Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the first time ever that Dib was about to walk into Zim’s base, Dib was nervous. Not full of adrenaline, excitement, concentration and determination – no, he was plainly nervous.

It might have to do with the fact that he had not been able to masturbate successfully even once in the last two days. Whenever he had been turned on enough that he was getting somewhere, Zim’s horrible green bug face had appeared inside his fantasies, grinning, whispering, holding him down, and making the real Dib rip his hand away with embarrassment and go have a cold shower.

Sexual thoughts regarding Zim were not exactly new to him. He knew that he found Zim somewhat hot, and there had been the occasional wet dream. And he could still remember in embarrassing clarity how he had once (three times) come off to the thought of vivisecting Zim. But that had been fantasy. Silly, extreme ideas that he had no intent of ever acting upon.

These thoughts that had haunted him in the last days, on the other hand, were far too close to the reality he was currently living. Some of his “fantasies” had basically just been replays of what had happened during the streams. And those things were very likely to happen once again, in about two hours.

He could not let Zim or the hundreds of thousands of viewers know what these things were doing to him. How Zim of all people made him feel. That would be worse than anything he could imagine. Maybe even so bad that it wasn’t worth the risk after all, just for learning irken.

Still, somehow, he moved forwards.

And maybe, if he would be completely honest with himself, he would realize that the language lessons were not the only incentive at play.

Luckily, the games they decided to play did not wander into unwanted directions this time. First, they played Russian Roulette with a taser gun with only one bullet, trying to act stoic while panicking on the inside, and then loudly laughing when the other got hit and doubled over in pain. It hit Dib once, and Zim twice. Next on had been physical challenges: arm wrestling, enduring pain or heat or cold, flexibility tests. That had become very heated at times, but in an angry way, not in a … way that would have made Dib nervous. The only threat right now was losing the clown puppy game this time.

All good (tolerable) things come to an end however, and before long, it was time to do another thing that the viewers wanted them to do. And today, they wanted them to play an undressing game where they had to lose clothes for every round that they lost. The ask did not specify a game, so Zim and Dib decided on Smash Brothers because it was popular and they both had no experience with it yet. They played the tutorial and some exercise rounds for a while, and it was fun, even with the threat of losing clothes hovering ominously on the edge of their consciousness.

Then they started. And after a few of the most boring and clumsy Smash Brothers games the world had ever seen they had both lost their shoes and socks, and Zim had lost his shirt. His frame was tense and angry and when he lost the next game, he smashed the controller down and spew insults at Dib, who was heartily laughing at his expense – and mercilessly staring him down when he was getting rid of his black leggings. Part of Dib had first hesitated to stare at Zim when he was undressing, not wanting the followers or Zim to think that he was enjoying this. But damn it, curiosity was one of his biggest hallmarks and there was so much new knowledge that Zim’s bare body presented him with. He studied the poreless skin, the few scars that seemed to gather only in certain areas, his three toes and the absence of birthmarks or any other crevices like a bellybutton. He’d definitely write down notes later this evening.

He might have been a little too lost in thought because the next game was a very quick victory for Zim. Dib braced himself, clenching his teeth before pulling off his t-shirt, but well, it wasn’t like Zim and the followers had not seen him like this before. His next loss was a whole other story. He hated how Zim also kept staring at him while he pulled off his jeans until he was left in tight black boxers.

“Okay, uh. The next loser just loses in general, and then we put our clothes back on?”

He looked at Zim, rather pleadingly. It was obvious that the chat wanted them to keep playing until they lost their boxers, even if they hid or censored themselves. But that was definitely a hard boundary for Dib.

Zim was thinking the same. But that ending felt too unsatisfactory to him. So he kept looking at the chat, until he found one user with a better suggestion.

“Let’s say the loser has to stay like this for the rest of the stream, while the winner gets to redress.”

Dib clenched his teeth. That felt highly unfair. And exciting.

“Fine.”

And Dib lost. Of course. He grumbled and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he watched how Zim put on his clothes again and shot him some amused glances. His eyes wandered to the clock and with a grunt he noticed that they still had about 30 minutes left in the stream – and 15 minutes until the end of their clown puppy game. His eyes focused on the little trophy on his belt. He really had to be careful now not to lose it anymore.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Hmm”, Zim said and took some papers into his hands while watching Dib with a scrutinizing look. “For one, I would say, you could try to get out of your current predicament.”

“My current predica-?“ Dib repeated before the grin on Zim’s face and the movement of his hand in the paper stack registered. There was a low click, and then his arms and ankles were pressed tightly against Dib’s chair. He looked down and saw that rings of metal had shot out of the legs and backrest of the chair, connecting to it with a line of blue light and pressing Dib’s limbs firmly against the chair. His arms were bound at the length of his elbows as well as at the length of his wrists, making moving them impossible.

“You fucking bastard”, Dib called out, panicked. “Why are you – what is this about??”

The grin still had not disappeared from Zim’s face as he was standing up and slowly closing their distance. It made chills run through Dib’s body. He squirmed in his binds, trying to find a weak spot, trying to get them to dodge even a little. Then Zim elegantly moved his legs over his lap and behind him, sitting down on his lap while pressing their bodies flush together. Dib blushed, trying his mightiest to lean backward, but Zim was right in front of his face, so close that Dib could make out the slight glint on his lower lip.

“Thank you very much for this little one”, Zim purred, harshly ripping the clown puppy from Dib’s belt. “So nice of you to give it over to your future overlord without much of a fuss this time.”

“Fuck you, Zim”, Dib said, eying the puppy and trying to twist his body in a way that could bring it back to him. “That’s not fair.”

“After your little trick at the end of the last session, I felt like a little payback was due”, Zim shrugged, pressing his open hand against Dib’s throat, but then gently letting it wander down Dib’s chest. There was nothing Dib had ever wished for more than for more clothes at this particular moment. And for Zim to stand up before his body reacted in a way that would be very easily visible in his tight boxers. 

“But don’t give up yet, Dib-worm – you still have about 15 minutes left. Go on and surprise me by finding a way out of this. I’ll gladly show that I can also just take it from you in a fist fight.”

Annoyed that Dib was averting his eyes, Zim harshly grabbed his hair in order to force him to look Zim in the eye. Dib growled at him.

With one last chuckle, Zim finally stood and turned towards the camera again.

“Be amazed at the superiority of Zim!” he called out dramatically. “And well. As the Dib is currently physically restricted, let us just use the rest of our time for some questions from the chat. Please write any burning questions, and we’ll choose the ones that interest us or that keep being repeated in the chat.”

The questions were flying over Dib’s head, many of them not as interesting and scary as he had feared. Two questions addressed his past sexual interpersonal activities, and they were very quickly answered because he had not had any yet besides some awkward fumbling and dry humping with Gretchen at the end of his high school years. He perked up when Zim was sharing some more interesting information – he apparently only started masturbating at the beginning of last year, and he had tried out sex toys once or twice – but mostly his concentration was being put into finding any way out of those horrible tight binds.

He couldn’t lose their game. He couldn’t. Especially considering his naked state now. But the metal would not budge, and he could not reach his pockets, and his mouth could not reach anything either. He could move the chair somewhat with the help of awkward hopping motions, but there was nothing in the room that seemed like he could utilize it. He would need a laser, welding equipment or maybe an ion destabilizer to get through the chains. His best chance might be the remote control that Zim had used to snap his trap shut, but it was resting comfortably in Zim’s hand, and sometimes Zim would let his eyes wander from the remote to him and then grin, and Dib would shake in his binds with hot anger.

“Well, there is another one that they all want to know quite urgently. What’s your greatest kink, Dib?”

“Uh. Edge and denial”, Dib answered without thinking. A few seconds passed and only then did he start blushing.

“Edge? Denial?” Zim repeated. “What’s that? Like, painful weapon edges? And denying how much you like something?”

Dib groaned. “Of course you wouldn’t know. Of course I have to explain it. God, I hate this”, he mumbled, wishing desperately he could hide his hot face behind his hands. But no, now he had to explain his worst kink while in literal bondage and trapped in front of a live audience.

“It’s orgasm denial. Having sex and stuff, and then having your orgasm denied.”

He saw that Zim was about to open his mouth to ask more, but he quickly continued.

“And edging is about getting to the edge of orgasm. Before, well, getting it denied.”

A deep frown had settled on Zim’s face. “That sounds stupid. Why would someone like that?”

“Ugh, dude, there’s – a lot of people liking that, okay? It’s super frustrating, and like, degrading, and you stay very horny instead of getting satisfied, and yeah.”

A thoughtful expression replaced Zim’s appalled frown, and somehow, that was far worse. “And you like being denied or denying someone else?”

Dib blushed hard. Ah, fuck.

“Judging from your face it’s the first one, eh?” Zim grinned, and Dib wanted to slap him so, so bad.

“I, uh. Well, both, okay?” he tried to salvage this, but he could tell that Zim did not believe him.

“Can we, continue with the next question?” Dib then quickly said before things could escalate further. And Zim shrugged and hefted his eyes on the screen.

“Ah. Hm. Seems like they want to know if I like the thought of doing this denial thing to someone else.”

Dib’s heart missed a beat, and he felt his dick stir dangerously. He tried to take calming breaths, telling himself that Zim’s answer would not matter at all and was completely uninteresting. Fuck, he could feel how Zim was intently looking at him.

“Probably”, Zim then said. “I like control. And this thing sounds rather unpleasant, and I like the thought of causing discomfort in others. So yeah, it’s likely”, he explained, sounding thoughtful and like he was actually considering it.

Dib was still trying to look bored but a look at the chat and all the comments on his red face made him lose his composure. “Oh fuck off, followers. I know what you are thinking and no, you are just making a fool of yourselves with this.”

“Don’t insult my followers, Dib-worm”, Zim frowned, fixing Dib with a berating look.

“But they are mean to me”, Dib whined.

Zim snorted. “Maybe you deserve it”, he said and Dib pouted. “Especially considering your horrible performance in today’s clown puppy game.” He went on to take it from the desk, then sat on Dib’s lap again and tauntingly held it right in front of his face.  

“Come on, Dib, last minute”, Zim said, waving the puppy towards the digital clock before starting to hit it playfully against Dib’s mouth. “Last chance to show if you got an ace up your sleeve. To set your great plan into motion.”

Dib growled against the ceramic against his lips and tried to pull his head away, but Zim kept bothering him. Dib hated the feeling of him moving against his naked skin. “You seriously got nothing? I have to say, that is rather disappointing. I had been hoping for one last battle. No defiance at all, seriously?”

“Fuck you Zim”, Dib pressed out between clenched teeth. “Stop being so smug about this. I can’t move my hands, what am I supposed to do?”

Zim grinned, his face mere centimeters from Dib’s own. “Surprise me.”

Dib’s jaw tensed. Then he threw his upper body down, angling his head for Zims left hand and snapping with his teeth after the controller. His mouth did not even get near Zim’s hand who had pulled it back far in time.

“Naw, that was close”, Zim laughed, petting Dib’s head and jumping to his feet. “Better luck next time. For now, I think”, he grinned, pointing his finger to the timer that had arrived at zero. “It’s time to let your future overload mark what is rightfully his and carve his name into your inferior skin.”

Dib clenched his teeth. He should have never agreed to today’s losers’ punishment. His win in the first session had made him arrogant. Of course, he had made Zim promise that he would treat his wounds in a way that they wouldn’t leave scars, for fairness as Zim usually did not scar himself. But the idea of being tied up and having Zim claw his name into Dib’s torso was mortifying enough on his own.

“Can I … say no and lose some of my lesson?” Dib asked hopelessly.

Zim just snorted. “You made your decision when we agreed on the terms. Now let’s get you out of there and tie you up for good. This position is horrible.”

There was no relief flooding Dib’s system when the chair finally deactivated and his limbs were free again, as in the next second Zim was already moving him and pushing him against the wall.

“Hands up”, Zim ordered, and Dib rolled his eyes while he did as he said, trying his best not to let it get to him but failing miserably. Chains with grapple arms lowered themselves from the ceiling, because of course Zim had stuff like this in his base, and tightened around his wrists, pulling so that Dib’s whole frame was on tension and his heels left the floor. Goosebumps spread over his whole body.

Then, there was a similar noise on the floor, and in horror Dib watched as two more grapple arms emerged to snap shut around his ankles, pulling so that his legs were spread apart and he could barely stand on his toes. Dib blushed, and immediately started squirming.

“Come on, not the legs”, he said, his heart beating hard in his chest. Heat was quickly rushing south and he panicked at the realization that if he got hard, he would not be able do anything to hide it.

“So you can kick me when it gets too painful? I don’t think so”, Zim scoffed.

“Zim, I promise I won’t, please just leave my legs free.”

Zim looked up at him and watched the red in his face with amusement. It really was a good feeling to hear the Dib beg.

“Since when do your promises mean anything?” he replied, and Dib glowered at him. Zim just chuckled and then took out a knife out of his PAK. He thoughtfully played with the blade, watching how the light reflected off it, and then gently held it against Dib’s jaw.

“Not the face”, Dib frowned. “We agreed on the chest.”

“Keep still”, Zim just said, one hand coming to rest against Dib’s jaw. Dib tensed as Zim started moving the knife, using it to carefully remove a bit of the fine stubble showing on Dib’s face. He could feel Zim’s breath against his throat and his leg touching his left thigh. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he just quickly ram the knife into his stomach and be finished in a few harsh cuts?

But no, Zim was taking his time with this. Dib held his breath as he let the knife wander lower, made it dance over his throat and then slowly worked his way down. Thoughtfully, Zim slapped the knife against his chest a few times.  

“No, I think I would prefer doing this with my claws”, he then smiled, before throwing the knife over his shoulder. It hit and dug itself into the floor with dull thud. “More intimate.”

“But – but more likely to scar!” Dib tried to argue.

Zim rolled his eyes and removed his gloves. “I promised not to leave any, and I mean it. I have medicine for healing regulation and acceleration that your inferior race will not be able to synthesize for millennials to come.”   

“And it’s safe on humans??”

“I tested it”, Zim nodded, and then petted Dib’s head, letting his left hand gently wander through his hair. “Don’t be so scared, Dib-worm. You already know that you belong to Zim, seeing it carved into your skin will not make that much of a difference. And I promise I will be gentle.”

Before Dib had a chance to retort something, Zim already rammed one of his claws into his chest. Agonizingly slow, he dragged it to the right, careful to carve as deep as possible, while his eyes didn’t even once leave Dib’s. Dib tried to say something but only let a few pained noises slip, and then quickly clenched his teeth. He stared Zim down with all the hate and anger he could muster.

“Whoops, seems like I broke my promise”, Zim smiled, his eyes glinting with evil glee. “But you can’t believe that I would ever not make the most of such a beautiful opportunity to hurt you.”

“Bite me”, Dib fought out weakly between clenched teeth while Zim started the downward streak of his Z.

Zim halted and looked at him with mock-confusion. “That, too? Well, I don’t mind marking you up even more.”

“No, no!” Dib quickly shot back, turning red. “That was not part of the deal, don’t!”

Zim huffed out an amused laugh. “This is fun. I should tie you up more often.”

Dib looked away with an angry eyeroll, and with a grin, Zim reapplied the pressure and kept going. With such a short name, he of course had to make the letters as large as possible. The Z alone nearly covered Dib’s whole right side, stretching from his nipples down to his belly button. Merely looking at it made Dib’s face burn, especially when Zim stopped to admire his first letter and gently thumbed the rough edges and swiped away at the blood that was leaking out. Then he rammed his claw back into his skin.

It happened on the lowest part of the small i in Zim’s name. Zim made it go past Dib’s bellybutton, and then his sharp claw continued and cut slightly into the waistband of his underwear. The occasional stirring of his dick had already worried Dib enough, but now it suddenly rose so quickly into such a firm form that it was not deniable anymore.

His face burned as he kept staring at Zim’s eyes, desperately clinging to the hope that he might not let his eyes wander low enough to see it. But when Zim finished the i and looked at his work, his eyes did wander lower and stopped there. Mortified, Dib could do nothing but watch his face, watch as the confusion slowly turned into something like disgust. When Zim looked up into his face again, Dib immediately looked away. He wanted to say something, desperately, but anything he could think of would just make him look even more stupid. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest.

“You disgusting worm”, Zim finally said, and Dib felt like he wanted to cry. It didn’t make his dick soften, though, quite the opposite. “It shouldn’t surprise me, of course. I always knew that you liked to get hurt by me. I just didn’t realize how much.”

“Fuck, sorry, okay? Just – let me down now, Zim”, Dib said with a weak voice. He hated himself at that moment. Hated how disgusted he probably made Zim feel.

But then Zim stepped closer again. “Oh I wouldn’t dream of letting you off the hook this easily”, he said, lifting his finger to Dib’s stomach and gently swiping the blood away. Of course this made things worse. Goosebumps started covering Dib’s body. “I am going to mark you as mine. And that”, he said, looking intently at Dib’s boner. “Is not going to not stop me.”

With that, he rammed his claw back into Dib’s chest to start the M – and Dib had to fight off a moan. Why did that not disgust Zim enough to stop? Why did he instead seem like he was enjoying his predicament? Why did he have to go and continue making things worse for him? The sharp pain of Zim’s claw slowly ripping open his chest plus the occasional soft touch or tugging of his hair made Dib harden even more. His dick was straining against his boxershorts and he doubted that he had ever been this horny without any touch before.

The small little moans that occasionally slipped from Dib’s lips despite his obvious desperate attempts to hold them in were doing something to Zim. He found himself aching to dig in deeper, to hurt Dib more and more just in hopes of seeing his nemesis lose his even his last resolve. He knew this was going too far. He knew that as a proper irken he should be completely disgusted by Dib. But no, instead his tentacle was urgently pushing against his opened slit as he was turned on by this dirty human submitting to him more than he had ever been turned on by anything else in his life.

Instead of stopping, his grip tightened in Dib’s hair as he drew the last millimeters of his name, his hand then firmly grapping Dib’s hip while he leaned forward to whisper tauntingly against his ear.

“You want me to step away and show the followers how you look right now?”

He reveled in the sight of Dib squirming in his binds and frantically shaking his head. “Please, Zim, don’t”, he begged. It made Zim smile.

Sensing a chance, Dib continued. The thought of the internet seeing proof of how much Zim had managed to turn him on terrified him. “Please, I mean it. I beg you, okay? Please don’t let them see … that.”

Zim hummed thoughtfully, but then decided that he should probably reward Dib for begging so nicely if he ever wanted to hear him do it again.

“Computer, frame the camera above his boxershorts”, he mumbled, before stepping away to admire Dib’s body. He was glad that at least he could see him fully. The pathetic erection straining against his underwear looked great together with the bloody red ZiM on Dib’s chest. It really highlighted how much the Dib seemed to enjoy being marked as Zim’s property.

“Isn’t he a sight to behold, followers? Your blood really has a great color, Dib. I think I am going to print a picture of you like this and hang it on my wall, just as a constant reminder of my ownership over you. Does that sound good?”

“Can you hurry and fix me up already?” Dib growled back, and Zim grinned.

“Still so feisty. I think I need to train him better, what do you think, followers?”

He read through a few messages and grinned at how much fun they were all making of Dib. It probably would not have made a great difference if he had shown them the lower part of Dib’s body because most of them suspected he had a boner anyway.

“Uh, user triza14 suggests I should keep you in a collar. What do you think?”

“I’d rather die.”

Zim chuckled. “We’ll see. For today, I agree that you have done good enough.”

He got some healing gel and bandages and started patching Dib up – careful to cover every little cut and applying the bandages in precise and stable rows. To his surprise, by the end of it, Dib’s boner still had not died down. Maybe because he was still tied up by the robot arms? Or was it possible that not only the pain, but Zim’s touches in general turned him on?

He was curious to find out next time.

If there was a next time. The way Dib quickly picked up his clothes before near running out of the room after Zim had let him out of the binds made Zim worry a little.