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The smell of the room assailed Sergei's nose before he'd even managed to find the light switch, hand fishing along the wall just after he crossed the threshold of the frame.
It clicked on, the irritating, flickering fluorescent lights overhead buzzing to life one at a time, casting a nasty greyish-blue tinge over the mostly-barren square of oppressive, windowless concrete walls.
In the center of the room -- a bed. A sheetless, undressed mattress on a simple, metal frame. Anyone who would look at it would assume it was ancient, for all the stains, scratches, and damage to the foam. But Sergei had gotten it just that month -- two weeks ago, in fact. It had taken a beating since then, and all due to the figure laying atop it, stirring and whimpering as the fluorescent lights began to prompt him to consciousness.
Sergei watched with some degree of amusement as one of Albert's hands instinctively slipped down towards his groin, clutching at the sticky flesh there before he'd even roused to full wakefulness.
Like with everything else, perpetual neediness was an effect of the drugs. A sinister pharmaceutical cocktail of god-only-knows what.
The Colonel casually strode towards the bed, eyes combing over Albert's body as he slowly drew closer to it. Albert's porcelain skin was marred now; Glistening with sweat, streaked with red scratches, crusted patches of cum and saliva, and dotted with dark, fingerprint-sized bruises. His golden hair was filthy and matted, wayward strands stuck to his forehead. It wasn't until he was standing over the bed that Sergei could just barely hear the annoying thump and hum of whatever was being fed into the small earphones snugly plugging Albert's ears. Porn, probably. Something smutty and provocative. Sergei wondered how the younger man slept through it, but knew it was likely fueled by sheer physical exhaustion.
Albert's eyelashes fluttered as his hand continued to softly knead his sore-looking, chafed cock through the too-small torn lace panties holding on to his hips by strained-looking threads. He squinted upwards, the light clearly assailing his tired, bloodshot eyes, slowly coming into realization that he was no longer alone. His free hand crawled across the edge of the bed, reaching outwards until it meekly grabbed at Sergei's pantleg and tugged. Sergei complied with the weak gesture, side stepping until he was where Albert wanted him to be, looming over his head.
Still fondling himself, Albert twisted himself upwards in shaky, ragged moves until he was able to press his face into Sergei's groin. The older man chuckled as he looked down at the sight of Albert wantonly snuggling his crotch, nose tousling the fabric. Albert's lips opened and his tongue spilled from his mouth, dragging up and down Sergei's fly in broad, firm strokes. His bloodshot eyes flicked upwards as he continued to mouth and lap at the fabric, saliva moistening it into a darker shade of grey.
Sergei simply smiled an approving grin as he stared into the exhaustion-sagged eyelids, considering a word of praise but remembering the earbuds would have made any vocalization moot. So he sighed contently, one hand finding its way to pat condescendingly at Albert's hair, recoiling slightly when he realized a few patches were hardened with crusted cum from the previous night's staff party.
Albert would have another staff party tonight. One of his last.
Lord Spencer had tasked Sergei with ensuring Albert's schedule was sufficiently occupied for the duration of his punishment. The old man never took kindly to shows of belligerence, yet Albert, for all of his experiences with him, never failed to intentionally clash with the Umbrella patriarch. But this most recent time, Spencer had finally had enough.
There was no greater torture for the smug then complete debasement. Albert Wesker, so high and mighty striding around the compound as though he owned the place, reduced to a retarded, cum-addicted onahole for the U.B.C.S mercenaries and bitter, bossed-around lab staff.
Of course, he didn't know that.
Nor would he... until he would be shown the footage.
Sergei's eyes flicked towards the corner of the room where a simple video camera was sitting in wait for later. He was always sure to bring the tapes to Lord Spencer for his review and approval. He had to ensure the punishment was being adequately issued to the man's satisfaction, after all. Usually, Sergei could measure that satisfaction by just how quickly the Lord came while he jerked him off during the viewings.
Normally it didn't take long. Sergei sometimes wondered how much of that was his own prowess, however.
The videos were the real punishment for Albert. He'd have to watch them eventually. He'd have to assess his own cream-packed holes and drool-covered face. He'd have to listen to his own drugged-out pleas for more cock, more cum, more spit and piss; His dog-like barks, and pig-like oinks done to a cacophony of giggles and abuse. He'd have to know those videos existed, and that others knew that too.
Sergei had wondered if he'd be able to handle the embarrassment. Perhaps he'd quit.
But where could he possibly go that Umbrella didn't have purview over?
Sergei sighed again, eyes dropping back down towards Albert, who had worked himself into quite a frenzy, slurping and sucking on the patch of moist fabric he'd designed over Sergei's crotch, his free hand furiously kneading at his own hardening cock. The blond's dirty thighs trembled with every forceful tug and rub, his breathing and licking becoming more frantic with every second that passed.
As enticing as Albert always was, Sergei wasn't interested in sloppy seconds. Thirds. Tenths. Hundredths. Whatever it was. He'd just come to check on the younger man, as he occasionally did.
The Colonel brought his wrist up to check his watch, noting the time was coming close to his lunch.
Casually, he reached down and tried to push Albert away, but his wrist was quickly snatched up by Albert, who proceeded to turn his attention on the appendage. The blond slurped up his thumb eagerly, the digit becoming trapped between two walls of moist flesh, Albert's cheeks hollowing out as he firmly suckled.
Sergei rolled his eyes, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Albert was endearing, as disgusting as he was.
A dirty, braindead slab of fuck flesh, so far removed from the stoic, haughty cunt he normally tried to be. Sergei quite liked this version Albert, and thought it was a shame he'd ever have to be taken off whatever drugs he was on that made him so beautifully compliant.
Perhaps, he thought, he could convince Lord Spencer to draw out his punishment just a bit longer.
A few more parties. A few more tapes.
"Uhnnnn~"
Albert's dopey moan tickled his digit and sent a bit of a shiver up Sergei's arm. He caught the younger man's hips bucking forward, a dry orgasm wracking his body and trembling the muscles in his belly.
The Colonel smirked as Albert fell back onto his filthy mattress, the thumb he'd been orally assailing popping sweetly as it left the younger man's lips. Albert's legs clenched and his mouth gaped, a bit of drool leaking down from one corner of his lips. His eyes fluttered shut as he rode out the orgasm, back arching up slightly, bruises and scratches stretching over his rib cage as he panted deeply, seeming suddenly oblivious to the older man's presence.
Sergei wiped his hand on his pants, snorting a chuckle as he combed over the younger man's body a final time. Just as casually as he had entered, he turned on the heels of his boots and strode towards the door, slapping the light switch off as he neared the threshold.
Yes. Just a bit longer.