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"Sit back on the table, keep your position, boy." He whispered, leaning in close to the boy's ear. He lightly pressed his body to the other's grinding his hips against the other's while he forced the other up onto the table. His hands moved to the Fey-boys thighs, a tight grip holding that form in place while he continued to grind. He leaned forward once more and bit at the boy's ear, nails pushing into the skin through the fabric to the skin below. After a moment or two, he pulled back and pressed the palm of his hand to the other's crotch, pushing down roughly.

Within a few moments this process would all be over, his hand pulling away and his body moving aside. He gripped the boy by the neck and pulled him off the table, forcing him back into the position he was sitting in once before before he glanced back at the girl on the same table. "Well, I have no business with you, so if you'd like, you and Miss Krow can leave." He stated, turning to walk over to the assistant nurse, lightly trailing nails over the other's shoulder. "Hey you, Fey, come... Sit at my feet like a good boy, you're next."

Gennady tried to control his breathing as Frances strapped him down, wanting to fight but wanting more not to be hurt more than he had to be. He wanted to come out of this still able to see, so he kept still and didn't scream as the chemicals were injected into his eye, though they burned intensely. He shivered involuntarily and let out a small squeak, feeling nauseous and light-headed, his vision blurry from the trauma...or, at least, he hoped just because of that.

Through the whole thing, Michael kept his spine rigid, eyes squeezing closed as he swallowed quite a few disgracing noises, his head going full and swimming with the sensations as his hands clenched in his hair. It was...stiff work keeping himself upright rather than sliding to the floor and simply turning into a cloud of wispy unconscious ether. After all..how embarrassing would that be?

He did actually let slip a low cry of pleasure at the bite against his ear; the nails in his thighs, panting for a moment after as his eyes started to come open. Though the press in against his crotch had him letting out a surprised wail, body stretching as though he were trying to sit up taller. He clenched his jaw, stiffening his shoulders and neck as that hand slid around his neck as he nearly tumbled off the table; legs feeling quite a bit rubbery. He did actually fall to his rump on the ground once he was forced back there, hands still determinedly laced up behind his head as he swayed in place. a tiny intoxicated grin curled the edges of his lips before he heard those last words, eyes going wide as he actually took his hands from behind his head.

"I..d-do I have'ta g-get the...D-do I gotta h-have the n-n...n-n-needles..?" He asked, fidgeting a bit before he dared speak again. "They won't make me sleep..will they..?" He cast frightful eyes across the room as he scooted to stay by the Doctor's feet. He had a phobia of needles, did Michael. Not having had quite the good time with them, last he had spent time under their care.

He smirked and took a step behind Frances, curling an arm around the smaller boy's waist. "Oh, you're so very nice to the boys here, my pet." He said with a small chuckle, leaning in to place a small kiss to the boy's temple. As he leaned in the long locks of hair wisped over and rested against the other's shoulder. For a moment the faint smell of lavender lingered in the air, a small relaxed smile forming along his own expressions. For only a few moments the Doctor held the boy, allowing the scent to linger, but his attention snapped back when the Fey boy began studdering out questions. The relaxed look soon dissipated, his head turning around to glare at the boy. "Did I tell say you could speak?" He asked, his pitch rising with anger.

His arm uncurled from Frances' waist, his own body turning sharply to take the few steps closer to the Fey-child. He glared down at him before barking out an order, "Stand!" With that harsh command his eyes changed to an angry gray color, the edges of his iris a jet black color. While he stood, arms would cross over his chest, hips pushing forward to center his balance, allowing him to stand that way.

He sat still as Frances examined him. "My left eye...everything is very blurry, yes," he said. "Is it...changing color?"

He watched the other leave and come back with the strange little creature. He'd seen a little animal like that in a nature magazine once. They lived in the jungles somewhere...he wondered how the strange boy had gotten one for a pet.

Both of his eyes still hurt, the left more than the right, but he was too upset to cry, instead just shivering from time to time as it became too much.

Gennady started to cry, startled by the outburst. "If anyone's a pig, it's you... You're the one injecting things into innocent people's eyes..." he said bitterly to himself. The tears made his eyes burn scorchingly, making him cry even more. He couldn't believe this. He needed to get away from these psychopaths. He'd kiss up to his dad for hours rather than be here...he'd even cut his hair, the one thing he'd always sworn never to do, if it meant he could be safe at home again...