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An interrogation. Agent Stone x Ivo Robotnik. Interrogation, dubcon, knives, restraints, oral, improper use of a hedgehog quill, sounding, Dr Robotnik bites off more than he can chew. Learning how to withstand interrogation should be a cake walk, right? Not with Agent Stone asking the questions. Dr. Robotnik is about to find out just how good his Agent is at this.

——————

"Okay, so. If we're gonna do this, then you'll have to, um. You're gonna have to let me be in charge." Stone grabs the back of the chair and tugs, making sure it's securely bolted to the floor.

"No shit, Agent." Robotnik settles into the chair, hands behind, looking expectant.

"No, I mean. We don't stop. We can't. If it hurts, if you're tired, if you have to pee, we keep going. And, um. I'm not going to be nice. This is too important to play around."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll believe it when I see it." It's not like Stone has it in him to really torture Robotnik, right?

Right?

Yeah, the Doctor is about to get a crash course in what Stone really gets up to when he isn't hanging around being a kiss-ass. Here's a hint: it's not all cooking and crochet.

So what ends up happening is something like this:

It doesn't matter who came up with the idea (it does matter, actually, but let's not waste time on details). What matters is Robotnik sitting in a hard chair with his wrists ziptied behind him and legs bound immobile to the chair legs. His shoulders are straining, the ties are digging into sensitive skin, and he's got an itch at the end of his nose that's driving him absolutely nuts.

"Stone. Before we get started, be a dear and itch my nose, would ya?"

Stone looks up from the table where he's laid out an array of tools: knives, mainly, but there are also some more esoteric selections: Robotnik can see jumper cables and what looks like a garlic press. Stone walks over, movement fluid and predatory. He cocks his head at Robotnik, pursing his lips, staring cold and unblinking. Without saying a word, he pulls his fist back and clocks the Doctor square across the jaw.

Robotnik takes a moment to process the sudden feeling of getting punched in the face. There's a bruise forming along his jawbone and he's cut the inside of his cheek on his teeth; bloody spit hangs from his mouth. "Ow," he says eloquently. Stone grips his Doctor's chin in his large warm hand; if circumstances were different he could be just about to cradle his Doctor's face in the prelude to a tender kiss. But in this situation, he tightens his grip to hear Robotnik whine; he forces the Doctor to look him in the eye.

"Doctor. We've already begun."

That's how it starts. The point of it all is this: Doctor Robotnik is a certified genius, perhaps mad and perhaps merely a colossal dick. He also has enough state secrets rattling around inside his head to bring down the government a thousand times over, not to mention all his pet projects with their varying degrees of lethality. Anyone with the balls to crack him open and root around in that mind would find themselves with more Intel than they'd know what to do with. To sum up: the Doctor needs to learn how to keep those secrets safely locked inside his head.

"It's not like I go around blabbing to anyone who'll listen."

"No, you also blab to anyone who doesn't want to hear it." Stone's uncharacteristically harsh, unfairly so in Robotnik's opinion.

"So what do you intend to do about it?" Belligerent asshole. He's getting defensive and that means he knows Stone is right. "Shit, you're supposed to be imparting some great wisdom here. Tell me why you're wasting time bitching at me?"

———————

And here Stone is straddling Robotnik's lap; maybe he's always wanted to be here and maybe Robotnik takes half a second to consider calling him out on it; he opens his mouth like he's about to say something cutting. "Don't," Stone growls, low and dangerous. He shifts a little closer, close enough that he could count the flecks of brown in his Doctor's eyes. He rests the point of his pocketknife at the very tip of Robotnik's nose. "Don't be stupid." He rolls his hips just the tiniest bit, teasing. "Now, recite the alphabet."

"What?" Now Stone moves the blade to the rim of Robotnik's nostril; he flicks the knife to make a small shallow cut. Robotnik howls as blood begins to drip from his nose. "What the fuck, asshole! That hurt!"

"Was it not supposed to? I’m so very sorry, would you like to speak to my supervisor?" The Doctor spitting in his face is hardly a surprise, although Stone can't suppress the way his pupils dilate. Nothing else changes, though; he's still heavy on Robotnik's thighs, still holding his hand steady. "Alphabet. Now."

Robotnik opens his mouth— whether to comply or to curse is unclear— but Stone's other hand darts forward to grab at the Doctor's lower jaw in a parody of their usual position. His hand's jammed in there far enough that Robotnik can't even get the leverage to bite down; all he can do is glower. Stone's hand is broad and thick-fingered; it tastes of salt and metal and oh. Oh no. This isn't supposed to happen.

Robotnik is getting hard. Stone notices because how could he not— he's practically sitting on Robotnik's cock, after all— and he raises an eyebrow. "Interesting." He withdraws his hand, smearing spit over Robotnik's face; leaning back, he trails the point of his pocketknife down Robotnik's philtrum, over lips still slick and wet, coming to rest in the center of the Doctor's lower lip. "First letter. Now."

Robotnik says nothing, though he's gone nearly cross-eyed with the effort to keep the blade in his sights. Stone shifts on his lap again, heavy and warm, and how the hell is he keeping his hand so steady? There's half a second where Robotnik considers opening his mouth; there are an abundance of nerves in human lips and he knows this, knows that if he doesn't comply he'll have a cut that will bother him for days. And that's the good outcome. But that moment is fleeting; this is important, and besides there's no way he's going to be bested by his fucking assistant.

"You know I'll outlast you, Doctor. Giving and receiving pain is part of my training, after all. And I've kept in practice. Keep resisting and you'll find out just how good I am at this."

"You won't really do anything. I bet you're already at your limit." Is Robotnik really that arrogant? Perhaps he's distracted by the pressure against his cock. Perhaps he's very stupid in one single very specific area.

The flick of the knife is quick, slicing shallowly into the center of Robotnik's lower lip. The knife is sharp and it cuts so beautifully, parting flesh like it's licking through the folds of a lover; Stone holds the blade steady with a hand that doesn't shake or waver. Stone the acolyte is gone. Only Stone the agent remains, hardened and cruel, dark eyes gone to flint and mouth fixed in a smile that's not a smile. Rather, it's the toothy snarl of some carnivorous creature, some predator that's caught the scent of blood. He could be called a shark if one were to excuse the cliche. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that. Too bad it'll only make this harder for you."

"Eat shit and die." Robotnik's chin is striped with blood that trails down his throat, maddening in its slow crawl like the feeling of spiders' feet as gravity pulls the blood to pool in the hollow of his throat. His lip stings with the bright burn of the fresh cut.

"What are you waiting for? Your precious lapdog isn't going to rescue you. It's just you and me. All I need from you is a list of letters. No harm in that, is there?" Stone's knife traces lower, slicing away the buttons of Robotnik's shirt; they ping as they hit the floor and roll away to parts unknown. He maps the constellations of freckles on the Doctor's chest, drawing fine lines between them thin as papercuts.

"Nnngh." Sweat runs into Robotnik's cuts and it stings.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. if I intended it to scar, you'd know. And it wouldn't be somewhere so easily hidden. No, this is just a little treat for you and me." Robotnik doesn't reply. He merely pants and glowers, eyes tight.

"Hm, you're tougher than I thought." Stone taps the flat of the knife against his teeth a moment, thinking. "Then again, perhaps I just haven't applied the correct type of… persuasion. What are a few little cuts to the great Doctor Robotnik?" He reaches into his inner jacket pocket. "Maybe this is more your speed."

"Well, shit," Robotnik says when he sees Stone holding a quill between thumb and forefinger, its length glowing faintly blue. What could Stone possibly— "you know I’m not scared of that, right?"

"Mmm, I know. Frightening you isn't the point. That's only one way of extracting information, but you seem to lack the fear of pain that most reasonable people have. It only makes you angry. No, sweetheart. There's another weakness here to exploit." Stone trails the end of the quill over Robotnik's lips, pressing its point into the cut. There's a sound like that of a bug zapper claiming another victim; electricity courses through the Doctor's body.

"Fuck—" Robotnik shouldn't be able to feel his pupils dilating. It's scientifically impossible, and yet. And yet he would swear up and down that he feels it. "Oh…"

"You liked that, huh?" Stone smiles all sharptoothed and mean— and it's so strange seeing him like this, all of his hard cruelty pulled to the fore— lifting the quill so it's hovering just above the Doctor's skin, close enough for a faint buzz of static but not close enough. "What would you do for more?"

"Why don't you come here and I'll show you?" Robotnik snaps his teeth, making it very clear just what he would do.

"Tch. I can feel you, y'know? You're strung so tight, I’m willing to bet you just need a little push and you'll give me everything I want and more."

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Robotnik complains, trying to cow Stone with the power of his glare. "If you're not actually going to show me anything useful, untie me. I've got things to do." Stone sighs, folding the pocketknife shut as he leans back. Then he draws his hand back and slaps the Doctor across the face. It's not that hard of a hit— their proximity makes it impossible to get enough leverage for that— but it's humiliating, burning red across Robotnik's cheeks.

"Doctor. Ivo." Stone wraps one thick hand around Robotnik's throat, pressing in from either side; his face seems to pulse with dark spots as blood ceases to flow to the Doctor's brain. "You seem to be under the impression that you still have some control here." Everything goes dark. The last thing Robotnik sees before losing consciousness is Stone leaning in close to his ear. "I can be patient, Doctor. In the end, you won't just be unable to resist— you won't want to."

———————

"Wake up, sunshine." Robotnik rises toward consciousness slowly. Hearing returns before his other senses do; the voice in his ear is low and rough, husky almost like a lover's. Touch comes next, with a breezy chill that whispers over his skin and leaves gooseflesh in its wake.

Wait.

"What the— why am I naked?"

"Aww, that's cute. You think you can ask questions, huh?" Robotnik is still tied to the chair, though he must have been untied at some point because his clothes are off. "Have you forgotten why you're here?"

There's something cool and hard trailing over Robotnik's chest, sparking across the shallow cuts. Not the knife again, it's too blunt for that. Robotnik stares down at what Stone is holding. He's got that damnable quill again, and it's headed south. Stone wouldn't— "you wouldn't dare."

"Mmm, wouldn't I? Oh, my dear Doctor. I've learned a little bit about you, y'know? I know what you like, what you think about when you're alone." The quill traces lower still, leaving a slickly shining trail of what Robotnik hopes is lube in its wake, until Stone can drag its point over Robotnik's shaft. "I know what this little toy does to you."

"You're not gonna— you can't. It won't fit."

"I think you'll find that it will." Stone smiles that cold smile again. his hand moves.

Robotnik's entire body goes rigid as the quill slides into his cock. It's like nothing he's ever felt, hot and cold all at once, fiery and electric, brushing over nerves that have never been touched before; he has no frame of reference for this and so he has no idea how strong the feeling should be, or how powerful it can get. Should he try to jerk back, away from the sensation? No, it's— it's too—

Doctor Ivo Robotnik— the most brilliant mind of his or any generation, cruel, cutting, uncaring, vicious Robotnik— moans. The sound is drawn up from somewhere deep in his guts; he couldn't stop it even if he had the presence of mind to try. It's mortifying, especially in front of St— his captor. But the sensation is so much. What else can he do?

"You like that, hm? I can give you more. Let's trade. Give me what I want, and I'll make you feel so good."

"Fuck— fuck no. Over my dead body."

"Pity. I'd so hoped to see what you look like when you come undone." Stone draws the quill out with agonizing slowness. "Here I thought I'd be nice. Make it easy on you." The end of the quill stops just a hairsbreadth away from Robotnik's cock, blue light arcing between them. And Robotnik doesn't chase after it. He doesn't.

He absolutely does. He lifts himself off the chair seat as best he can, trying to get back that stimulation; his cock is flushed deep angry red and it hurts, it hurts, this is impossible—

"Asshole," Robotnik says, rough and raspy.

"Mmm, hadn't planned on that. But maybe next time, if you behave yourself. Can you be a good boy for me?" A bead of precum wells up from Robotnik's cock; his captor scoops it up with a finger and smears it over the Doctor's tongue. "There, can you taste how badly you need it? Deny yourself all you want, but in the end your body is going to make the choice for you."

And so it goes. Stone dips the end of the quill into Robotnik's cock, parting the glans; he slides it deep to touch fresh raw nerves, then draws it out with near inhuman slowness and begins it all again. Robotnik trembles and sweats and claws back his composure. Well. He tries, anyway. But he's been riding the razor's edge for so long, every touch is agonizing. It's— well, it's torture.

"…a…" Robotnik's voice is so quiet, it's barely more than a breath. Stone goes very still, planting a hand on the chair back and leaning in close.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"I, ah. A. The first letter is A. Just. Please. I can't take this."

"There, now. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Stone moves to kneel in front of Robotnik then, looking up through long dark lashes. "That's one down. I think you've earned a reprieve." He slides the quill into Robotnik's cock again and oh god please it's so much, he's going to explode—

"Please don't stop. Not this time. Please, Stone." Robotnik's words falter, giving way to thick filthy moans as Stone finally, finally gives him what he needs, wrapping his other hand around Robotnik's cock, twisting it on the upstroke dry and mean, and it's all too much too quick, all ice and lightning and Robotnik is going to die here isn't he—

The next time Stone strokes Robotnik's cock, he withdraws the quill, reaching blindly up to shove it between his Doctor's teeth, sending electricity through him from top to toes. He swallows the Doctor down, pushing past his gag reflex to take him down to the root. Stone hollows his cheeks and sucks.

Like that— as close to the edge as he is— with a moan that pitches up nearly to a scream, Robotnik comes undone. He cums so hard his vision goes white, electricity and wetness and heat overwhelming him and taking his brain offline.

———————

Stone checks his watch. "Three hours, sixteen minutes. Not bad for your first time. We'll have to work on your endurance, though."

"Maybe if you didn't act like a dog in heat the whole time. I mean, really? Sitting on my lap?"

"It's true, though. pleasure's a good motivator. A reward, instead of the absence of punishment."

"And I suppose you know this from experience."

"I— yeah. I do." Stone looks away then, face carefully neutral. A connection forms in Robotnik's brain. A lightbulb turns on.

"It worked on you, didn't it?"

Stone says nothing for a long while, standing turned away with his hands deep in his pockets. And then— "it did. A long time ago, when I was young and stupid. It was a training exercise. I almost didn't make it through the Academy."

"Must've been a hell of an interrogator to break you."

"…"

"That was— oh, hell. That was meant to be a compliment." Still, Stone remains quiet, though some of the heaviness seems to have lifted from his shoulders. "You realize we are going to talk about this. Later."

"Of course, Doctor. As you say."

"Now get your ass over here and untie me. Then we are going to lie down and you are going to be the little spoon and that's final."

And that's exactly what they did.

#🫦#im insane over this

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