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Waluigi Always Wins	By : anacsadder Category: +S through Z > Super Mario Brothers Views: 6164 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Mario, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Waluigi Always Wins
- 2-Waluigi Always Gets What He Wants
- 1
- 2
A/N: I�d been thinking of transitioning this into another piece related to Waluigi not being in Mario Kart 7. It was temporarily shelved to work on a bunch of Washipping stuff. Since there appears to be some interest in seeing this continued, however, I don�t see any harm in swapping priorities again, if only for a chapter. So this is for you, Arya.
Luigi hadn�t realized how much time he spent in the presence of his doppelganger until the day that being within visual range of him--even just the same building--became physically painful. That day. In the locker room.
When he�d gotten himself to a point where he didn�t feel like he was going to shatter into a million pieces if anyone so much as looked at him, he�d dressed quickly and slipped out a bathroom window. He didn�t see Mario until much later that night, when Luigi had finally decided he had to go home sooner or later. He was exhausted and too scared now to sleep outside by himself. As much as he dreaded seeing anybody he knew, he dreaded isolation even more.
Mario had been waiting up for him in the living room. As soon as he laid on his little brother, an obvious wave of relief flooded through him. �Luigi!�

Before the taller brother could react, Mario had yanked him the sort of hug a parent reserves for a lost child he hasn�t seen in days. Luigi stiffened. Did Mario know? Had he seen or heard something? Could he feel Waluigi�s foul slime on his skin? Despite his best scrubbing, Luigi hadn�t been able to put a dent in the dirt or the smell that clung to each place that horrible man had touched him.
Mario gripped the thin shoulders as he held Luigi at arm�s length. �I was so worried about you! When you and Waluigi disappeared after the game, I thought��
�What?� Luigi tried to hide behind his exhaustion, but his heart raced as he stared down at his brother. Had Mario figured it out? If Mario guessed what had happened, did that count as Luigi tattling? Could Waluigi really hurt him again? So many questions, tumbling over each other in their desperation to be acknowledged.
�Did you get into a fight?� The thick, black eyebrows drew together.
�A fight?� Luigi�s voice shook. It wasn�t fear or the threat of tears, though. It was a badly repressed, unhinged laugh at the surreal absurdity of it all. A fight. Because that�s what they did. They sparred, they traded insults, they competed, and they went their separate ways until the next race or party or sporting event. Never anything truly insidious or terrifying. Of course a fight was the worst thing Mario would ever suspect. Could the kind-hearted hero comprehend anything else? Even Bowser never seriously hurt Peach. Luigi suddenly felt numb. Very numb and very alone. �N-no. No, he, uh��
Mario watched him patiently with eyes full of concern and love. Luigi almost told him. The words were right on the tip of his tongue. But they shriveled and died as soon as he opened his mouth. His mind looped back to Wario. Again. How much had he known? What if Luigi risked everything to tell Mario, and Wario backed up his own brother? The two devious conmen could lie as easily as they could sign their own names.
Besides, it was over now, right? Waluigi had done the horrible thing he�d wanted to do. If Luigi stayed low, threw a few races and tennis matches, maybe things would be okay. Not good, but� bearable.
�I, um, saw him waiting for me outside the locker room. He looked mad, so I snuck out a different way and waited for him to leave. By the time he did, I had to find a janitor to let me back in to get my stuff.�
�Why didn�t you tell me? I could�ve-�
�He already thinks I�m a�--bitch--�wimp. Getting other people to fight my battles would make it worse. I�m sorry I worried you, but it won�t happen again.�
Mario patted Luigi on the shoulder as he heaved a deep sigh. �You�re a good man, Luigi, but you let people walk all over you.�
�I�ll figure it out. I can�t learn to stand up for myself if you won�t let me.� The flare of frustrated almost-anger was real enough to not be a lie. If Mario brought this to Waluigi, even with the cover story, Luigi was now genuinely afraid of what might happen. The hero meant well, but sometimes he didn�t know when to quit.
�I get that, but I want you to know I am here if you need me.�
Luigi nodded and was relieved when Mario finally let him disappear into his room. The first of many nightmares visited him that night.
To make matters worse he still had to see Waluigi all the time. He littered Luigi�s world like a long, dark bruise on his life. Sinister threats tossed across a crowded caf� in the form of a knowing smirk. A looming presence right behind him in line at a store. Luigi dreaded the weekend games now. He didn�t even want to go anymore, but he had to go. He had to keep up appearances. Any slip in behavior might make Mario start asking all the wrong questions, and that was something Luigi couldn�t bear. At least in daylight, surrounded by other people, Waluigi couldn�t actually touch him.
Of course the doppelganger found plenty of more passive aggressive ways to harass his jittery double. Barely two weeks after the Incident Luigi found himself in a position that had up until that point only existed in his worst imagination. Last batter up. Bases loaded. Team behind by one run. Waluigi stared him down from the pitcher�s mound. Luigi could feel the nasty enjoyment radiating off him as his boney hand tapped the ball against his mitt.

�I hope you�re ready to eat my balls, pipsqueak,� Waluigi taunted. Or threatened. It was hard to tell.
Luigi froze. He couldn�t do this.
�Strike one!� The umpire called.
�Choking under pressure, huh?� Waluigi smirked as he caught the ball.
�Come on, Weegee! You got this!� Daisy yelled from the dugout. �Don�t let him psyche you out!�
Luigi glanced at her, feeling a swell of guilt as she cheered her heart out. She had no idea that this interaction had been doomed from the start. He took a swing at the second pitch to make it look good, but he wasn�t the least bit surprised when he heard the second strike called. Luigi tried not to notice when Peach buried her face in her hands and shook her head slowly.
�It�s okay, hun. We can still make this,� Daisy encouraged. �Whack it out of the park!�
That time, Luigi did hit it, well within Waluigi�s reach. And it was over. Just like that. Luigi offered his team a weak shrug as Waluigi broke into one of his irritating celebration dances.

Things only got worse from there. Luigi hadn�t thought that was possible, but the more Waluigi got away with, the bolder the threats and cutting double entendres became. Luigi gave up all hope of Waluigi ever being �finished� with him after the second Incident.

Luigi had been looking forward to the doppelganger-free day. Mario had sensed Luigi�s stress, even if he didn�t know the exact cause. The red brother suggested they forgo the usual group competition for a quiet round of golf. Just a friendly game with the Peach and Daisy. Luigi felt relieved and excited for the first time in a long time.

That was until a bad wind caught his ball and tossed it into a stand of trees twenty feet from the fairway. Groaning, he trudged off into the rough to find it while the other three took their turns. He heard Daisy�s excited whoop and turned to watch as she hugged Peach, hopping up and down. Luigi smiled at her enthusiasm.
�Do you think she knows how much she jiggles when she does that?�
The blood drained from Luigi�s face. As his eyes traveled up the looming tower of a man beside him, a boney hand grabbed the neck of his shirt and yanked him behind the trees. The attacker shoved Luigi�s chest up against the bark and held him there. Luigi thought about screaming until he felt something sharp against the back of his neck. �What are you doing here?�
�Just hitting some balls around,� Waluigi growled in his ear.
Luigi swallowed. �You can�t hurt me.�
�Says who?�
�We�re in the middle of a public place.�
�You think you�re safe?� His voice dropped to a whisper of hot hair that tickled the tiny hairs on the shell of Luigi�s ear. �You�re never safe, eyeballs.�

�What do you want?� Luigi whispered back.

A forearm pinned Luigi at the nape of his neck. Luigi could see the pocket knife now. Wicked sharp, just like everything else about his doppelganger. Waluigi�s free hand grabbed Luigi�s wrist and forced the smaller man to feel the bulge in the crotch of his navy blue overalls.

Luigi flinched, but he couldn�t say he was surprised. �But I never told anybody��
�Good. Then start stroking and I won�t need to hurt you.�

�Luigi!� Daisy�s voice in the distance, getting closer.
�Make her go away,� Waluigi commanded.

�We�re all ready to move on. Have you found it yet?� Daisy continued.
Luigi kept his voice low. �If you don�t leave right now, she�ll see everything.�
�You don�t wanna play chicken with me. You will be alone again.�
�Luigi, can you hear me? I asked if you needed help finding your ball!� Daisy was at the brush line, now.
Luigi shivered, eyes darting side to side as his options flew threw his head. He could make sure he was never alone. They only ever saw each other in public. Waluigi could craft a convincing empty threat, but he wasn�t stupid. He wouldn�t let Daisy catch him in the act. Biting his tongue for courage, Luigi cast a defiant look over his shoulder.
Waluigi frowned, glaring white-hot razor blades at his double. Then he snorted and the expression flipped completely into a thin smile. With a low chuckle, he flipped the knife closed and walked off in the opposite direction.

Luigi kept his eyes glued on the last spot he�d seen the lunatic as he yelled, �I�m here, Daisy!� He couldn�t believe that had worked. Part of him didn�t believe it had worked. That part of him whispered doom and gloom in his head as Daisy helped him find his lost ball. It kept him looking over his shoulder for the rest of the day. Luigi made damn sure not to wander out of sight of the group again. He was sure Waluigi was still lurking in the bushes waiting for him.

It sounded stupid to his rational mind. Waluigi couldn�t possibly put that much time and energy into stalking someone he hated so much and respected so little. He had to have better things to do. The paranoia remained.
When Luigi woke up that night, he thought he was in the grip of another nightmare. He couldn�t role over. His arms and legs were pulled out and restrained by ropes that disappeared under the four corners of his bed. Tugging revealed that his right wrist and his left ankle were both apparently tied to the same line, and vice versa. Pulling the slack in one end only increased tension in the other. His pillow wasn�t under his head anymore. His sheets might have been somewhere else, too, but it was hard to tell. Duct tape crinkled on his lips as he tried to work his mouth open. No dice.
He lifted his head as best he could while restrained on his belly and tried to look around. The room was empty. Fully awake and aware of the air on his bare skin, he knew this wasn�t a dream. Panic rose in him. He glanced at door. Closed. He glanced at his window. Closed. Everything quiet.
Until he heard a doorknob turn. His head snapped back to his door as a spidery shadow slipped through the barely open crack and locked the door behind it. Luigi couldn�t see much until the figure entered the puddle of the light from the window, but he knew its identity without question. It leaned on the tennis racket in its hands like a cane as it crouched down to study him with glinting eyes.
�I don�t want there to be any misunderstanding about why I let you go earlier today,� Waluigi whispered. �Do you understand what I just did?�
Luigi�s fingers picked uselessly at a knot around one of his wrists.
�I broke into your house. I found your bedroom. I tied you up,� Waluigi counted off on his fingers as he spoke.

Luigi noticed he was wearing latex gloves instead of the usual monogrammed cloth gloves. He didn�t like it one bit.
�I went down to your kitchen and found this.� He placed a canister of vegetable shortening on the mattress just where Luigi could see it. �I went to your garage and found this.� His fingers drummed on the top of the tennis racket. �And I came all the way back upstairs again. You know what the best part is?�
Luigi shook his head carefully.
�When I was looking for your room, I found your brother�s room first. I stood over him for all of three seconds, watching him sleep. Snores almost as bad as Wario.� Waluigi leaned closer, a purple light glimmering in his pupils now. �He didn�t bat an eye. He has no idea I�m here. Hell of hero, that one.� The doppelganger laughed quietly.
Luigi only stared. The words washed over him without cementing a whole lot of understanding. He knew Waluigi was boasting about his accomplishments, but the evident deeper meaning the man was trying to convey evaded the smaller man�s madly dashing train of thought. He was naked. Pinned face down. Waluigi was going to do something awful to him again. Beat him with the tennis racket? Not awful enough. Was he going to do the awful thing? Was threatening to tell the same as telling?
�I know that seems like a lot of time and effort when I could�ve just dragged you into the woods. I think this makes a stronger point. There�s nowhere you can hide from me, and Mario can�t protect you. Even in your own house.�
The tall man flipped the tennis racket upside-down, so that the handle pointed at the ceiling. Then he opened the tub of shortening and scooped some out with two fingers. A sadistic grin lit up the pointy face as a horrified understanding dawned in Luigi�s eyes. The bound man shook his head, babbling a string of muffled protests.
�I warned you not to play chicken with me.� Waluigi straightened up and disappeared from Luigi�s line of sight.

The mattress shifted as a sharp knee settled between his thighs. Luigi squirmed and twisted, bucking against the ropes. Slim fingers swiped upwards between his cheeks, leaving a slick trail behind. Luigi buried his face in his mattress and moaned in distress. There was a pause and then something larger and harder slipped into the crack of his ass. Waluigi rubbed the length of the racket handled between the fleshy hills until it too wore a thin layer of the white grease.
Luigi�s pleas rose in volume and desperation. The tip of the rigid rubber and metal pressed against the puckered ring of muscle. It didn�t go in at first. The bottom of the handle was flat--not nearly aerodynamic enough for easy entry. Waluigi shoved harder, eliciting another cry as it finally achieved penetration. Luigi yanked at his wrist restraints trying to crawl away but as before, pulling up on his arms only pulled down on his legs.
His protests evolved into nonsensical whimpers as the cold intrusion crept deeper. His tormentor twisted and wiggled it ever so slightly as it went. Shivers racked the smaller body as much from fear as from pain. The rigid instrument didn�t belong nestled in such delicate tissue. Waluigi might shove too hard or too far. Might tear something. In Luigi�s terrified imagination, he already had.
When the piece of sporting equipment was seated deep in his victim�s rectum, Waluigi shifted to sit on Luigi�s lower back. As the long arms reached forward to untie one of Luigi�s wrists, Luigi felt something hard and slippery against his spine. He made a token effort to free his wrist from the hands pulling it around behind his back, but Waluigi held the superior leverage in this position. All he had to do was reach back and apply pressure to the racket until Luigi relented. It didn�t take long. Those hands forced Luigi to wrap his fingers around the taller man�s erection.
It was already slick with the same lubricant he�d improvised for the tennis racket. An image flashed unbidden in Luigi�s head--the sadistic doppelganger hunched over his back like a predatory animal, eyes sparking with that eerie purple light as he fondled himself to the sounds of Luigi�s pain and distress. Luigi cringed.

No words needed to be exchanged as Luigi wordlessly began doing exactly what Waluigi had wanted him to do in the woods less than twenty-four hours prior. They�d come all the way back around to this. In the end Waluigi got his way and Luigi was worse off for resisting. It twisted his gut into untold balls of just plain sick, but he had no choice anymore. Waluigi hadn�t even tried to stop him from screaming. If Waluigi really didn�t give a shit about the threat of being walked in on, Luigi was truly out of cards.
Besides, the idea of being caught face down naked with a tennis racket sticking out of his ass was just plain humiliating. No one would ever be able to see him the same way again. He would be forever defined by the abuse this monster inflicted upon him.
Waluigi rocked his pelvis against the awkwardly questing fingers. Luigi couldn�t see him, but he could hear him sucking air in through his teeth. He could hear every lustful sigh. He could feel the rocking mattress and the latex-skinned fingers digging into his shoulder. Eventually Waluigi stopped to roll him onto his side.

Luigi flinched as the object in his rear shifted. Waluigi crawled into a position half straddling Luigi�s shoulders. Fingers curled into the sleep frazzled hair on top of Luigi�s scalp. No sooner had he removed the tape over Luigi�s mouth than Luigi felt the rigid, slick flesh against his lips. His resistant whine turned into an open-mouthed cry as Waluigi somehow managed to shove the racket handle deeper still. The cry cut off in a gagging noise as Waluigi instantly took advantage of the opening. Luigi couldn�t move. Even his free arm was pinned under a thin thigh, now. It flailed helplessly for a second or two as Waluigi fucked his throat mercilessly. Once the futility sunk in, Luigi�s concentration quickly shifted to catching breaths when he could.
�Yeah,� Waluigi breathed. �Fuck yeah. Wah� Ah� Ah!� The scrawny body doubled over. A free hand clawed at the mattress while the other dug into the back of Luigi�s head.
Luigi choked and gurgled another protest. Waluigi grinned at him, chuckling breathlessly.

�Oh, no,� he panted. �You�re gonna swallow that.� His cock withdrew, but he clamped a hand over the other man�s mouth.

Luigi screwed up his face. The stuff felt like phlegm and tasted even worse. When he finally managed to let it ooze down this throat--if only to get it off his tongue--he barely avoided vomiting.

His face felt hot and sweaty when his doppelganger finally stood up again. Luigi flopped onto his stomach to alleviate the strain on the arm that remained bound, but it did little to ease his other agonies. His colon still spasmed as it tried to reject the foreign material and his throat burned so that he wondered if he�d be able to speak in the morning. Waluigi tucked himself back into his underwear before finally yanking the tennis racket free, none too gently. Luigi let out a strangled sob as his back arched in shocked pain.

As soon as Waluigi disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, Luigi tentatively felt between his cheeks to make sure Waluigi hadn�t just turned him inside out. It sure as hell hurt like he had. His fingertips came away with a dark red smear on them, but nothing else that he could reach felt wrong. A light went on in the bathroom. Water ran. Luigi couldn�t see anything from this angle. His attention turned to the question of whether he dare attempt to untie himself. The last thing he wanted at this point was to set his doppelganger off again.

Waluigi�s grinning face reappeared kneeling next to the bed. �So I�ll see you at the party next weekend, won�t I.�
Luigi avoided eye contact as he nodded.
�And you�re not gonna make me come to your house anymore, are you.�
Luigi shuddered as he shook his head. He hated himself for even beginning to think the thought but� If he could go back, now� He would�ve just given Waluigi a hand job in the woods. He now understood that it wasn�t the last time that decision would be forced upon him, either. But maybe, maybe if Waluigi didn�t hurt him like this again, he could handle it. Maybe�
Waluigi gathered the ropes and the duct tape gag before he left. Luigi curled into a ball and tried to be invisible while the lanky shadow glided around his room. His abused body refused to sleep. Even after the shadow left through his window.
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Waluigi Always Wins