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At His Service, Of Course	By : Darkrogue Category: +A through F > Brain Dead 13 Views: 9633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Brain Dead 13 or the characters involved, and I ain’t making any money, here. Apologies to the creators for this holocaust of wrong. Here be squicky material, so be ye warned.

Chapter List
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“Here ya are, good as new!”
Fritz looked up as Vivi returned and tossed Lance over like a damp towel. Moose caught him easily. Dumping his shoes and hat in Fritz’s arms, she ushered them out.
“Ya’ll come back, now.”
Slam!
And she was gone.
Moose flung the human over a shoulder like a sack of corn, and together they took him back.
For some time Fritz watched him, now shackled to that ball and sleeping like an infant. He looked pale, anemic, and Fritz could tell the bitch had fed from him. Only a little, but enough to weaken him. He’d suspected she’d do it, and yet for some reason, an odd jealous rage bubbled in Fritz’s thoughts, making him growl with anger.
Grrr…his human!
Some time later Lance woke with a groan. Again he felt the wooden floor beneath him and shifted. Hazily the events of the last few hours returned.
Did that…really happen? He glanced down, felt his wrist where those painful, twin punctures indeed remained.
That was the most humiliating experience he’d ever had with a woman! Not that he’d had many, but this…!
His shoes and hat were gone now, the last of his identifying garments finally stripped away. But he could feel the clamp of cold steel at his skinny ankle, that ball and chain fettering him down. He stood, his stiff limbs surprisingly soothed from his bath and Vivi’s ministrations. He almost felt like himself again! And now, unsupervised with his arms free, he might just be able to find a way outta this joint!
Ha! Grinning, he glanced around the room. That staircase was the only way out beyond those windows, and who knew how many stories high he was? No way he could haul this ball and chain up those stairs. But there were other things resting in the recesses of this chamber: a butter churner, a spinning wheel, mop and bucket. What was all this junk for? There must be something he could employ as a weapon, something he might use to subdue that freak and then rifle his arsenal for a key, a file, a knife, or something with which he might cut the chain or even pick the lock on his fetters and free himself.
With much effort he limped across the floor, dragging that heavy ball. He’d only got as far as the mop bucket when the door above burst open and there stood a disapproving Fritz.
Not this time!
Seizing the handle, Lance flung the dripping mop from its bucket and faced his foe, who sized him up like an angry bull.
“Hey! Snotgoblin!” He taunted. “Bite me!”
Fritz launched at him, hooks high. Planting his feet, Lance swung. His mop caught the flying imp across the face, wet threads wrapping around his jutting jaw with a sloppy slap. Tumbling to the ground, Fritz bounced like a plucked turkey. He sat stunned, filthy mopwater oozing down his dumbfounded face.
Lance’s hooting laughter rang into the rafters.
Recovering, Fritz spun to his feet and snarled. From his vest he whisked a sharp hatchet, and in two bounds he crossed the distance, taking Lance off-guard and cutting his amusement short.
“Yaa!” Lance retreated and steadied, wielding that mop like a staff. But he didn’t expect Fritz to pounce on him, knocking him back and making him clumsily trip over his own ball and chain. He stumbled, tumbling over that ball, his back striking the wooden floor.
“Ooof!”
Gahh! Lance, you klutz!
Chains rattled as he fell. He thrust the mop forward in defense, but Fritz’s hatchet swung once, twice, reducing his makeshift weapon to worthless stumps.
“Ah!” Lance fell back, severed bits clattering from between his hands as the hunchback settled on his chest, pinning him down.
Umm…
Awkwardly Lance grinned, a grin Fritz didn’t return. Tossing the hatchet aside, Fritz caught both his wrists in the arcs of his hooks, forcing him to drop the useless tubes of wood that remained of his improvised weapon. Lunging forward, Fritz pinned his wrists to the floor at his shoulders, placing his face just inches above his own.
A strained moment, and yellow monster bulbs met green human eyes: a challenge between furious predator and defiant prey.
Fritz shifted, hooked Lance’s knees until they lay bent and pressed to his chest. The imp glared, steaming with anger that this brazen ass would dare attack him.
Grrr…
Should our fool overstep his limits in the slightest, Fritz…you will terminate him immediately.
He grinned. Kill him. Kill him now, and feast on his flesh…
Sharp teeth closed on a shoulder, drawing blood. Lance gasped and cried out, his back arching off the wooden floor. Fists clenched and head fell back, spilling red locks on wood like mermaid’s tresses.
Biting harder, Fritz felt flesh give and break, felt the body beneath him tense.
“Ahhh-haa…” Lance had fallen still, quivering. Helpless, he grimaced at the shocking and painful sensation of his skin pierced.
Fritz lapped at the warm life fluid, drinking in sweet copper. At the contact he heard the human’s fearful whimper, felt him wince.
He would devour him now. But before he died, he would suffer one final defeat…
Lance strained, pinned under Fritz’s surprising weight, his hands trapped between wood and the bends of those hooks. That chain fettered his ankle, now thrust up with his legs, bent froglike against him. His heart thudded in his rising, falling chest, and as Fritz’s evil grin fell over him, he knew what was coming.
Oh, not again…
Arms slid into the crooks of his knees, rolled him back. Fritz glared down the human, trembling and powerless and spread like a clam beneath him.
Lance’s position left his tender assring helplessly exposed, and he watched with dread as that red tongue slithered out, jabbed and squirmed inside.
Wincing, Lance gasped, mortified as that thing once more snaked up his raw and quivering chute.
“Unh…” he whimpered, eyes clenched tight and teeth pressed together as the wet muscle wiggled and thrust, streams of drool flooding his innards. After a few moments Fritz withdrew with a slurp. A dark and possessive zeal came over him, and removing his weapon, he sank inside the open, vulnerable passage. The once-defeated channel yielded more easily this time, as if acknowledging the rightful entry of its previous conqueror.
“Oohh!” Lance cringed, helpless with his knees hugged to his shoulders, Fritz’s weight on his belly. Sore flesh surrendered and parted, and Fritz took territory previously claimed and devastated.
Pain.
Fritz pressed against him, pinning him between stiff cock and the floor, those hooks imprisoning his wrists to wooden planks. Yellow eyes bearing down, he thrust, feeling the hot silken canal submit and spread for him. Still feeling the sting of that mop to the face, Fritz snarled and filled the human beneath him with a skewering lunge.
Take him. Yes, make him pay the price for his rebellion.
Lance moaned at the rough penetration, jolted as the burn from his sore sphincter and tender passage exploded and flowed through his stomach, out to his limbs. Uselessly his arms tightened, his chest rising off the floor, and some strange flowering buzz blossomed in his belly.
Fritz watched his unwilling partner’s face. A quick, harsh series of thrusts reduced his prisoner to whimpers, and Lance’s lips parted and grimaced in response to the rocking strokes.
Take him!
But at some point the human’s neck curved up, and his head rose until his strained features hovered inches from Fritz’s maddened face. Suddenly Lance’s expression shifted. His lips curled to a lopsided smirk. Green eyes narrowed.
“That all ya got, freak?”
Fritz paused, almost stopped. What was this?
That damnable sneer had returned. A confusing, incredible challenge twinkled in the grinning human’s eyes. Leering, Fritz rewarded his defiance with a forceful thrust, mashing innards. Seeing Lance wince, he doubled his efforts, mustering deep, gut-wrecking strokes that resulted in high whines and answering shudders from the human’s hot, silky depths.
Lance cringed, feeling his body respond to the terrible assault with electric thrills that crackled from his prostate, swirled through his belly and spun up his spine. A storm of broken thoughts whirled in his mind.
Well, you had it coming, didn’cha, Lance? Yeah. He’d attacked his jailor, after all, and now he was paying for it. But at once his former spirit revived and soared. Let the freak ravish and plunder him! He wouldn’t have the satisfaction of breaking him! Hell, no. Match his aggression mano-a-mano! But…God, what was happening to him?
The defiant sparkle in those green eyes ignited something fierce in Fritz’s simple mind. Hurt…him. Break…him. Destroy…him! He unleashed a frenzied assault, his own thoughts floating somewhere above them. And beneath the sound pounding, he felt his rival’s knees part, hips squirm, inner human warmth massaging his throbbing shaft.
“Ahhh!” Lance panted. This was not sex: it was punishment, a painful, bruising fuck that devastated his skin, battered his guts. Leaning forward, he caught a pinning arm in his teeth. Fritz glared back into intense green eyes, locked on his own yellow bulbs. The human’s teeth were bared, his breath hissing through them as he snarled, at once more animal than man.
A monster. Like him.
Fritz tore his arm free of that feeble human bite and bore down with a vengeance, driving his thick and swollen length deep and eliciting a painful groan as speared intestines surrendered.
And Lance felt him, so deep he ached. Dizzy, he heard his own crooning cries as if from behind a veil of fog, and knew his keening hollers were driving his foe. His limbs quivered, his head fell back, those thrusts rocking him to a strange and nameless rapture.
“Oh…oh…oh…” His breath quickened, his whimpers grew thin. His heart raced, his body weakened and his blood felt like water. Defeated, he capitulated to the friction between them. Fritz’s body against his abdomen massaged his own stiff cock, that plundering thickness searing his raw passage, plunging, withdrawing and plunging back like a piston splitting his tender innards. Fire swelled from his ass and guts and stretched to his belly, lacing up his limbs like choking vines, all channeled back to his throbbing sex, his churning balls.
Lightheaded, Lance knew only the muffled sounds of his own gasping whines and the terrible, thrilling pain of the cock splitting and filling him. His stomach coiled and his limbs tightened, his thoughts spiraling upward on a thin stream. Fingers curled, nails drawing blood to the palms of his trapped fists. And his eyes squeezed until all he saw were colors dancing on blackness.
“Yaaahhhh!” A crippling tremor seized his helpless form, and his last shred of awareness was of the eruption of his climax, warm and wet on his straining stomach.
Fritz felt the ripple of completion rock his partner and spasm through the warm channel hugging his own stiff cock. Massaged by the man’s gripping passage, he growled and flooded tight, slick bowels with the force of his peak.
At length Fritz drifted back to his surroundings. He felt the cooling, sticky result of the human’s release between them, pooled in his prisoner’s naval. And that insolent, clownish man pinned under him now lay limp and silent.
Fritz paused, looking down in an odd moment of alarm. Had he killed the fool?
He rose, withdrew. Hooks freed wrists and he hopped aside. The human’s knees relaxed, and his legs rolled aside to rest on the floor in a soft clink of chain.
Fritz leaned over him with a strange tide of concern. One hook went to his mouth, yellow eyes worriedly studying the lanky form.
He was breathing. The man had fainted, knocked unconscious by his own climax. He slept soundly with deep, slow breaths, lashes resting on his cheeks.
Fritz considered the sleeping young man. Time to do as he’d planned…
His maw opened and moved toward the shoulder where blood still flowed.
And then he stopped.
Hmm. A knife and fork would make this less messy.
Maybe a bib.
Fritz thought, then shook his head. His heart wasn’t in it. He guessed he just wasn’t hungry anymore.
In his hooks Fritz scooped up strands of full, rich auburn. His eyes rolled over lean muscles, prominent nose. Once so cocky and confident, this smug, cocksure young human who had swaggered into his life and thought himself so clever now seemed so beautifully quiet and serene…
A thundering snore ripped Fritz from his thoughts.
So much for the ‘quiet’ part.
Fritz tried to ignore it, his eyes scanning the human before him. There was a strange charm in this lanky red-maned beast, after all. A beautiful catch, this one, even with his thin bones, skinny wrists, large, well-built hands that worked so skillfully to fix small things…
On the snoring went, like a freight train. Snarling, Fritz considered stuffing something in his big mouth to shut him up.
No. Let him sleep.
But he couldn’t trust him. His wandering, his defiance with the mop had proven that. He’d call Moose, have him bind the fool back in his ropes. And then…well, who knew?
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At His Service, Of Course