Old Chucky piece
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@disticfiction
Old Chucky piece
Cooper Howard travels with Lucy to Vegas to find her father, but the sight of the Lucky 38 triggers old, devastating memories. His body reacts in a way he can't control, resulting in a flashback to the day he confronted House.
Tw noncon. Tw rape. Tw violence. Forced orgasms. Cooper has a pussy.
The Mojave sun was a different beast from the one that baked the Commonwealth. It was a sharper, more direct heat, a relentless pressure that made the shimmering horizon of New Vegas look like a mirage born of a fever dream. For Lucy, it was a beacon. She adjusted the pack on her shoulders, a genuine, unforced smile gracing her lips for the first time since she entered the wasteland.
The air in Emmrich's quarters was thick with the scent of old paper, embalming fluid, and something new, something primal and alive: sweat and sex. Rook knelt between the necromancer's trembling thighs, her world narrowed to the soft, heated flesh pressed against her mouth. Emmrich was a man of elegant poise and scholarly reserve, but here, spread out on his bed, he was undone. He was a man with a cunt, and it was weeping for her.
His hands, usually so steady for handling delicate bones and ancient artifacts, were clenched in the sheets, knuckles white. His face, usually composed, was a mask of overwhelmed pleasure. Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes, and his whimpers were constant, broken sounds that went straight to Rook's core. He had already cum twice, his body jerking with each orgasm, but Rook was insatiable.
Hope everything is going well for you! I thought you might be proud of me—I only sometimes post my smut anonymously anymore lol
I'm doing well! Just swamped with work. :(
And I'm extremely proud!!!!!! Your writing is delicious and you should be proud of it too!
I hope you're doing well!
Emmrich crying after having his pussy fucked raw is so important to me. Crying during, of course, but crying after too. His old, wrinkled hole won't close and there's nothing he can do about it, but it also feels so fucking good he can't stop the tears that roll down his cheeks uncontrollably.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS YEAH YEAH YEAH thank you for blessing us with your new post!!!!!!!!!!!!! i've missed you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THANK YOOOOU!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cooper's hole was stretched obscenely wide, a gaping maw of red, glistening flesh that pulsed with each ragged breath he took. The large glass bottle, slick with his own arousal, rested deep inside him, filling him completely and stretching his inner walls to their limit. His labia was distended, taut around the thick base of the intruder, his clit engorged and throbbing visibly.
His entire body trembled with the intensity of the sensations coursing through him. The cool glass against his heated, wrinkled walls sent shivers up his spine, while the relentless pressure made his toes curl. His stomach muscles clenched involuntarily, trying to accommodate the immense size of the object within him, unable to push it out, the straps holding tight.
"Fuck..."
Despite the overwhelming fullness, there was no pain—only a deep, primal pleasure that radiated from his core. His face was somehow flushed, eyes heavy as tears leaked from the corners. Tears of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in his cunt sang with delight, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of stimulation.
His cervix stood out like a protruding button, its normally subtle contours now prominent and swollen due to the prolonged occupation of the glass bottle.
How long had it been since the BOS soldiers stuffed it inside him? He couldn't say. Time had lost all meaning since his capture.
"Please..." he blubbered, though no one could hear him.
His walls were visibly puffed and swollen, resembling a tightly wrapped balloon ready to burst at any moment. The gentle sheen of sweat on his rugged thighs seemed to match the glistening wetness within his channel, where the bottle had been lodged for what felt like an eternity.
"Fuck..." he sobbed. "Ugh, fuck..."
His entire body began to quiver, a telltale sign of his deep-seated longing for release. He didn't care anymore—he just wanted to cum. His breath caught, he bit down hard on his thin lower lip, his entire being coiled with anticipation.
He was close. Impossibly close. All he needed was some movement. Just a small, careless thrust and he would shatter.
But he couldn't. His hands were bound, he was alone in his cell, he couldn't close his legs. All he could do was wait.
Wait until the soldiers decided to play with him again.
I want Emmrich's old pussy hole to be fucked so hard and so long, it turns a slight shade of purple from all the abuse. I want him to cry and scream because it feels so fucking good. I want him to faint from the experience, then wake up and shudder because his hole is still throbbing with unwanted pleasure.
I’m so obsessed when you put Emmrich in situations. Get that old man ruined.
Emmrich's body trembles as he presses his forehead to the cool wall, breath hitching in ragged gasps. He's long since lost track of the numerous orgasms that have wracked him—each one more powerful than the last. His well-used pussy clenches and flutters in violent spasms, releasing wave after wave of slick heat. Wetness drips down his thighs, a raw testament to how deeply he's been ruined.
"P-please..." he whimpers, his voice hoarse from the countless moans and screams that have escaped his throat. "I can't take much more."
He shudders as you tighten your grip, knowing you hold his pleasure in your hands. You know exactly how to touch him, how to tease him, how to bring him to the brink of insanity and back. He is your puppet, and you are his master, pulling the strings of his desire with expert precision.
"Aaaugh!"
His body convulses as another wave of pleasure crashes over him, his decrepit old cunt squirting once more. He can feel his vision swimming, his consciousness threatening to slip away. The sensations are too intense, too all-consuming. He knows that if you make him cum one more time, he might lose himself completely.
"Please," he sobs, his voice a desperate whisper. "I can't... I'm begging you."
But even as the words leave his lips, he knows you won't stop. You won't show him mercy. You'll push him further, force him to take more than he ever thought he could endure. And he'll obey—because he's yours to command.
His body shakes with anticipation, his hole clenching in eager expectation. He braces himself against the wall, knuckles white from the strain. He can't see what you're doing—but he feels it. The stretch, the relentless pounding, something thick and unyielding dragging against his tight, sensitive channel.
"Ugh! No!"
He can feel the pressure building once more, the familiar tension coiling in his belly.
Maker, it's so good. Too good.
"Cum for me, Emmrich," you order, your voice a low growl that sends shivers down his spine.
"Just one more time," you lie. "Cum."
And with a final, desperate cry, Emmrich surrenders—his body arching as he cums harder than ever before. His hole gushes and spasms, his vision flaring white as he's swallowed by the abyss of ecstasy.
Then his consciousness fades, his body going limp as he slides down the wall, utterly spent and beautifully broken.
But even as darkness claims him, he knows this isn't over. You will be back, and you will push him further still.
And he will obey, because he is yours, body and soul.
In the dingy, sterile room, Phineas Welles lay strapped to a cold, metal slab, his body writhing in a mix of shame and ecstasy. His eyes were rolled back, his toes curled, and his cheeks were flushed a deep, humiliated red. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a testament to the torment he'd been forced to endure.
His body, once a temple of scientific prowess, was now a playground for the depraved. His pussy, a sight both grotesque and beautiful, gaped wide open, held obscenely by metal clamps. The flesh inside was a wrinkled, swollen mess, the result of countless assaults. The lips were stretched taut, revealing more of the wrecked, glistening interior, slick with a mix of lubricant and his own fluids.
It was a canvas of utter degradation, a stark contrast to the man's former glory.
A large, steel rod lay discarded on the slab beside him, its surface gleaming with evidence of its role. The length was thick and ragged, designed to inflict maximum pleasure, and it had clearly been used on the old scientist—mercilessly.
In fact, he might've missed it. Even now, in this rare moment of respite, his hole shuddered at the loss, the muscles inside spasming and twitching, as if begging for more.
But no.
He was better than this. At least, he was supposed to be.
As he fought to maintain some semblance of control, the door to the room swung open, and Adjutant Sophia Akande stepped inside. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her expression stoic. Unreadable.
Wasting no time at all, she took in the scene before her, her gaze lingering on the other men in the room before finally settling on Phineas' cunt.
"Well, well," she said, her voice a low purr. "It seems you've all been having fun without me." Her eyes flared with a mix of amusement and cruelty as she took in the sight of Phineas' abused body. "Clearly, you've had your way with him."
Phineas tried to speak, to curse her and the Board; as he had so many times before, but his words were lost in a moan of pleasure. Once again, his body betrayed him, his hole squirting and spasming as waves of unwanted bliss washed over him.
"That happens now," one of the men interjected. "Sometimes he'll just... cum. For no reason."
Sophia's lips curled into a rarely seen smile, a notion both gorgeous and terrifying.
"It's truly delightful to see the once-great criminal, Phineas Welles, fall victim to such baser instincts," she said, her voice dripping with spite.
She turned on her heel, her boots clicking on the cold floor as she made her way to the door.
"Continue," she ordered the men, her voice leaving no room for argument.
As the door swung shut behind her, one of the men stepped forward, a wicked grin on his face. He approached the slab, his eyes fixed on Phineas' gape, while Phineas instinctively tried to pull away.
"What are you gonna do?" one of the man's colleagues asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he began to fist the old scientist's hole, his hand disappearing into the vast chasm.
"Aaaughugh!"
Phineas cried out, a sound that was half-disapproval, half delirious consent. His body arched off the slab, his hips bucking wildly as the man's fist slammed in and out of him, drumming against his cervix.
"You like that?" he scoffed, the wet, sticky sound echoing through the room. "You freak."
Phineas' face was a mask of crazed ecstasy, a smile stretching from ear to ear as he came almost immediately, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm.
To the man, this was exercise. To Phineas, it was routine.
The room was filled with the sound of his moans, the wet, slapping noise of flesh against flesh, and the occasional grunt from the man as he continued his brutal assault.
"Fuck yeah, look at him go!"
"He'll feel that tomorrow!"
"He's feeling it right now!"
The men laughed, while Phineas was lost in a world of sensation, his mind a slave to the pleasure that coursed through his veins. His hole clenched and released around the man's fist, more fluids gushing onto the floor in a sickening symphony of submission.
Days had passed. Perhaps weeks. Without the ability to see outside, the old scientist couldn't be sure. All he knew was the Captain wasn't coming to save him.
This was his life now.
And Architect, it felt so fucking good.
In the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the scent of sweat, misery, and the acrid tang of spent lust, Professor Emmrich Volkarin lay sprawled on the cold stone floor. His body, once a vessel of knowledge and arcane power, was now a wrecked landscape of tears and unwanted pleasure.
"Maker..." he sobbed, eyes wandering.
His old, wrinkled pussy, a relic of a past life, was gaping and dripping, the flesh red and inflamed from the brutal assault. He could feel every throb, every spasm, as if his body had a mind of its own, betraying him with waves of perverse ecstasy.
He'd been raped. For hours.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he tried to crawl away from the monster who had violated him, even if he knew it was pointless. His limbs felt like lead, his muscles screaming in protest with every feeble movement. The floor beneath him was slick with his own fluids, the evidence of his repeated, forced orgasms. He could feel the cool air on his exposed flesh, the draft sending shivers down his spine, making him all too aware of his ruined state.
"Not so fast!"
Rough, calloused hands suddenly grabbed the sides of his ravaged pussy, pulling gradually.
"Aaaugh!"
Emmrich cried out, then let out a choked sob, his body trembling as he looked back over his shoulder. His attacker, a towering figure of muscle and malice, grinned down at him, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and sadistic delight.
Emmrich's vision swam, his eyes rolling back as he begged, "Please... stop. I can't... take any more."
"Stop squirming," the man growled. "Let me admire my handiwork."
The man's fingers, thick and cruel, dug into Emmrich's flesh, stretching his passage obscenely wider. He could feel every ridge, every nodule, as if his body had been turned inside out.
Why did it feel so good?
"That's it," the man chuckled. "What a sight."
His gaze was fixed on the gaping hole, his expression one of morbid fascination. Emmrich's old pussy hole was a mess of red, raw flesh, gushing with a torrent of clear fluids. His passage was so stretched his attacker could see his cervix—a dark, pulsating point in the center of the carnage.
The man never came inside him, and Emmrich now realized it was because he wanted to witness his destroyed passage unobstructed.
"Fuck, I wish you could see this," the man breathed, basking in the way Emmrich's hole pulsated around his fingers. "I don't think it's ever gonna heal. You'll remember me."
"Ugh... please..."
Despite his best efforts to hold back, Emmrich's body betrayed him once more. The stretching, the shame, the sheer humiliation of being stared at in such a degrading manner sent him over the edge.
"Aaaaughugh!"
He came with a choked cry, his body convulsing as he squirted, the fluids spraying onto the floor beneath him. His attacker's grin widened, his eyes never leaving the vulgar display.
"Yes! That's it! Cum, you useless fool!"
Emmrich felt his mind snap, his vision blurring at the edges, and then he collapsed with a gentle thud, drool rolling down his chin.
"Fuck, that was amazing," the man wheezed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I've never seen a man cum just from being fondled before. But I guess after all that fucking, you're extra sensitive now, huh?"
Emmrich didn't reply, lost in a haze of sorrow and ecstasy.
"Well, thanks for the party," the man taunted. "Maybe we'll meet again someday."
With a final, mocking pat, the man released him, leaving Emmrich defeated—alone on the floor. His body continued to spasm, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he tried to process the sheer horror of what had just happened. His old pussy throbbed, the shame and pleasure intertwining in a sickening dance, a constant reminder of his violation.
As his consciousness began to fade, he could only hope that the darkness would provide some semblance of escape from the nightmare he now inhabited.
...Why did it feel so good?
Thinking about Nyoka breaking into the bathroom because Vicar Max is taking too damn long again. She discovers the reason: he's been pleasuring himself. When she sees his needy cunt she can't help but pin him against the sink and slam her beer bottle inside him, fucking that old pussy hole until he cums so many times, he blacks out. As he falls to the floor, twitching and overstimulated, she takes a piss, steps over him, closes the door, and leaves him to his shame.
Thinking about tranquil Emmrich. Thoughts? 👀
It's fun to think of him just laying there and taking it, but becoming tranquil strips them of feeling and emotion. I want him to be aware. 😏
Will 'twisted' be updated again? I love that short fic compilation
At some point, I do plan on it!
Are you currently working on any new fics at the moment? Yes this is me being desperate for new content from you. :)
I am! Work has just been a killer lately and kind of draining me, but I have a few I'm working on bit by bit!
Your writing reminds me of hentai manga in the best way possible, also those 2 strip hentai on pixiv
Thanks! You're basically calling my writing erotic and that means a lot. 😉
Ok omg you just took my idea and made it so much better. Emmrich crying over the death of the person who used him as a fuck toy?? Yes please.
He knows he'll be missing that sweet, sweet stretch. 😏