Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

I Should Be Dead	By : Alice_Jones Category: +A through F > Five Nights at Freddys Views: 1499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's, nor any of the characters from said franchise. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
I woke with a smile, remembering Scott and Jeannette, so soft, so easy. I stretched, and looked at the window. About midday. I got up, and went downstairs, and laughed long and hard when I found a note from Scott. He was thanking me for a good time. What a fucking moron. But I'll admit he could grow on me. That response from him, the response that took some effort from me... it was hot. He wasn't bad looking, either, just very emotional. He had some feelins, my Scott. I laughed my way to the empty waste basket, and tossed his note in. A good time it was, though. I picked up the checks and left to go to work.
I walked into a storm of children, and was relieved when nothing stirred in me. Crowds of kids rarely got a reaction. It was when they were alone that my voices would rise. Father, you bloody monster. But then, what would that make me? His other creations, the ones in my restaurant, watched me enter, but they always did. They were designed to scan everyone. I nodded at them in greeting, then at Jeremy, and passed him to the staffroom, sighing as I passed the lunchroom. Too bad Scott didn't work today. I "clocked in" to keep up appearances, and went to the cameras to get the feel of the day. As I watched the screens, my mind drifted back to Susan. Had she been in me the whole time? Did that mean she had been in Baby that whole time? From the time Baby grabbed her and stuffed her in her holding chamber? A horrible joke on father, if true, and I would have to let him know, just to see his pain. A vicious smile bloomed. Even if it wasn't true, I decided I would tell him that. The bloody wanker. If he wasn't so wracked with guilt over his lost children, I would have killed him a few years ago. But as he was, he was far from happy. A growl rose in me, and I shook it off, blinking at the screens to refocus myself. Chica was staring at me through the camera again while she sang onstage.
I stared back intently, waiting for her to look away, then "Vince!" from a little down the hallway. I jumped and turned, glaring at Jeremy, who was just entering the room, and laughing.
"What."
"There's a customer with a complaint," he sputtered when he was done laughing. I narrowed my eyes, thinking I might put this future corpse on night shift for a week, and see how that treats him.
"You're trained to handle complaints" I said.
"I think you're gonnna wanna deal with this one," he replied with a grin, so I got up and followed him.
Oh, I see. She was smokin hot. Stunning. No way she could be one of these cake-holes' mother. I threw her my best smile, and pulled out my poshest accent. "What can I do for you?"
She smiled nervously, and shrugged, "Well I guess it's a little silly, really, but your 'no ice cream' policy..." My face froze, smile intact, "I don't understand. We brought a gallon of it, and it's sitting in my car, about to melt. I don't see why we can't bring it in, as long as we're careful." She turned her own smile on me now accompanied by a full and helpless shrug, sure it would do the trick.
But it was one of those things that made my skin crawl. Thank you Baby. "I'm very sorry about your icecream melting. I hope it doesn't get on the seats. You can't get that out. But unfortunately our policy has no exceptions. Even for you. If even a drop got on our mechanics, it could be truly disastrous. What I can do for you is this. We can go out to your car, and I'll take it and put it in the freezer in our lunchroom. You can come see me when your party's over, and that way it won't go to waste."
I had given her one option, so she took it, and we went to get her icecream. She passed it to me with all her charm missing. I took it delicately in one arm. Don't worry, you're not going to be scooped by anyone, and I ridiculously patted it in reassurance. I walked it to the back room, and out the door to my car. This wasn't the first gallon of icecream I've "rescued". And I'm fully aware of how stupid it is, but it made me happy, and it would usually smother my Funtime friends in a weird fascinated quiet. I drove it home, and took it to the basement where I had a few deep freezes full of icecream that would never know the Scoop.
The next day I found Scott's car as I pulled into work, and wondered what I would do with him now. I passed the watching animatronics and went to the lunchroom, and he saw me instantly. He had been watching the door. He jumped a little as I walked in, and I beamed at him, letting my eyes glow intensely. He looked down quickly. "Morning Scott."
"Gd mrning" he mumbled with frozen muscles. So. Shame was the chosen reaction, was it? I could work with that. I leisurely brewed the same cup of tea I did every day, flaunting my ease, and made a few shows of looking him over, like he was a tasty biscuit to go with my cup. He sqirmed under my gaze, but kept his eyes down. What a wreck. I laughed, "Poor Scott" as I left the room to get the party room ready for the day.
A few hours later, when the place was filled with kids and noise, he must have worked up the courage, because he approached me. I was amazed at his show, and he leaned in close to hiss, "You drugged me!"
I blinked at him in innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about. I can't even believe you'd accuse me of something so vile." His mouth fell open in shock over such a blatant lie. "Scott, are you trying to hurt me? After what we shared?" I broke eye contact, looking at the oblivious crowd of customers. "Guys like you are the reason I never do things like - like what we did. I should have known you were one of them." And I walked away, keeping my face smooth. He stood there, working it out in his mind. Was he wrong? Was he a prick, too? It would have been easy to laugh then, but I didn't; I just threw hurt looks at him now and then, to get a look at his puzzled face. God, how stupid was he?
I could feel my innards getting bored of this, of him and the crowded room, so I defiantly focused more on my actual work. I worked the room, thanking people for chosing Freddy Fazbear's, and passing out plush toys to birthday kids. It pleased me in a petty way to tease my mechanical occupants. I am my master, I would growl inwardly, sometimes.
One of the mothers, ring still on her finger, gave me her number on a piece of paper. Now, this happens often enough, but I threw what looked like a sullen glance at Scott. He was watching, so I turned my look to defiance, and put the note in my pocket, thanking her with a shy smile. He looked away. Her brown eyes made me feel like overplaying my hand, so I asked her when her party was over.
"Oh, we just got here. It's going to be at least an hour, yet." She rolled her eyes at the prospect.
"You know, there's a quiet room in the back where you could rest your ears," I said as shyly as I know how.
Her breath caught, and she blushed, looking at the brats that never saw her. They were all looking at the stage, as well as the other mothers who were here as chauffeurs. She gave a nervously quick smile and with bright excited eyes, said, "OK."
I led her to the back without a glance at my target, into the safe room even he didn't know about. The door was hidden, so when I shut it, there was no way he could storm in. I immediately started sucking on her face, showing her an earnest desire that made her moan before I had even touched any other part of her. Then I put on hand up her top and played with her breasts through her braw, kneading, then pinching the nipples that had stiffened in response. She giggled hotly, feeling very much like a bad girl, then I moved a hand to her thigh, and stroked my way up her skirt, to her wet panties. She sighed in eagerness, and pushed her pussy against my fingers. I pushed the crotch of her panties aside, and worked her lips, insistent and needful strokes that made her rock her hips in time. When she started to gasp, I guided her to the desk and lifted her onto it, getting between her legs. She pulled my face to hers, and put a slim pale hand on my member to guide it in. She was soaked, and groaned fervently as I slid deep into her. Then she pulled herself to me, put her head in my chest, and met my rythm.
I could look past her while I pumped, to the spring suits that lay one the ground behind the desk, neglected by everyone but me. I was the only one who had used them in years. She wasn't the first person I had brought back here for a quick lay next to those suits. They excited me far more than any warm compliant body beneath me enveloping my cock ever could. My thrusts grew in force, moving the desk and getting louder cries from her. She dug her nails into my arms, and arched her back, so I sped up. I rushed my face to her bouncing tits, and sucked hard on her nipples. I played with them between my teeth until she came, hot and wet; her pussy pulsed around me, and her legs tensed, and then she went near limp.
I kissed her neck and kept up slow shallow strokes inside her until she caught her breath. Then I kissed my way to her ear to whipser, "Now get on your knees and take me in your mouth." She murmured in agreement, then lowered herself, going right for it. Her grip was firm and moved with her hot mouth, and she looked up at me like one who'd been taught to. I kept my hands off her head, and on the desk behind her while she made little sucking sounds that sparked in me, and I began wishing I had left the door slightly open, just so Scott could see how it was done. But no, and I began stroking her labouring face, when I was done with Scott, he would be one of the best little cocksuckers out there. Not that he'd be much use to anyone else by then. I smiled and a satisfied sigh went through my nose, while I started to pound her face, cupping the back of her head so it wouldn't hit the desk, and she knew, so she started to add some suction into the mix. Just right. She never stopped offering me her eyes, and I soon came, holding her head close to get it all in her. Then I sighed as I pulled out of her mouth.
She smiled, all shy again, and I helped her to her feet. I listened at the door, but Scott would probably still be in the party room. So dutiful. Such a good boy. I led her to the lunchroom and handed her a towel. She straighened herself, and we went back to the noise, where Foxy was the center of attention. Scott was at a table, helping some kids with crafts, because he's a cheese ball, and a passive agressive little twat, and he glared at us as we parted. I shrugged and stared back until he looked away, confused. I watched her as little as their party drew to a close, and I watched her tell a friend what we'd done. I knew because of the glances they threw me. The things women will tell eachother. When they were leaving, she came up to me, making her confidant giggle discreetly, and whispered, "call me."
"I'll do that," I assured her, with a curl to my barely parted lips that said I was enamoured. Then she gathered up her little brat and left with the others.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

I Should Be Dead