Working a small bar in the Wasteland is about as ‘good’ as one can get, in your case it’s more of a stepping stone. It was a quick easy way to get caps, and figure out where was best to move on to that wasn’t the Wasteland. Somewhere closer to the middle of the continent there had to still be some life in this dead world. At least that’s what you deluded yourself into believing.
This bar had its quirks though, one of the only places in the ghost town that allowed synths and ghouls in. Didn’t bother you, their caps were as good as anyone else's. And usually they kept bar fights to a minimum.
It was going well, working the bar was doing well, and you were pocketing the extra. Without your boss’ knowing, of course. You were getting out of this place and hiding yourself somewhere in the mountains. Where the radiation hadn’t wreaked so much havoc, and you could grow food from the ground like they did so many years ago.
But then he showed up, another ghoul, or so you thought at first. Dressed in a wrecked leather duster that was closer to a rag than a coat, belts criss-crossed his chest and hips, decorated with a plethora of guns and ammunition. Dust covered boots, and a dark wide-brimmed cowboy hat completed the odd look. But you couldn’t care less, everyone’s got a shtick in the Wasteland. He was apparently a washed up cowboy. A gleam to his dark eyes that sent a chill of apprehension and curiosity down your spine that settled uneasy in your stomach, but you ignored it, just gave him a smile and poured him a drink.
He was quiet, this Ghoul, kept his head down, beneath his oversize cowboy hat, ordered a whiskey straight and left a decent tip when he was done. That’s all, he’d show up and order a whiskey straight, which you’d give a decent pour. He’d drink quietly as you tried not to stare for too long, he usually caught you at some point gawking. You’d jolt and return to pretending to clean a glass that you’ve been holding for several minutes, you swear he smirks to himself seeing you so flighty.
There’s gaps between his appearances like everyone in the Wasteland, people are a blip in your radar just as you are in theirs. They come in, drink, pay, and leave. You don’t get attached, neither do they. It’s how you survive in this world. But he always manages to surprise you, after a long haul of time, he just appears…right as you’re about to forget about him and his odd gimmick.
But it’s your final shift here, you’ve hoarded enough caps, and you’re out of here. Of course he had to show up, but this time, he didn't take his spot at the dingy table in the corner with the flickering overhead light.
No he sits front and center at your bar, those eyes just watching you. Even as you prepare his usual whiskey straight. He stares at you under the shadow of his hat brim, dark eyes flick with your every movement.
His skin is like all ghouls you’ve seen, looks more like beef jerky than flesh, the skin so dry it clings to his skull. It’s a bit unnerving but you ignore the cloying of disquiet in your gut as you set the drink down beside him he shocks you further, “Seem to have a bit more pep in your step since the last time I saw you.”
You blink, it’s the most he’s ever spoken to you, in…well ever. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, “Y–Yeah, just, good day.”
That’s what you hoped to leave it at, as you set his drink down the glass giving a satisfying clink against the wooden bar. The amber liquid sloshing about inside, he’s quick to pick up the drink. Downing it in a single gulp, setting it down with a pronounced ‘ah’.
“‘Nother one if you please.” He’s quiet for a moment as you go to pour him another glass, but as you set the filled crystal before him he speaks again.
“So what’s made your day so good?”
You sigh through your nose, wondering how much you should reveal, but honestly he’s a rarity around these parts and most likely no one you care about knowing will pass him.
“I’m getting out of this shit heap tonight,” you admit as you pour another healthy drink, the whiskey sloshes about, the amber turning golden in the halogen lights. He takes another drink, though he’s a bit slower on draining it. The liquor slips between his lips, you're drawn in for a moment, fascinated by him.
All Ghouls look similar to you, that jerky-like burnt skin, the flesh stretched too thin over bone. But he’s still managed to keep his lips, a bit full and plump, but like all Ghouls that cavern where his nose should be sends a quiver of disgust through you. Makes you wonder why the nose rots away while the flesh burns.
“Huh, and where do you plan on heading out to?”
You shrug, not wanting to answer his question, lest he ruin the adventure for you. The dreams you’ve built up in your mind that kept you working at this dump, day in and out. When he sees he won’t get an answer from you he chuckles, a low dark thing, and drains the glass again. Shaking it in a silent request for more. You oblige, if he wants to waste his caps here…that’s his business.
He keeps drinking for the rest of the night, draining your whiskey bottle, before you close. So you’re forced to improvise with other amber liquors. But he doesn’t seem to mind, even as you welcome and farewell other customers.
Till suddenly it’s just the two of you, and you’re hoping to close soon. But he’s just…sitting there, an empty glass beside him. You approach, an almost empty bourbon in your fist.
“‘Bout to kick me out Darlin’?”
You don’t like the way your innards warm at darlin’ but you shrug, “I need to close but figured you could use the last drink on the house.”
You pour the rest of the bottle, those eyes watching as the glass fills. Giving you a wicked smirk as he takes another drink.
“Would yah mind joining me?”
You almost deny him, the moment you close this place up you’re done. Free of this fucking place and the shit people in it. This will be the last time you see him, so what's the harm?
“Guess a quick drink won’t hurt.”
He smiles, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, a practiced movement of lips pulling up and baring his dirtied teeth.
“Wonderful,” he hums low in his throat as he takes another drink, as you turn to the bar, grabbing the last clean glass. Filling it with the good stuff, setting the bottle aside you wander back over. Annoyed, as the Ghoul has finished his glass, he gives you a look you can only label as smug.
“Couldn’t help myself–”
“Sure,” you mutter, but honestly, no one will bitch at you about the wasted liquor in the morning…So you really don’t care about pouring another glass, “This one is not on the house.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He grins, and this time a gleam settles in his eye. It sends another ripple of something down your spine, that settles in your abdomen behind your navel. Setting your glass down you turn taking the glass to the back counter where you’ve left the bottle, pouring him the good stuff as well. Before turning back and placing it before him, the liquor splashes against the sides, nearly spilling over the top of the glass’ rim.
He takes the chipped glass and holds it up in a toast, “To happy days.”
You clink your glass edge against his, before chugging the liquor, wincing as it burns a trail from your tongue down to your stomach. The Ghoul growled out a noise that made the heat flare for a moment. Those eyes lock onto yours as he sets the glass down, empty, the liquor shining on his lips.
You wonder what he looked like before becoming a ghoul, there’s a hint of handsome to his features. A square jaw, high cheekbones, and a strong physique. You blink out of your assessment of him, as you realize it’s past time to close, and the longer you’re here, the longer it’ll take to freedom.
“Alright, well you’ve had your drink,” you speak as you take the glasses and turn to put them in the bar sink, but as you shift…the room tilts. Whirls might be a better word for it, as you stumble into the bar top. The glasses slip from your hands and shatter on the dirtied floor.
The crystal shines like starbursts in the halogen bulbs glow, as you fall to your knees. Your mouth going cotton-dry, your limbs feel like lead filled balloons. Every movement of your head sends your vision spinning, you can’t think save for, I’ve been drugged.
A shadow casts over you, taking away the pretty starbursts beneath you, you manage to force your head up, standing over you with a look in those eyes you can’t name. A tip of his pink tongue slips out licking along his burnt lips as they pull into a wide grin.
“Don’t you fret Darlin’,” he coos, kneeling down a leather gloved hand tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. “Gonna take real good care o’ yah.”
Your arms slump as they can no longer take your weight, your body landing with a painful thump. A hand caresses your head, like a beloved pet, and all your thickened tongue can manage out is a soft whimpered, “Please.”
Before darkness claims you in its horrid clutches.
–
Aching, that’s what pulls you from the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, an ache that burns between your thighs, that overwhelms you for a moment as it pulses up your spine and muddies your thoughts. Sweat coats your skin in a sticky layer, your body still feels like lead, your arms refusing to move. Your wrists throb, unwilling–unable to move as your fingers flex weakly.
As your slowly waking mind tries to grasp at a coherent thought, your nerves alight. You manage to grasp that your thighs are open, the aching that awoke you comes from your cunt. Your eyes refuse to open, as something rough splits soaked folds and something sucks on your throbbing clit.
A wrecked half-aware moan leaves you, as painful pleasure sparks from the thing splitting your folds dipping into the entrance of your cunt before dragging up to your clit to suck the bud again. Your thighs tense, but do not listen to your command to close. Something holds them open as the mind numbing pleasure overwhelms coherent thought.
Your fingers weakly twitch, back bowing as your clit is sucked and lashed with the rough thing. Your eyes finally listen and split open, only to wince shut again as light burns into your corneas and sends a jolt of pain through your skull. You manage to open them again, the world around you is a hazy golden-hued mass. A ramshackle room, the rusted wire frame of a bed, your wrists chained above your head.
It’s dizzying, trying to process what the fuck is happening, and your mind refuses to do more then let your head roll around like a disjointed marionette. As you attempt to focus, another suck on your clit has your back arching, your mouth falling open, and another sluggish noise leaving your throat.
You feel the sensation of hands holding your thighs open, the heat of them feel like burning as they keep you splayed open. As awareness bleeds into some coherent thought you manage to force your neck to move your head. Where you can finally focus your drug-hazed mind on.
The Ghoul, laid between your thighs face messy with your slick as he pulls back to meet your murky gaze, that pink tongue slips out collecting the juices shining on his lips and chin. He huffs giving you a wide feral grin.
“Didn’t mean t’wake you Darlin’,” he hums, your cunt throbs and you whine, head falling back as pleasure and pain mingle, your clit throbs. A wetness gathered beneath your ass, all you can wonder is how long this has been happening, “Couldn’t resist with you smelling so delicious.”
As the Ghoul speaks he lowers back down those eyes watching you as his tongue wriggles between your folds, teasing into your soaked cunt’s entrance. Another wave of pleasure overwhelms as a keening whimper rips from you. Your eyes flutter and your vision swims, your hips buck into his face.
He gives a dark chuckle as he buries himself into you, jaw dropping as his tongue teases in and out of your cunt. Slurping at your juices with a zeal you’ve never witnessed any other sexual partners devouring you with.
Your first climax hits you as he slips back up to your clit, tongue rough against the sensitive bud. It’s almost painful as your cunt pulses, empty and aching, more half-aware noises leaving you as your writhe. Unable to escape the Ghoul’s mouth as his tongue swirls around your clit, and sucks again. You whine and finally your tongue manages to form a word, “S-stop.”
It’s a wispy whimper of a word, that you’re not sure the Ghoul hears, as you can barely process you said it yourself. The Ghoul snarls as he gives another broad lick of your cunt, groaning as a string of spit and slick link his tongue and your cunt.
It snaps as he sits up, those too hot hands finally releasing your thighs, though the flesh burns in his wake. He remains between your legs, and your muscles continue to ignore every weak signal your brain tries to send.
“Fuck, you taste even better then yah smell,” he pants he’s removed his hat, the ragged duster and his leather gloves. He palms himself through his stained jeans, growling as his hips buck into the sensation. “Those little noises you make, knew they’d get me going.”
His other hand traces up your naked thigh, you realize you’ve been stripped bare. As naked as the day you were born and exposed to his greedy gaze you whine, even just the tips of his fingers scorch against your skin.
“Wh–what di’you–” words still stick on your tongue like thick honey, the appendage still unable to grasp onto the consonants lingering on the vowels.
“Now, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he hums, those fingers stop at your mound before delving lower. Those fingers stop at your clit, rubbing too soft circles around it, but your nerves still frayed from your climax spark with the pleasure, another wrecked groan leaves you. “Gotta open you up.”
He growls to himself, as they stop their teasing of your clit to stroke down between your puffy folds. He teases your entrance for a few moments letting the tips of three fingers toy with you, before three fill you with a suddenness that steals your laboring breath.
“F–Fuck!” You swear your eyes cross behind your eyelids, the heat of his fingers filling you borders on painful, but the pleasure overtakes it. As he starts a slow pace, spreading his fingers inside of you, the tips curling deep inside.
“Oh fuck, Darlin’,” he hums hovering above you, his tongue slips out to taste sweat soaked skin, his other hand still rubbing him through his jeans. Your cries and his groans mingle, with the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out of your soaked cunt. Pleasure clenches your muscles, tightening the coil in your navel as he drags his finger tips again and again over a spot deep in your cunt. “You’re soaked, knew you would be, fuck would’ve taken you sooner.”
“Wha–wait,” words are starting to form better, as the stickiness in your throat and mouth leave, but they’re cut off by moans, and whines as the pleasure overwhelms again, thoughts become wisps that you can’t fully grasp, as his finger tip rubs again and again. Drool leaks from the corner of your lip, as the Ghoul nips and marks along your body.
“Hush, let me take care of yah, let me hear that little mouth scream for me.”
His fingers fuck into you harder, the pace quickening, the pleasure drowning you as another climax hits you. A ringing echoes in your ears, only harmonized by the scream that rips itself from your lungs.
A garbled plea is all that leaves you, begging for it to end, it’s too much and when the Ghoul finally slips his fingers from you with a wet squelch, that should horrify you, but your mind is too focused on how empty you feel now. You bite down on your lip to stop yourself from begging for them back, as a wetness grows beneath your ass.
“Would yah look’it that,” he praises, spreading his fingers still coated in your slick, strands glow in the soft light, he grins a dark look shadowing his eyes as he takes those fingers into his mouth. Suckling on the digits with a delight hum. “Fuck, will never get tired of this taste.”
“What did you dooo t’me,” you whine as your body can only writhe beneath him, the Ghoul chuckles his breath too hot against the skin of your breast where he takes another nip, skin splits beneath his teeth. Blood wells in the wound and he moans tongue slurping up the red matter.
“Just, had t’make yah a little more pliant.”
You pull at your chains, uncaring that your wrists feel like they’re breaking, the pain helps balance the flood of pleasure as the Ghoul pulls back, lips stained with the bright red of your blood. He pants both hands going to his jeans, with quick movements he’s freeing himself from the confines.
He fists his cock with the hand still coated in your slick, his moans mix with the wet sound of his fist fucking over his cock, again and again. Your mind blanks seeing the size of him, and your useless legs manage to listen to the memo finally and you manage a few weak kicks to him before his hands grab your thighs again.
“Now, now sweet heart,” he coos leaning over you, those eyes boring into your own. “Don’t want to have to give you more of the good stuff, figured one dose would be enough…but if I gotta keep you on a steady supply I will.”
“S–steady supply of what?” You grind out between your teeth as he maneuvers your legs with ease, his skin shines with a thin layer of sweat, in the dim glow of the sunlight his flesh seems all the more hellish.
“Day trippers sweet heart, though…added my own little spin to ‘em,” he grins, again that practiced look, it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I gotta say, you’re takin’ to ‘em beautifully.”
He hums, his breath too warm as it wafts over you, you jolt feeling his cock slot between your folds. Too hot, like the rest of him you squirm fingers clenching now as the bed frame groans with both of your movements. His hands slip behind your thighs, pressing them back, what little breath you had in your lungs is forced out as he pushes your legs back. Your knees settle against your collarbones, thighs squishing your breasts.
Breathing becomes labored, but all your mind can focus on is the heat of his shaft between your soaked folds. You can feel veins' pulse, as it rubs against you with every slow grind of his hips. The Ghoul growls low in his throat as he finishes pressing you in half.
“Gonna fuck you so full,” he growls, hips shifting as he brings a hand between your bodies, positioning himself.
“Please–” you don’t really know what you’re pleading for, your mind is going fuzzy again, as the pleasure floods your system. All you can focus on is the head of his cock teasing your entrance.
“Ready Darlin’?” He groans as he gives slow aborted thrusts that only serve to tease the bulbous head of his cock into your entrance.
“Ready to be mine?”
He pushes in a bit deeper. Both of you groan as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper, uncaring that your groan of pleasure edges into a whine of pain.
“Ready for me to fuck you till your cunt only takes my cock?” He gasps as he bottoms out, with your lungs empty of air all you can manage is a wispy cry, tears burn in the corners of your eyes. The burn of him filling you, overrides the pleasure for a moment.
“Hurts,” is all you can mumble out as the Ghoul groans above you. You whine, feeling it throb inside of you, the head nudging against your cervix, so deep inside of you, you swear it’s buried behind your navel. “P–please.”
“Hush now,” he groans grinding himself into you, a choked gasp leaving him as your walls quiver around him. He swears this is the closest to heaven he’s ever been in his long, long life. “I’ll go slow, let yah get used to it.”
He does as he says slowly pulling back, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive walls. A keening moan leaves you, as it rubs against that spot his fingers found, he pauses, sinking back in, cock rubbing against it again and again. The pleasure sparks and slowly it swamps the pain.
“Fuck, yes,” he snarls hands gripping your thighs so hard you can feel the ache of bruises settling into the skin where his hands are. “Knew this cunt would be perfect, knew I’d be the one to fuck you full, ruin you.”
His thrusts change, pulling out more and thrusting in harder, the echo of flesh clapping against flesh filling the room, along with the groans and squeaks of the rusted bed frame. He plows into your cunt with vigor previous partners could never hope to reach.
His cock spears you open, rubs your walls with fervor that borders on feral as his eyes drop closed and he pants with every thrust. All you can manage is half aware noises mixed with pleasure maddened pleas. All your mind can focus on is the pleasure zapping up your spine as he buries himself again and again inside of you.
The wet sounds as his thrusts force more slick from between your folds, as he grinds himself against you. His hand shifts inwards, enough that his thumb finds your clit rubbing the bud. A shriek leaves you at the added sensation and he laughs, a wild, manic thing as he hunches over you. Groaning as your cunt clenches around him, walls quivering as another climax threatens to break you.
“You gonna cum?” He growls and all you can manage is a garbled yes, he snarls. Hips going somehow faster and his thumb pressing against your clit, it hits you as his cock rubs over that spot again.
Another scream pulled from your raw throat, your mind going blank as he fucks you through the final orgasm he’s managed to wrangle from your exhausted body.
As you weep, and plead for him to stop as pleasure turns once again to pain, he huffs with another laugh, and grinds hard into your cunt his cock throbbing inside of you. His hips lose their pattern but another weaker climax washes over you as his thumb keeps up its torment of your oversensitive nerves, a wetness coats his thighs and your ass.
He jolts as suddenly he folds over you, the last of your breath forced from your lungs and you struggle to intake more. He grinds deep inside, and you feel the warmth of his release filling you. The heat is burning, scorching as it fills you too full, you writhe and cry beneath him. He presses himself deeper, his cock throbbing as your walls milk him for every drop.
You squirm, toes curling and your muscles tense, though no other action helps to move him. As he grunts pulling out of you, letting your legs fall like dead weights to the bed, a cloud of dust churning in the air.
He huffs tucking himself away, before tutting down at you with a pouted lip, his fingers going to you cunt where your mixed fluids leak.
“Now, now, now,” he hums fingers pressing into your cunt, you jolt with a cry as he fingers it back inside. “You keep that all in there, don’t want to waste any of it.”
“Wha–whaddya mean?” You manage between pants as his fingers continue to fuck your cunt, slow and placid. Again his fingers curl just right and you’re keening, back arching off the bed as another horrid wave of pleasure threatens to overtake your mind again.
“We’re startin’ a family,” he huffs and even with the drugs still wreaking havoc on your mind and body, it douses some of the pleasure in ice-cold realization. “I’ve decided that my outlaw days have come to a close, and you…would make the perfect little homemaker.”
“The fuck,” he watches as as you struggle through the Day Tripping haze to process what you’re even trying to ask. “Why did you–you take me?”
“You were perfect, no one to go home to, you only work at that bar, and better yet…you were headed out of dodge with some caps and a dream.”
He smiles that wide feral grin that sends fear coiling through your guts, you pull against your restraints wrists alight with pain. As you scramble to think of some way, anyway to get out of this.
“Pl–please,” you whimper, dreams of getting away, being free, collapsing into dust before your very eyes. “I’ll pay you, tell you where I’ve hidden the caps, just let me go—”
The Ghoul sighs through the hole where his nose once was, shaking his head as he removes his fingers from your aching cunt. You whimper tears bead along your lashes before falling, fat and warm down your cheeks.
“Was hoping I wouldn’t have to fuck you till you see there’s no other choice but to stay with me, but aw who am I kidding,” his fingers find your clit as he reaches into his pocket pulling out a syringe filled with a pasty-white liquid, he pokes the needle into the fat of your inner thigh, the pinch of pain making you hiss. “I’m gonna enjoy breakin’ this little mind till it only wants me.”
WHEN I CATCH YOU RICKY
RICKY WHEN I CATCH YOUUUU
