Captured by enemies

The day had started out so normal for Ruby. She did her classes in Beacon, laughed with her friends and Ruby got new upgrades for Crescent Rose. Things were great... bout now she was in this position. Captured by Roman and Neo while in an abandoned warehouse with no one coming to her aid.

Her breath hitched as the cold metal of Torchwick’s cane pressed against her throat, forcing her chin up. Neo stood just behind him, twirling her parasol with a smirk, the glass blade glinting under the dim warehouse lights. Ruby’s fingers twitched toward Crescent Rose, but a sharp flick of Neo’s wrist sent the scythe skidding across the concrete, far out of reach.

"Now, now, Red," Torchwick drawled, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "No need for dramatics. We just want to have a little… chat." His free hand tugged at the edge of her cloak, the fabric slipping from her shoulders with a whisper.

"What do you want?!" Ruby demanded as she went to grab her cloak, only for Neo to flick it away like she did with Cresent Rose. "Why Neo and I only want 1 thing; for you to apologise." Ruby’s pulse hammered in her ears as the cloak pooled at her feet. The cold warehouse air prickled against her bare shoulders, and she swallowed hard against the pressure of Torchwick’s cane.

"Apologize?" Her voice wavered, fingers curling into fists at her sides. "For what? Stopping you from robbing people? From hurting them?"

Torchwick’s grin widened, slow and deliberate, as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "For being a nuisance, little Red." His cane trailed down, tracing the line of her collarbone before tapping once, pointedly, against the clasp of her corset. The clasp gave way with a quiet click, and Ruby’s breath stuttered as the corset loosened around her ribs. Torchwick’s smirk deepened, his voice a low, taunting purr.

"Now, now, Red. Let’s not be stubborn. You’ve got two choices here—either we do this nice and easy, or..." His gaze flicked toward Neo, whose lips curled into a feral grin, her mismatched eyes gleaming with barely restrained ****. The tip of her parasol tapped against the floor, the sound sharp as a blade unsheathing.

"...Or I let Neo finish what she’s been dying to do." Ruby’s fingers trembled as they brushed against the loosened corset, her knuckles white with tension. The cold air bit at her exposed skin as she hesitated, Torchwick’s cane still hovering like a threat. Neo’s silent chuckle sent a shiver down her spine—she knew there was no running, no clever escape this time. Its either do as she’s told or die, the latter she'd rather do but knew her sister and friends would mourn for her if she did.

With a slow, defeated exhale, Ruby tugged at the laces, letting the corset slip from her frame. The fabric whispered against her arms as it fell, leaving her in only her thin undershirt. Torchwick’s grin was predatory as his gaze raked over her, the cane now tracing idle circles against her ribs.

The corset hit the ground with a soft thud, and Ruby’s skin prickled under the weight of Torchwick’s gaze. His cane lingered just beneath her ribs, the cold metal pressing into her flesh as he tilted his head, studying her like a predator savoring its prey.

What does he even want? Ruby’s mind raced, her breath shallow. Was this just humiliation? A game? Or something worse?

Neo took a silent step forward, her parasol twirling once before its tip hooked under the hem of Ruby’s undershirt. A single, deliberate tug made the fabric ride up, exposing a sliver of her stomach.

Roman soon joined the fun as he pessed his cane hard into Ruby's spine from behind, forcing Ruby’s back to arch as Neo’s parasol tugged upward with cruel precision. The undershirt slid higher, exposing the delicate curve of Ruby’s waist, the fabric catching beneath her arms. Her fingers trembled against the hem—whether to push it down or tear it away, she wasn’t sure—but Torchwick’s chuckle decided for her.

"Don’t stop now, Red," he murmured, the cane’s tip tracing lower, skimming the waistband of her skirt. With a sharp flick, the clasp popped open, and the skirt sagged against her hips. Ruby gasped, instinctively clutching at the fabric, but Neo was faster as Ruby’s undershirt went flying off her. Neo’s heel soon then hooked onto the hem of Ruby’s skirt with a swift, practiced motion, her weight shifting just enough to drag the fabric down in one smooth pull. The skirt pooled around Ruby’s ankles, leaving her standing in nothing but her black-and-red lace bra and panties, the delicate embroidery stark against her pale skin. The warehouse air was frigid against her exposed body, raising goosebumps along her thighs and arms.

Torchwick’s cane tapped against her hipbone, the metal icy as it traced the scalloped edge of her panties. "Now there’s the Little Red I wanted to see," he mused, his voice thick with amusement.

Ruby wanted to protest but the tip of Neo's parasol poked into the back Ruby's bra, giving her an idea of what she had to remove next as the parasol’s tip pressed harder, the cold glass biting into the delicate lace of Ruby’s bra, making the fabric strain against her skin. A whimper caught in her throat as Neo twisted the parasol just enough to emphasize the threat—one sharp flick, and the fragile material would tear. Torchwick’s cane slid lower, tracing the waistband of her panties with deliberate slowness, the metal sending shivers up her spine.

Ruby’s fingers twitched at her sides, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The choice was gone now—Neo’s silent, expectant stare and Torchwick’s smirk made that clear. Oh how she wished her team were here.

Ruby’s fingers trembled as they crept up to the clasp of her bra, the cold metal biting into her skin as she fumbled with the hook. Torchwick’s cane tapped impatiently against her hip, the sharp click echoing in the silent warehouse as the last barrier between them fell away. The bra slipped from her shoulders, baring her chest to the frigid air, her breath hitching as Neo’s parasol traced a slow, mocking line down her sternum.

The panties came next—her thumbs hesitating at the lace trim before peeling them down her thighs, the fabric whispering against her skin as it pooled at her feet. "Good, now kneel." Roman demanded as Ruby reluctantly obeyed as she began to kneel.

Ruby’s bare knees pressed into the rough concrete, the cold biting into her skin as she lowered herself into the deep, submissive bow—dogeza—her forehead nearly touching the ground. The warehouse air prickled against her exposed back, every shiver making the humiliation burn deeper. Torchwick’s polished boots stepped closer, the toe of one nudging beneath her chin to **** her gaze upward.

Neo circled behind her, the tap-tap of her parasol against the floor like a ticking clock. The glass blade grazed Ruby’s bare shoulder, tracing the curve of her spine before coming to rest at the small of her back—a silent warning not to move.