Pain Management

Chapter 3: Observation

It had been three days since you'd been thoroughly ruined on Law's exam table, three days since you laid open and exposed for him to manipulate and manhandle, three whole unbearable days that you hadn't stopped thinking about the way his fingers felt, the heat of his breath on your bare leg, the honeyed words of praise that settled in your psyche.

It had been three days that you had been avoiding Law as much as you possibly could, which turned out to be no simple task in a metal vessel that felt more and more like a shoebox every day, as you drifted through the ocean with no plans to head topside to a port anytime soon. The Polar Tang was a beautiful and frightening beast, and you were grateful that there was so much for you to learn—despite the close quarters, you were able to keep your interactions with your captain—your doctor—relatively infrequent, limited to occasional uneasy glances in the mess hall and keeping your eyes fixed on the floor while he gave orders to whomever happened to be standing next to you.

It had been three days that you had managed to escape his looming figure, and you tucked yourself into bed to read, keeping your fingers crossed you could make it to four. As your fingers slid across the page and read aloud to yourself in a sleepy mumble, an urgent and sudden knock at your door vibrated through your quarters. The hefty piece of metal starting to creak open before you'd even opened your mouth to ask who it was. You sat up in your bed, pulling your knees towards your chest when you realized it was Law filling up the open space in the doorframe.

"Just wanted to check in with my patient." He closed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, not troubling himself with waiting to be invited in. "It seems like you've been avoiding me."

You set the book on your nightstand slowly, as if avoiding any sudden movements would keep you from becoming prey. "Not on purpose. I've just been working a lot."

The lie rang hollow even to you, and the way Law cocked his head and blinked at you told you he didn't believe a damned word.

"That's good you're keeping busy," he smiled, voice tinged with condescension. "I just wanted to make sure you've been following the instructions I gave you."

You sat up straighter, pulled the blankets a little tighter over you. "What do you mean?"

He took a few steps further into your space. "Well, I gave you very specific instructions when you left. Have you been administering your treatments?"

You stared at him, mouth slightly open, the machinations in your brain stalling for a moment. "Are you–are you asking me if I've been masturbating?"

"If you want to put it that way, sure."

"I... I can't say that I have," you stumbled. Despite your best intentions, despite the rich sound of Law's voice reverberating through your bones, you found it all but impossible to even attempt to pleasure yourself. You told yourself over and over again that it was the painful humiliation of losing yourself in front of your captain under the cold fluorescent lights that kept you from wanting to so much as place a hand on your body the wrong way. It was only in brief moments of honesty and clarity that you even began to let yourself acknowledge that it was also because you worried it simply couldn't feel as good as it did with his fingers crooked inside of you.

"Tch," he scoffed. "I gave you very clear directions."

Your chest tightened, as if you were wearing a shirt three sizes too small and it was shrinking ever smaller with each breath. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll—I'll make sure I do from here on out 'til I see you again."

You needed him to believe you. You needed him to believe you, and you needed him to leave your room before you found yourself wanting him to do unspeakable things to you again.