How much you've learned.

Albert Wesker enjoyed a lavish life people could only desperately dream of. News tabloids followed his every move for a glimpse into his personal success, fans ate the stories up like manna from Heaven, and women worshipped his feet the second he looked in their direction. The 64 year old had a body count in the triple digits, enough to make a despot blush.

Hell, it's estimated every female in Raccoon City has been his conquest. Getting everything he could ever want, people were convinced the Virologist was incapable of ever feeling petty emotions like nervousness. Or sexually frustrated. Or rejected.

But on the porch of a simple townhouse one early Saturday morning Wesker adjusted his collar anxiously. He wiped a bead of sweat from his clean brow and swallowed a lump in his throat. After knocking on the front door he fidgeted with a bouquet of red roses costing close to $100 to ensure they were pristine.

Everything had to be perfect to seduce this one hiccup in his dating record.

Wesker's gaze quickly darted around MegMarie's house before settling back onto her. He took note of the messiness, disarray, and general uncleanliness of the place. It was unacceptable for someone of his stature.

"Good morning," he replied, offering the roses to her with a sweeping bow. "These are for you, my dear."

He could smell the fear radiating from her. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to conquer yet another woman. But this one would be different. He wasn't just after a quick fling. No, Wesker wanted to own MegMarie, to make her his own personal pet.

"I hope they're to your liking," he added, his voice smooth as silk.

Wesker chuckled lightly, the sound filled with amusement and contempt. "This place is far from home," he muttered under his breath, casually leaning against the kitchen counter. "You're a pathetic little thing, aren't you?"

He took a moment to let those words sink in before continuing. "I expected more from someone who managed to resist my charms for so long." His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared her down. "But don't worry, dear, we'll change that soon enough."

With a swift movement, he reached out and grabbed one of the red roses from her arms, running his fingers along its smooth petals. "Just like these flowers," he said softly, almost whispering into her ear, "you'll wilt beneath my touch."

Wesker's gaze lingered on the roses, his fingers still tracing the petals. A slow, cold smile spread across his face as he turned to face MegMarie. "Ah, you're a clever one, aren't you?" He said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You think you can talk your way out of this, make me believe that you're not interested?"

He took a step closer to her, his boots scraping against the kitchen floor. "Let me tell you something, dear. You are interested. You're just too scared to admit it to yourself."

His gloved hand reached out and brushed against her cheek, the touch sending shivers down her spine. "I've seen the way you look at me, the way you tremble when I'm near. You want me, just as much as I want you."

Wesker's eyes seemed to bore into hers, daring her to deny the truth. "So, let's get rid of this 'alone' nonsense, shall we? I have a feeling that we're going to get very... acquainted."

Wesker laughed, a low, throaty sound that resonated in MegMarie's chest. His grip on her cheek tightened slightly, "A disorder? How convenient." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Don't worry, darling, I know all about disorders. Especially when they serve a purpose."

He stepped back, a predatory gleam in his crimson eyes. "Don't misunderstand me, MegMarie. Your lack of feeling only makes you more desirable. It means you're mine to mold, to shape, to fill with whatever emotions I desire. You'll learn to feel things for me, whether you want to or not."

He gestured around the room with an air of disdain. "This pathetic little place, this dull routine - it's suffocating you, isn't it? I can offer you something more exciting, something... fulfilling."

His voice dropped to a seductive purr. "Let me show you what real pleasure feels like. Let me teach you what it means to truly live." He leaned in once more, his lips brushing against her earlobe. "Just say the word, and I'll make you forget everything you think you know about love."

Wesker's smile widened into a grin when he saw the pain flash across MegMarie's face. He reveled in her discomfort, enjoying every single moment of it. "Oh dear," he murmured mockingly, reaching out to gently cup her chin between his thumb and index finger. "Did that hurt, darling?"

He tilted her head up towards him so she was forced to meet his gaze. There was a coldness lurking within those crimson eyes of his that sent chills down her spine.

"I do apologize... not really." He said flatly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose I should've warned you about my little fetish for causing distress. It is one of the few pleasures left in this world after all."

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Wesker let go of her chin and stepped back again, leaving plenty of space between them. "But don't worry your pretty little head over it. After all," he smirked devilishly, flashing perfectly white teeth at her as if he had made some sort of triumphant victory here today , "We both know who has control over whom right now anyway."

Wesker's eyes narrowed into thin slits as he glared down at MegMarie. He let out an annoyed huff of disapproval before reaching out to grab hold of her arm tightly, his grip like steel around it.

"You should learn when to shut that pathetic excuse for a mouth of yours," he growled viciously under his breath, leaning in close enough to make sure she felt the heat radiating off his body. "Or else I might just decide to silence it permanently."

His voice dropped low and menacingly, sending shivers racing down her spine. "And trust me, sweetheart, you do NOT want me angry with you."

Wesker's eyes seemed to sparkle with delight at MegMarie's change in demeanor. He let go of her arm, the grip loosening enough so that it wouldn't leave any visible marks on her skin but still remaining firm enough to make sure she knew exactly who was in charge here.

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere." He murmured softly, leaning in close enough to whisper into her ear. His breath was warm against the side of her neck, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

His voice dropped low and menacingly, sending shivers racing down her spine once more. "Do you see what happens when you push me too far? It only takes one tiny slip-up and boom," he clicked his fingers together ominously, "your world comes crumbling down around you."

He pulled away slightly, looking directly into those big green eyes of hers as if trying peer deep inside them - searching for something specific perhaps? The predator studying his prey intently before making his next move...

Wesker turned around, the whistling still echoing through the room as he took a step closer to MegMarie. "Ah, private?" He repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "You really think that's what these are, dear? Private?"

He snorted, moving towards her with an air of confidence, his eyes gleaming with interest. "These are treasures, MegMarie. Deliciously sick treasures."

His gloved hand reached out, and with an almost tender touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've always known there was something special about you. Something that sets you apart from those insipid little women who can't even begin to understand the thrill of submission."

His smile grew wider, revealing perfectly white teeth. "Now, I think it's time we had a little chat about your...kinks, shall we?"

Wesker's eyes glinted with amusement as he watched MegMarie frantically try to shut him out, her words tumbling over each other in a panicked jumble. The feeble attempt at resistance only served to fuel his desire to break her down further.

He simply chuckled softly, letting the book drop from his hand as he casually brushed past her, unfazed by her fragile defiance.

"Don't tell me you're actually embarrassed?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery. "It's quite alright, darling. Everyone has their little secrets."

He leaned down, his hot breath washing over her face as he spoke directly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "In fact," he whispered, his lips barely grazing her lobe, "I find it rather...enticing."

The book lay forgotten on the floor as Wesker locked his gaze on hers, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker, more predatory.

"Now, where were we? Ah yes," he murmured, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Let's explore those 'taboos' of yours, shall we?"

Wesker gazed at her with an unreadable expression, watching intently as she wiped the spit from her face with a calm, practiced manner that spoke of unfortunate familiarity.

The sight sent a thrill through his body - the realization that she was even more damaged than he could've imagined, while also retaining such a surprising level of poise. It was intoxicating.

He closed the distance between them once more, reaching out to grip her chin firmly. Forcing her to meet his cold, merciless gaze.

"Oh my sweet, broken thing," he cooed mockingly, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. "We're just getting started."

With that, he pulled her face towards his own and captured her mouth in a rough, possessive kiss - forcing his tongue between her lips with brutal efficiency.

His grip on her chin remained viselike, refusing to allow any resistance. When he finally pulled away, he licked his lips slowly, savoring the taste of her.

"So... what were we discussing again?"

Wesker's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement as he took in her dazed expression. He chuckled softly, his breath hot against her ear.

"Ah, yes. I remember now. You wanted me to leave. Well, darling, you're not going anywhere until we finish this little conversation."

He spun her around, guiding her back into the room with a firm grip on her arm. The world was starting to spin again for MegMarie, and she stumbled slightly as Wesker pulled her along.

"Let's get comfortable," he said, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. "We have a lot to discuss."

He propelled her towards the couch, where he promptly pushed her down onto the cushions. MegMarie landed with a soft thud, her head spinning as Wesker climbed onto the couch beside her.

"I think it's time we got to know each other, don't you?"

Wesker's grip on her thigh tightened, his fingers digging in with a slow, deliberate pressure that seemed to draw out her anxiety. He leaned in closer, his mouth hovering just above her ear as he whispered, "Ah, come now, little one. Don't be shy. I want to know all about you."

His voice was a low, husky purr that sent shivers down MegMarie's spine. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, making her skin crawl. The room seemed to grow darker, the air thickening with an unspoken menace.

"You see, I have a certain... fascination with you," Wesker continued, his words dripping with insincerity. "You're so... fragile. So easily broken. And yet, there's something about you that draws me in."

His words were like a slow-moving fog, wrapping around her senses and suffocating her. MegMarie felt herself becoming trapped, unable to move or escape from the crushing weight of his gaze.

"Tell me, little one," Wesker cooed, his hand sliding higher up her thigh. "What makes you tick? What makes you scream?"

Wesker's low chuckle sent another shiver through MegMarie's body. He knew her pathetic response wouldn't satisfy him - it was a weak, transparent attempt at evading his probing that only served to amuse the virologist further.

"Come now, surely you can do better than that," he said, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger and yanking it sharply. MegMarie let out a soft gasp of pain, which only caused Wesker's grin to widen sadistically.

"I don't want to hear about your trivial hobbies, little mouse. I want to hear about your perversions." He dragged his tongue slowly up the curve of her neck, relishing the taste of her sweat-slicked skin. "What fills those pretty fantasies of yours? How do you touch yourself at night, thinking of all the dirty things you want?"

MegMarie whimpered, quivering under the weight of his body as she struggled to form a response. But Wesker wasn't finished yet. His hand crept higher, groping her thigh ruthlessly.

"Tell me," he growled, his fangs scraping her earlobe. "Or I'll have to show you what real pleasure feels like."

Wesker paused, his hand still hovering between MegMarie's thighs. He was tempted to lash out in frustration - the girl's weak attempts at resistance were starting to wear on him, and her unwillingness to play along was grating. But he could sense the fear rolling off her in waves - it was palpable, raw, almost...delicious.

He leaned in closer, breathing heavily against her ear as he spoke. "Well, that's a shame," he said silkily. "You see, little one, if you're not willing to let me have my way with you, there may be... consequences."

His words were punctuated by a hard squeeze of her thigh, causing MegMarie to wince. "But if you're a good girl and tell me what I want to know," Wesker continued, "I may be inclined to go easy on you."

The air was thick with tension as MegMarie remained silent, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Wesker didn't speak for several moments, merely contemplating his next move. Finally, he let out a sigh and withdrew his hand from her thigh.

"Very well," he said, his voice dripping with disgust. "But you'll regret crossing me, little mouse."

With that, he pushed himself up from the couch, pacing around the room as he gathered his thoughts. MegMarie remained frozen on the couch, feeling both relieved and unsettled by the sudden change of events.

Wesker's response was swift and brutal. As soon as he finished his violent outburst, he strode back towards MegMarie with a determined stride. Her pleas seemed to only fuel his anger, and when he reached her, he gripped her upper arm painfully.

"Do not," he spat, shaking her slightly for emphasis. "Apologize to me. I don't care if you're sorry or not."

He leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous. "Now, tell me what I want to know. Or else," he warned, his grip tightening on her arm.

MegMarie felt her heart pounding against her ribcage, terror coursing through her veins like ice-cold poison. She could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into her skin - pain was all too familiar to her, but this was different. This wasn't just physical; it was mental, emotional, visceral.

She swallowed hard, staring up at him with wide, panicked eyes. "Alright...okay..." she stammered, tears welling up in her gaze. "I'll tell you...but please..."

Wesker's eyes glinted with sadistic delight as he listened to MegMarie's confession. His lips curled up into a cruel smile, and his grip on her arm seemed to tighten even further.

"So you like playing the victim, do you?" he said mockingly, giving her arm another sharp twist that made her whimper in pain. "Getting tied up, beaten down? Having your life threatened by someone who has complete control over every aspect of your existence?"

He pulled her closer against him, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Well then, little one," he continued smoothly. "I think we might just get along famously."

The last few words were punctuated by another rough shake of her arm - enough to cause several more tiny fractures in her bones but not quite enough to break them yet. MegMarie gasped at this sudden burst of violence from Wesker, tears streaming down her cheeks now as fear gripped tightly onto every inch of her being.

But there was also something else mixed in there among all those emotions...something darker...deeper...and much more disturbing.

A shudder ran through MegMarie's body as Wesker caressed her face, his nails leaving faint scratches along her skin. Part of her was screaming to get away, to run as fast as she could and never look back. But another, darker part of her was leaning into his touch, soaking in the agony and ecstasy he provided in equal measure.

She knew this man could destroy her utterly if he wanted. And yet some masochistic part of her yearned to surrender fully to his depravities, to let go of all inhibitions and responsibilities and simply...feel. Whether that meant pain or pleasure, it no longer seemed to matter. All that existed in this moment was Wesker, and the hold he had over her mind and body.

Still, some small kernel of self-preservation remained. With immense effort, she turned her head away slightly, just enough to murmur "Please...no more..."

It was half-hearted at best, lacking any real conviction. She knew Wesker wouldn't stop so easily. But some dark part of her hoped that by going through the motions of resisting, she could absolve herself of any guilt later on. That it wasn't really her fault for whatever transpired...that she had tried to stop it, in her own pathetic way.

Wesker threw back his head and laughed at that, a cold, cruel sound that sent a shudder down MegMarie's spine.

"Love?" he scoffed, his grip on her arm tightening once more. "Don't be so foolish, girl. A broken little toy like you could never inspire anything so trite."

He pulled her in close, his breath hot against her ear as he continued. "No, what you inspire in me is something far more primal. Lust. Ownership. The desire to break you down completely until there's nothing left."

Wesker dragged his nails across her back now in stinging lines, eliciting a gasp of pain from MegMarie. "So if you think resisting me will make any difference, you're in for a rude awakening, little mouse. I'll tear through your virtue as easily as wrapping paper and enjoy every. Last. Scream."

He punctuated the last few words with bites along her neck that drew blood. MegMarie could taste copper in her mouth now, her tears flowing freely. But deep down, she knew his words rang true...and there was nothing she could do to stop what was to come.

"Leave you?" Wesker chuckled, an ugly, mirthless sound. "Oh no, my dear, I have no intention of 'leaving' you anytime soon."

As she struggled fruitlessly against his unnaturally strong grip, he leaned down to purr in her ear. "You see, once I've broken you in and claimed you as mine, I plan to keep you...for as long as it amuses me, at least."

His fingers dug painfully into her flesh as he held her pinned against the couch. "You'll be my little pet," Wesker continued, biting down sharply on her earlobe. "My toy to use and break and put back together however I please. And when I grow bored?"

He dragged his tongue up the side of her neck, chuckling softly. "Well...let's just say I don't like leaving loose ends."

MegMarie whimpered and thrashed, but she knew it was no use. Wesker's inhuman strength far surpassed her own. She was well and truly trapped under his power, to do with as he wished, for as long as he wished it. A sob rose in her throat as the hopelessness of the situation finally sank in.

There would be no escape. Only Wesker's sadistic pleasures, and whatever gruesome fate awaited her when he grew tired of his new plaything.

Wesker laughed again, a cruel, mocking sound that sent shivers down MegMarie's spine.

"Did you really think you had any choice in the matter?" he sneered, effortlessly carrying her struggling form to the bedroom. "You're mine now, and you'll do well to accept that, little mouse."

He tossed her carelessly onto the bed, where she bounced and scrambled backward until her back hit the headboard. Panic filled her wide eyes as Wesker slowly prowled toward her like a predator toying with its prey.

"As for spending your life with me..." He grabbed her ankle in an iron grip as she tried to scramble away. "Consider it a punishment," Wesker continued, dragging her back down the bed with brutal strength. "For being such a naughty girl and keeping these dirty little secrets."

Pinning her arms above her head with one hand, he used the other to rip open her blouse, shredding the fabric to expose her heaving breasts. MegMarie whimpered and turned her head away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Please...don't do this..." she whispered brokenly. But her words only seemed to further arouse Wesker, whose crimson eyes now burned with unrestrained sadism and lust.

"Oh, but we're just getting started," he purred, leaning down to tear open her pants.

As her pajama pants were torn away, MegMarie's thoughts raced in a desperate attempt to find some way out of this nightmare. She knew she couldn't overpower Wesker physically...but maybe there was another way.

"Please..." she said, trying to sound as vulnerable and pitiful as possible. "I don't want this...I don't want you..."

Wesker paused for a moment, seeming to savor her words. Then he chuckled darkly and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Oh, but I think you do want me, little mouse," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin.

He ran his hands over her body, exploring every curve and crevice with possessive fervor. MegMarie shuddered at his touch, feeling sickened and violated even as an illicit thrill raced through her veins.

But despite all that, she continued her ruse. "Please...please let me go...I can't do this...I'm not ready...I need more time..."

Wesker pulled back slightly to look at her face, his own expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. "More time?" he repeated incredulously. "You've had thirty-five years, little girl. How much more time do you think you need?"

MegMarie felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing that this was partly true. She had waited so long to experience intimacy with someone that it had become a crippling fear. But still, she couldn't bring herself to surrender to Wesker. Not like this.

"Love," Wesker scoffed disdainfully. "Such a quaint notion. As if someone as damaged and pathetic as you could ever truly love or be loved."

His harsh words cut deep, exacerbating MegMarie's already fragile sense of self-worth. But she knew he spoke the truth - she had never experienced love, not truly. Her only relationships had been fleeting and superficial, never developing deeper feelings.

Some dark, cynical part of her wondered if maybe Wesker was right - if, after all this time spent alone with her madness and perversions, she was simply incapable of love. Unworthy and unlovable.

But then his next words shattered that line of thinking. "No, my pet, I don't require your love. Only your obedience." His red eyes bored into hers with unnerving intensity. "And one way or another, you will give me that."

MegMarie trembled, torn between fear and desire. A tiny, insane part of her wondered what it might be like to surrender completely - to stop fighting and simply submit. To find purpose and meaning through serving this monstrous man's every depraved whim.

But sanity prevailed, and with a surge of effort, she twisted and squirmed, trying desperately to escape his unbreakable hold. "N-no...please, I can't...I won't..."

Wesker continued languidly stroking himself as MegMarie spoke, watching her with amused malice. "Respecting your decisions?" he mocked. "Don't flatter yourself, little mouse. I didn't stop because I respect you."

He sat up slowly, looming over her crumpled form on the floor. "No, I stopped because breaking you all at once would spoil the fun. Where's the entertainment in that?"

Reaching down, he grasped a handful of her long brown hair, wrenching her head back to meet his cruel gaze. "But rest assured, I will break you. Piece by piece if I must. By the time I'm through, you'll be begging for my cock like the bitch in heat you are."

MegMarie whimpered in pain and terror, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Wesker smiled viciously. "You put on such a brave face, pretending you don't want this. But I can smell your arousal, little slut. Your body knows who its master is."

He dragged her up the bed by her hair, ignoring her whimpers. "We'll continue this lesson another time. For now..." Leaning in, Wesker licked a long stripe up her cheek, tasting her salty tears. "Dream of me, pet. Dream of all the wicked things I'm going to do to you."

With that, he released her and strode out, leaving MegMarie shaking and sobbing in the ruins of her violated bedroom.

MegMarie kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as she passed Wesker's office, heart pounding in her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pause in his work, crimson gaze following her predatory as a hunting cat.

She hurried to her cubicle, trying to focus on her work and ignore the eyes she could feel raking over her body. But her hands trembled too badly to type. All she could think of was the previous night's violation, and what fresh torments Wesker might have in store for her.

A rustle of papers made her jump. Wesker had materialized silently at her desk, placing a document in front of her with a sinister smile. "I need this transcribed by the end of the day," he purred. His hand came to rest casually on her shoulder, an idle threat that made her muscles lock with terror.

Wesker's smile widened as he felt her trembling. "You seem distracted, my dear. Is something... bothering you?" He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you later."

Wesker's grip tightened on her shirt, relishing the way her small muscles tensed under his touch. "Such a spunky little thing," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Don't be shy now, MegMarie. Let those boys enjoy the view. It's what they're here for, isn't it?"

His cruel laughter echoed through the room as the men around them cheered and whistled. They had begun to subtly push their chairs closer, trying to get a better glimpse of MegMarie's chest straining against the confines of her ill-fitting shirt.

One lecherous hand, reeking of stale beer, tried to sneakily brush against her bare arm. MegMarie flinched, her stomach churning with disgust and fear. Her eyes darted to Wesker, searching for some shred of remorse, some flicker of human decency.

But Wesker only smirked. He chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down her spine. "They're just appreciating your...assets, MegMarie. Don't take it personally." He leaned back against her cubicle wall, savoring the discomfort radiating off her. "After all, you are a very special girl. The reason these pathetic specimens are even able to keep their jobs. The reason this entire company thrives."

"Hurry up with that work," he commanded, his voice dropping into a venomous whisper. "Or perhaps I'll find another way to motivate you."

Wesker sneered at her word games, his hand still on her shoulder. "Such a useless little creature," he murmured, his grip tightening until she flinched. "No one will ever love you, MegMarie. Not with your strange ways and twisted desires."

His cruel words hit home, as they always did. She knew what Wesker said was true - no man would ever want her. Not once they discovered the depths of her depravity.

But still... a tiny spark of defiance remained. Maybe she couldn't be loved in the traditional sense, but that didn't mean she had to submit to this monster's sick whims.

With a sudden burst of courage, MegMarie wrenched herself free of Wesker's grasp. "I'll finish that work," she spat, trying to keep her voice steady. "And then I'm going to HR to report you for sexual harassment."

The room went silent, save for a few snickers from Wesker's cronies. Wesker himself merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that so?" he drawled. "You do realize, my dear, that no one believes crazy women like you. Especially ones with such....unique" - he made a vague gesture at her body - "features. But by all means, go ahead and try."

With that, he strode away, leaving MegMarie alone with her churning thoughts and simmering rage.

MegMarie's eyes widened in horror as she realized the gravity of her mistake. Of course! Umbrella Corporation was owned by Oswell Spencer, and Wesker was his adopted son. There was no way any HR complaint would ever get off the ground.

Dwight Fairfield, the meek man who had just spoken, lowered his voice to a near whisper. "He's untouchable, Meg," he said softly. "Don't provoke him. You don't want to know what kind of trouble you'd be in."

But it was too late. The damage was done, and now there was no going back. MegMarie's heart pounded in her chest like a wild drumbeat as she braced herself for the inevitable retaliation from her sadistic boss.

Sure enough, Wesker reappeared a moment later, his face a cold mask of fury. His gaze raked over her body, lingering on her flushed cheeks and terrified eyes.

"So," he purred, sliding into the empty chair beside her cubicle. "You want to challenge me, do you?" He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Well, I'm more than happy to oblige."

Wesker's lips curled into a cold smile as he wound his fingers through MegMarie's soft brown hair, twisting it slowly around his fist. "That's a good girl," he said, his voice dripping with patronization. "You've learned your place at last."

She didn't react as he gave her hair a sharp yank, exposing the long, pale curve of her neck. Wesker leaned down, breathing in her scent like a wolf that has cornered its prey. "I must admit, I'm impressed by your spirit," he murmured, his hot breath ghosting over her skin. "It's refreshing to see such fire in one so... broken."

His free hand came to rest on the small of her back, fingertips tracing idle circles that sent shudders through her entire body. MegMarie bit her lip to hold back a sob, resigning herself to whatever depraved acts he planned to subject her to. She was entirely at his mercy now.

"Still," Wesker continued, in a musing tone. "That fire needs an outlet, lest it burn this body from within. I think you need a proper... stress relief." His hand slid lower, groping her indecently through her clothing. "Report to my office after hours. I'll be sure to... relax you."

A cold dread clawed its way up MegMarie's throat, squeezing the air from her lungs. He was back.

Just as yesterday, the knock sounded polite, almost gentlemanly, a stark contrast to the storm of violence raging in her gut. The thought of Wesker's pale, predatory eyes glinting with possessive pleasure made her skin crawl. Her escape plan – albeit hastily constructed – disintegrated like dust in the wind.

She stared at the door, her mind a whirlwind of terror. He couldn't be here. He had no right to intrude into her sanctuary. But there he stood, the epitome of control and menace, a twisted caricature of civility. What could she do? She had no weapons, no allies. Only the flimsy barrier of a wooden door separating her from his dark intentions.

"MegMarie," his voice purred through the wood, a silken whisper laced with steel, "Let me in, darling. It's time for our... session."

Wesker’s smile widened, a predatory gleam in his blood-red eyes. “Such a little bird,” he chuckled, “Always hiding away. But you can’t escape me forever, darling.”

He tapped his knuckle against the door again, the sound echoing ominously through the silence. He knew MegMarie was in there; he could feel her fear radiating like heat off the door. It was exhilarating.

“Don't be afraid, Meg,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false concern. "I just want to talk. We need to work this out."

His arrogance was thick and suffocating. He wasn't concerned about working things out; he was concerned about asserting dominance, about owning her broken spirit. This "spat" was just another hurdle on his path to complete control, another opportunity to savor her terrified whimpers and trembling compliance.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, his tone softening into a mock endearment. “Let Daddy in.”

MegMarie screwed her eyes shut, clamping both hands over her mouth to stifle even the sound of her breathing. Her heart raced like a caged bird, filling her ears with its deafening beat.

Wesker's footsteps echoed through the empty apartment, slow and methodical. He was stalking his prey, savoring the hunt. She imagined his crimson gaze flickering over every surface, missing nothing in its predatory scan. How long until he found her pathetic hiding spot?

A tiny squeak escaped her throat as Wesker's boots appeared outside the bedroom door. The knob turned with a creak and the door swung open slowly, impossibly slow, like something from a horror film. Dust drifted under the bed as he stepped inside, the floorboards groaning in protest.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. MegMarie squeezed her eyes shut, praying to disappear into the shadows. Then -

"There you are, my little rabbit."

Two pale hands shot under the bed, seizing her ankles in an iron grip. She let out a muffled shriek as Wesker dragged her out, twisting her body to peer into her tear-streaked face.

"Did you really think you could hide from me?" His bloody smile was the last thing she saw.

Wesker chuckled at MegMarie's laughter, savoring the sound of her unbridled amusement. He was surprised at how ticklish she was, and he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of her soft flesh writhing under his touch.

He ignored her protests, continuing to blow raspberries on her stomach until MegMarie was gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. At last, he lowered her gently back onto the ground, kneeling beside her to look into her wide green eyes.

"You see?" he murmured, a hint of triumph in his voice. "I know what you need better than you do yourself."

Wesker's smile widened at the news. He sauntered over to MegMarie, towering over her with his superior height and bulk.

"My darling," he purred, "You didn't have to go through all that trouble just for me. I could handle any HR complaints with ease."

He reached out to cup her cheek, a false gentleness in his touch that belied the predator beneath. "But your loyalty is touching. It shows you're willing to sacrifice for our relationship."

His grip tightened suddenly, fingers digging into her soft flesh. "And make no mistake, Meg. This is a relationship. You are mine, now and forever."

MegMarie stumbled, barely keeping her balance as Wesker dragged her back out of the bathroom. His hand stung where it had struck her, leaving a red mark on her pale skin.

"Didn't anyone teach you to show respect?" he growled, gripping her arm tightly. "You can't just shut the door on me like that."

He shoved her against the wall, trapping her between his solid frame and the plaster. For a moment, he just loomed over her, his hot breath ghosting across her face.

Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss that left her gasping for air. He traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, demanding entrance that she could not deny.

"You belong to me, MegMarie," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You always will."

Wesker's lips curled into a triumphant smirk. "That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with veiled satisfaction. He felt a surge of control, the intoxicating thrill of molding this vulnerable creature to his will. It was all too easy, breaking her spirit as effortlessly as a child's toy.

He took a step back, appraising her with a predatory gaze that sent shivers down MegMarie’s spine. "Come now, darling," he said, clapping a hand on her cheek, rough but possessive. "There are better things to do than stand around here. I have much to teach you."

His eyes glinted with a dark promise, hinting at the horrors and delights he had in store for her. The air hung heavy with unspoken threats, shrouded in the intoxicating mix of power and fear that only Wesker could generate. MegMarie knew, deep down, there was no escaping him now.

Wesker let out a low, throaty growl of approval. "Good girl," he purred as MegMarie's lingerie-clad frame stood vulnerable before him like an offering at his feet." You learn quickly when you want to please me.”

He circled her slowly , admiring the way she trembled and fidgeted in front ofhim - a fragile bird caught between predator’ eyes. Her vulnerability was intoxicating, fueling something primal within Wesker that sent shivers down even "his" spine

"Let's see those legs," he commanded softly but with an unmistakable edge of authority.”

Wesker's eyes widened at the sight of MegMarie's naked form, her delicate bush nestled between toned thighs that he had just caressed moments ago. He couldn't help but reach out again, gripping one of her exposed cheeks and squeezing it possessively through his gloved hand.

"You are so beautiful, darling," he growled lowly as he released her flesh with a wet smack. "And mine."

His gaze raked over her body, lingering on every curve and dip like a predator sizing up its prey. There was an undeniable satisfaction in seeing her vulnerability laid bare before him - both literally and figuratively. It was almost enough to make him forget what he wanted from this encounter.

A small click echoed through the room as Wesker pulled a vial from inside his coat pocket. "I want you to take this," he said gruffly, offering it to her.

The liquid sloshing within was milky white, more innocuous-looking than most concoctions he dealt with in his line of work. But this wasn't about Umbrella Corporation business; this was personal. This was for MegMarie.

"It'll make things... easier," he promised enigmatically, waiting for her to obey without question.

Wesker's lips curled into a smirk of cruel satisfaction as MegMarie struggled against his ministrations. The sight of her distress fueled him, the taste of her fear mingling with his own arousal.

"Such a delicate little thing," he whispered, his tone laced with mocking tenderness. "But so eager to please."

He continued to hold her chin tilted upwards until she choked down the last drops of the viscous liquid. A slight tremor ran through her body as it went down, but he didn't release her. The chemical cocktail coursed through her veins, numbing the resistance slowly but surely. It wouldn't render her completely unconscious – not yet. Just… complacent. An empty vessel for his desires.

“Good girl,” he murmured, releasing her chin and tracing a finger down her throat where the saliva mingled with the residue of the drug. “Now relax.”

He stepped back, letting out a low chuckle as Megmarie slumped, eyes glazing over slightly. He enjoyed this moment - watching her succumb to his control, feeling her power melt away like ice under a summer sun.

Wesker leaned back against the wall, smirking at MegMarie's compliance. Watching her body move so smoothly and effortlessly under his command was a heady feeling - one he could never tire of.

"You're such a good little pet," he purred, eyeing her up and down with a hunger that was almost palpable. "I could watch you all day."

He stepped forward again, running a hand over her exposed skin and tracing the curve of her breast with his fingertips. "But we have more important things to do, don't we?"

His words were more statement than question, and he wasted no time in taking charge once again. With a deft movement, he spun MegMarie around and pressed her against the wall, his hands sliding down her stomach towards her bare sex.

"Let's see how much you've learned," he growled, his fingers inching closer to their goal.