or cry. He just lies there, staring up at Karai through distant white eyes, waiting.
But there's something different in her empty gaze, something off. She cocks her head and relaxes her fingers, slowly withdrawing her hand.
"Karai." Her father's voice is a chilly wind that freezes her in place. "I won't ask you again."
She pushes her hand back in automatically, filling him up. But she leans forward as she does, until her bare breasts are brushing his chest. Leo opens his mouth, welcoming. Wanting. Needing.
Hurt me. Please. I deserve it, I.... He doesn't know what his sins are, but they must be legion. Why else would he be here, in this place?
Except, sometimes he looks up at the movements of her muscled body, the light flickering in and out of her eyes, and he feels like he's in heaven, instead. So does that mean he wants--what, exactly? What does he want?
Does it matter? It's going to happen to him anyway. And he's not as scared as he should be.
Her hand turns to scales as their lips touch. Her tongue shoves up against his prostrate and he comes screaming and bleeding, filling her mouth with his pain. She drinks his ruin down like a communion wine.
They are tangled-up puppets on her father's stage, and the strings fray as they fall together.