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“I like the new look, by the way,” Techno says, hooking a finger underneath one of Quackity’s suspender belts and stretching it upwards. The elasticity is more forgiving than expected, allowing Techno to raise the belt higher than truly necessary for what he plans to do next. He’s hardly complaining though—it’ll simply make things more fun. “Very fashionable.”
Techno lets go of the belt, which viciously snaps into place against Quackity’s back, causing the petty tyrant to let out an incredibly undignified squeak. The noise, along with the arched back and short gasp that come with it, are almost cute. Though Techno has never considered himself an overly sadistic guy, he’ll be the first to admit that he’s not above enjoying the pain of his enemies—especially enemies as pathetic as Quackity.
Techno laughs lowly. “Oops, that must’a hurt.” Quackity growls into the blackjack table that he’s bent over, his nails digging into the green felt.
“Hope it was fucking worth it, pal. I’m—”
“Gonna try to execute me again?” Techno asks, leaning on the hand that’s pinning Quackity down. The pressure isn’t enough to do any real damage, but it’s painful enough to cut Quackity off and replace what was certainly going to be a threat with a breathless whine of distress instead. “Or would you rather send me back to prison?”
“Get off me,” Quackity snarls, voice thin from pain and lack of oxygen. “You fucking anima—”
Techno presses down harder on Quackity’s back, cutting him off mid-insult and possibly cracking one of his ribs by the sound of the whimper the action elicits. “That’s enough of that,” Techno says, letting the amusement drip off of his voice in a manner that he hopes is infuriating. “Y’know, if you keep talkin’ to me like that, I’m gonna have to wash your mouth out with some soap.”
Quackity makes a noise a few steps to the left of a proper hiss and weakly raises his middle finger in Techno’s general direction. It’s far more entertaining than it has any right to be.
Though Techno had come to Las Nevadas in search of bloody revenge, he’d become distracted by his desire to play with his prey. The way Quackity had pressed himself up against the wall of the private gambling parlor that Techno had chased him into, entire body shaking, eyes wide with terror, had flipped a switch inside of Techno’s brain. Just killing Quackity would be boring. After three months of being confined to a prison cell, Techno wanted to have a little fun.
“Just—Just fuck me already.” Quackity’s voice, shaky and straining against the pressure on his lungs, jolts Techno back to reality. “You sick fucking bastard, I—I know you want to do it.”
Now that’s a fun idea.
If Techno’s being honest with himself, he hadn’t actually put much thought into what he was going to do to Quackity besides take another of his lives. Fucking him sounds fun. It’d be a good way to let off a little steam.
Techno’s hands explore the curve of Quackity’s ass, squeezing into his sides, before delving below to his belt. Quackity shivers and makes another noise, situated somewhere between panic and fervent expectation. There comes the click of a suspender buckle as the belts fall in lax loops down Quackity’s spine.
Brushing them aside, Techno unclasps Quackity’s slacks and impatiently yanks them down, briefs coming with them. Quackity gasps and shies away from the pig-hybrid’s touch, pressing his hips snug against the table-end. Despite his best efforts, he’s still very much exposed, and what a thing of beauty it is—caramel-toned skin, strong thighs, and a truly magnificent ass.
Techno’s never been one for admiring the superficial, but it’s impossible to ignore a treasure fitting enough to plunge Troy into a second war. It’s a shame he’d fucked up the poor tyrant’s face before he could know how well it’d accompany that body. Yet, nothing stands as a testament to justice more than the blinding of his wicked foe.
The distant memory of Quackity’s torn eye resurfaces like a daydream, the organ reduced to nothing but a gelatinous soup in its socket as the pickaxe splits his skin—it made Techno hard like nothing else could. Quackity visibly trembles. In spite of his heart-stopping fear, there’s a heat, and a fire to the temperance of his skin.
Techno’s elbow falls squarely between Quackity’s shoulders as he leans down to whisper in his ear.
“Now, if I didn’t know any better,” Techno starts, ignoring Quackity’s gasps for breath, “I’d say you’re almost looking forward to this.” Quackity’s eyes go wide, the air returning to his lungs when Techno eases off him.
“You—” Quackity spits, “You fucking wish, you filthy—” Techno raises a hand and delivers a harsh strike to Quackity’s ass.
The sound is sharp and unceremonious, but it has a profound effect on Quackity, who collapses bonelessly against the green felt and shivers. Without warning, Techno brings down another vicious smack, followed by another. Quackity cries out, hips swaying in a confusing mix of hiding away and presenting himself. “Fuck—Fucking stop!”
The words tumble from Quackity’s mouth, uncertain, as tears gather in his eyes. It still isn’t enough, even as his palm-bruised skin turns a dazzling red. Techno cackles.
“What? You tellin’ me you can dish it out but you can’t take it?” His hand burns with brilliant warmth as he slaps Quackity’s ass, again and again, causing Quackity to hide his face in the crooks of his elbows.
With those infectious noises muffled, Techno pauses and shoves Quackity’s beanie off, only to pull him up by the hair. Quackity hisses in pain. “Y’know, we could actually get this over with if you weren’t so stubborn,” Techno says with a mocking eye roll, “All you gotta do is admit you want this.”
He raises his snout proudly. “I mean, I get the apprehension. I’m sure you’ve never taken a guy like me before.” Quackity huffs in rage.
“Oh, get off your fucking high-horse.” Techno slams him down when he tries to stand, smashing his jaw against the table with an audible thunk. Quackity thrashes once, before stilling. “News flash, asshole! You’re not the first man to rape me, and you certainly won’t be the last. Whatever you’ve got, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Techno smirks.
“You sure?”
Quackity tenses when Techno rolls his hips, his erection dragging slowly between his legs and teasingly against his ass. Techno presses down, chest-to-back with Quackity, and cages him in against the table. “That feel like somethin’ you’ve had before?”
Quackity’s stunned silence says everything. Techno cackles. “How much d’you think I can fit inside before it splits you in half?”
Quackity moans in response, eagerly shifting his hips back to meet Techno’s.
“It’s not gonna fit,” mumbles Quackity, who makes no move to flee as Techno’s hands withdraw to pull his cock from his pants. It falls heavily against Quackity’s lower back, smearing precum across his skin.
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Quackity glances over his shoulder and practically jolts out of his skin. Techno must be fifteen inches long, at the very least, not to mention the thickness of it—nearly greater than the diameter of the casino’s largest whiskey bottle.
Techno wastes no time, spitting on his fingers and coating them well before they’re shoved inside Quackity, who squeaks in surprise. Instead of shying away, Quackity angles his hips up for better access and mutters a curse under his breath.
Techno lifts an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so you do like this?” Quackity shakes his head.
“No, I—” The end of his reply breaks into a moan as Techno purposely rubs against his prostate. Tears roll down Quackity’s face as he scrapes at the table with his nails. “Stop. Please, just—”
Techno cuts him off by adding another digit and scissoring them. Quackity, despite his protests, matches Techno’s hand in a rhythm and fucks himself back onto his fingers. His skin burns hot to the touch, blood boiling in rage, fear, and fever; everything below the waist aching in some fashion—muscles cramping in his thighs, skin bruising under his enemy’s care.
Techno refuses to give him time to adjust, adding yet another finger and working to stretch him past his limit. Fresh tears rise and spill down Quackity’s face as the pain dances a fine line between euphoric and excruciating. His hips circle and press back insistently, aching to feel Techno’s fingers against his sweet spot again.
Techno studies Quackity as he moves, entranced by the sight and mouth watering at the mere idea of being inside him. Impatient, Techno pulls his fingers out and takes his cock in hand to line it up. It catches on Quackity’s rim, the first inch sinking in easily.
Quackity shouts in panic, smashing his fist repeatedly against the table, “Lube! Lube! Holy shit, please use lube! Techno, stop! Fucking stop!” Techno freezes and Quackity gasps in relief.
“You got any?” Quackity nods and gestures behind himself as he catches his breath.
“In one of the cabinets, far wall behind the bar.” Techno cackles.
“Should’a guessed you’d know where to find it.” He departs to the bar to pull open the cabinets and snoop around. He glances back occasionally to ensure Quackity doesn’t make a run for it.
Techno almost wishes he would; the thrill of a chase would make having his way with him into a sordid reward, fitting of his competence. “You fool around here often?” Quackity’s face turns red.
“Shut the fuck up.” The last cabinet creaks open, revealing a well-used lube bottle at the front. Techno grumbles under his breath as he takes it.
“Figures.” When Techno returns to situate himself behind Quackity, he uncaps it and pours a generous amount into his hand. Quackity tenses at the sound, before lifting his hips and presenting himself.
Techno gives him another smack on the ass with his free hand, for good measure, tearing a surprised yelp from Quackity.
“You better fucking stop that shit or—”
“Or you’ll what, Big Q?” Techno’s harsh tone shocks Quackity like a sudden ice-bath. Techno’s voice softens as he continues, “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna go in dry if you keep being annoyin’. Do you understand?”
Quackity nods. With a pleased sigh, Techno takes himself again in hand and lubes himself up with a pump of his fist. Unsurprisingly, it isn’t enough.
Techno takes the bottle and pours more of the clear fluid directly onto his cock, before placing it out of the way. Quackity braces himself against the table, unsteady, as Techno lines himself up and enters him. The first few inches slide in with ease and Quackity moans with it, pushing himself back to take more.
Techno’s eyes fall shut in bliss as Quackity’s walls squeeze around him in a tight, wet heat. It takes everything in him to not slam all the way inside and surrender to his senses. It’s tempting, wanting to know what it feels like to fuck someone to death.
Techno shakes his head. A death to debauchery would be a gift to Quackity if anything. No, Quackity needs to die painfully; alone, regretful, and nothing but afraid.
Techno takes Quackity’s hips in hand and helps guide him down onto his shaft faster. At halfway in, Quackity mewls, shivering in pain and pleasure as the stretch splits him right down the middle, applying pressure against his prostate without even having to angle for it. The two feelings are constant, sharp, and unceasing, harmonizing in frequency with the drunken arousal in his gut.
Sweat beads against his brow with strain as he whimpers and forces himself to stay relaxed. Pressing in further, Techno groans and digs his nails into Quackity’s skin. No one, man or woman, had ever been able to take him this far inside, yet Quackity was still pushing back for more.
In the next minute, Techno bottoms out snug against Quackity’s hips and sighs in relief. “Quackity, you—” Techno pants. “You really are a thing of beauty.”
Quackity groans in reply as he shivers and scrapes at the felt under his palms.
“Full,” he gasps out, “Oh god, it’s—So full. Feels so good.”
Quackity lays limp against his sweat-damp arms, lightheaded and with his feet barely touching the ground with the help of both Techno’s hands and the length skewering him. If Techno were any bigger, Quackity swears he could be held completely upright on the man’s cock.
“C’mon,” says Techno, who pulls him over by the hips, “Get up so I can fuck you proper.”
Quackity tries to stand but his legs are numb and shaking under his weight.
“Can’t.” Techno huffs, annoyed, and pulls him up anyway to hold him against his chest. When Techno glances down, he pauses. Just above Quackity’s weeping erection is a belly bulge, swollen with the strain of Techno’s length. Quackity regards it in turn and runs a hand down to press into it, causing both Techno and Quackity to moan.
“I’m—I’m close,” gasps Quackity, who squeezes his eyes shut and whines. Techno cackles as he tries to find a good hold on him.
“Okay? You don’t have to announce that to me.”
He rolls his hips again and Quackity cries out. “I’m not tryna make you cum. I couldn’t care less.” He finds his grip, one hand around Quackity’s throat, the other hooked under one of his knees.
Pulling out a bit, Techno thrusts inside a few times. Quackity trembles like a leaf as he cums, orgasm rippling through him violently and pulling his muscles taut. Techno cringes at the feeling.
There’s too much resistance inside; too little lube, paired with Quackity clenching down on him like he intends to hurt him. There’s no way he can fuck him like this. Quackity is too out of his mind to notice Techno setting him up against the desk, only to pull out of him slowly.
The drag of his cock tears another beautiful noise from Quackity as he shudders in pleasure. Once free, Techno flips Quackity around to face him, lifts him by the hips, and lays him down flat on the table’s surface. Quackity opens his mouth a few times to speak, but all that comes out are breathless whispers.
Techno ignores him, lifting both of Quackity’s legs and bringing them together tightly. Holding his knees secure with one hand, he takes the lube bottle and impatiently pours a hefty amount between his thighs. Quackity’s confused expression switches to understanding as he swipes Techno’s hand away, only to press his own thighs together for him.
Techno slips his length snuggly between them, causing Quackity to shiver at the cold slickness against his skin. Techno moans and thrusts up into the new tight space. It’s nothing like being inside Quackity, but it’ll do just as well, especially with thighs like his.
The plush feeling of his body, the wetness of lube, and the pressure as Techno helps squeeze his legs together, sends him closer and closer towards the edge. Quackity’s back arches as Techno’s length rubs against his own with every thrust.
“Faster. Oh god, Techno—” he whines, “More, more. Please.”
Techno groans in compliance, thigh-fucking him at a stellar pace, nails sinking violently into his legs to keep his grip. Quackity cums again with a needy moan, squirming in overstimulation when the motion barely falters. The pressure builds at the base of Techno’s spine, sparking across his skin like a firework.
With a brief stutter, he spills across Quackity’s chest, ruining his nice dress shirt. Techno rides out his orgasm before stilling, the aftershocks leaving him lightheaded and shivering. Techno and Quackity struggle to catch their breath, panting as Quackity’s legs fall apart between them.
The air descends into an unsteady silence. Grunting, Techno tucks his cock away before settling his eyes on Quackity, who merely stares back, unfocussed. In a flash of movement, Techno presses a knife against Quackity’s throat.
It’s an almost teasing pressure, light against his skin. Quackity shakes under the threat, heart racing in his chest, pulse booming in his ears. “Techno, please—” he whispers, his words falling from his mouth in a flurry, “I’ll—I’ll do anything. I promise. Anything you want. Name it and it’s yours.”
He swallows thickly as tears gather in his eyes. “I—I’m sorry. I swear, I swear. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never try to hurt you again. I—I—”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “Please.”
“What I want—” Techno laughs. “—is you six feet under, Big Q. That’s what you can do for me.”
Quackity sobs in panic as he struggles to breathe. “You know what else you can do for me, Quackity? You can pick out your preferred way to die.”
Quackity shakes his head. Techno grabs him by the face and squeezes his nails into the hollows of his cheeks. “C’mon, I know you can do it. Just say somethin’.” Techno cackles. “And while you’re thinkin’ on that, we can get rid of that other eye first.”
A chair swings out of Techno’s periphery and smashes into the side of his head, shattering into nothing but splinters. He topples to the floor, unconscious, as Quackity freezes in shock. Wilbur steps forward and cringes at Techno’s body.
“You think I hit him too hard?” he asks, uncertain. Quackity wipes his eyes and sniffles through a laugh.
“Not hard enough.” Wilbur smiles and pulls Quackity into a messy hug.
“You’re right.” He holds him tighter. “Not hard enough.”