Four Stories Down | By : anacsadder Category: +S through Z > Super Mario Brothers Views: 2795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Mario or any of the associated characters, and I make no money from writing this. |
Wario had been in his office all evening. Waluigi lingered in the kitchen nervously, watching the clock hands glide smoothly onto 6:30 pm. What was he supposed to do? Wario hated it when Waluigi interrupted his work, but he hated it more when dinner was late. A narrow hand rubbed absently at a fresh bruise on his near-visible ribs as he fretted over his predicament. Finally, he collected the plates of food onto a covered tray and headed up to Wario’s office.
He swallowed and rasied a trembling fist to the door. He tapped quickly and then cringed back, as though Wario would come flying out screaming at him.
”What?” The deep voice snapped from beyond the massive, gold leafed doors.
”Um… Room service?” Waluigi secretly hoped Wario would tell him to buzz off, but luck was not on his side.
There was a pause, and then, “Door’s not locked.”
Waluigi shoved it open a crack and slipped through uncertainly. Wario sat behind his desk staring at his laptop. His face wore a rotten grin. Waluigi shuddered, though he’d trained himself to shudder imperceptibly at this point. To think the citizens of Mushroom Kingdom thought Waluigi was the creepy one. They just didn’t know Wario well enough.
Wario’s beady eyes shifted to meet his cohort’s eyes. “Bring it here,” he said, gesturing with one finger.
Waluigi hunched his shoulders and crossed the room. It wasn’t as simple as possessing horrible posture. He was just habitually poised to bolt at any moment. He was also half convinced that Wario resented him for his height. Either way, the posture he’d adopted was a defense mechanism.
The slimy smile widened with each step. “Put it on the desk.”
Waluigi obeyed. Before he could withdraw his hands, Wario grabbed one of his wrists and nearly yanked him across the desk. After a second or two of inspection Wario said, “You have hands like a woman.”
Waluigi jerked his hand away and crossed his arms behind his back. “Can I do anything else?” He asked, studying his shoes.
”I want to borrow your hands for a while.”
Waluigi flinched but didn’t lift his head. “I don’t like doing that. It’s weird.”
”What’s weird is that I let some beanpole hobo crash in my house for free,” Wario growled. His chewed, dirty nails drummed pointedly on the desk.
Free my ass, Waluigi wanted to say,I do everything for you, you lazy jerk. But he just stood there.
”Don’t think I can’t replace you in a heartbeat. You’re nothing without me, and you’re only useful ‘cause you do what I say.”
”It hurts,” Waluigi finally whispered.
”So does getting kicked out on your ass.”
Without looking up, Waluigi slunk around to the other side desk. He ignored the porn on the computer monitor as he crawled under the furniture. His height made for an awkward fit, but he could fold his limbs with skill that a yoga trainer would envy. This was something Wario derived endless amusement from.
The head of a regrettably familiar cock rose from the folds of hairy thigh flab. Wario’s erection glistened with the garlic butter he liked to use as lubricant. And people wondered why Waluigi had no appetite…
Waluigi grimaced as he pulled off his glove and wrapped his long, slender digits around the member’s considerable girth. Like the man himself, Wario’s dick was shorter than average, but hefty as fuck. All things considered, anyway.
”Always good with your hands…” Wario purred.
Compliments were rare, but they were never anything Waluigi wanted to hear. He flinched and turned his attention to picking out familiar shapes in the wood grain around him. It was hard to see in the dimmer light, but he found the koopa. The angry sun. The mushroom. He couldn’t tune out the sounds from the laptop completely, though.
Some twenty-year-old twat tried to talk like a little girl. “Mister, I don’t think that goes there.”
Waluigi shuddered. Why did he have to get picked up by such a creep? Of all the houses to stumble across…
”Mm, look at that tight ass,” Wario groaned.
The sound of objects moving around on the desk reached Waluigi’s ears. He gritted his teeth and massaged Wario’s cock harder. Faster. With both hands. Maybe if he could finish him before…
A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out from under the desk. He couldn’t resist. Wario was much stronger than him. “Wait! Let me-“
“No talking! I’ve told you.” Wario stood on the chair and hauled Waluigi to his feet. “I don’t wanna hear your stupid voice.” He slammed him belly down across the spot he’d cleared on the desk.
Beefy hands yanked the black overall straps off the narrow shoulders. Waluigi quivered in awful anticipation, but he let Wario do it, neither helping nor struggling. Wario was short but mean. And powerful. He’d already snapped Waluigi’s arm once before. It was better to let Wario yank his clothes down around his knees; better to let Wario pull one cheek aside and pour that disgusting melted butter down his crack. At least Wario wasn’t simply jamming in like he did when he was in a hurry.
”Don’t move,” Wario commanded.
A weight settled onto Waluigi’s back, balanced on the subtle protrusions of his shoulder blades. The bottom was warm, hard plastic. The laptop. It rocked slightly as Wario touched the keyboard, and then the sounds from the video resumed.
Even as his back tensed to stabilize the machine, Waluigi tried to relax. There was pressure against his asshole. Then a strange, almost not-quite unpleasant sort of tickling sensation accompanied the first, barest hint of penetration. But it never lasted. The pressure increased to a strained, tearing pain as Wario’s girth filled him with an abrupt, oily ‘pop.’ Waluigi bit back a hiss as his bowels twitched. Still not used to it. Maybe next time.
He brought his elbows up behind him to grip the laptop as Wario started his lazy, uneven grind. Waluigi secretly hoped the chair would slip and dump the little troll on his fat ass some day, but as of yet he hadn’t experienced the satisfaction. Wario would probably find a way to blame Waluigi for it, though. That might not be worth it.
”Look at you lovin that cock,” Wario growled. Thick fingers dug into boney hips as his thighs slapped noisily against Waluigi’s hindquarters. “Not so tight and innocent anymore, are you?”
Waluigi pressed his forehead against the cooling oak under him. He knew Wario was talking to the woman in the video. For all the harassment the other man put him through, Waluigi may as well have been another one of the bastard’s inert possessions. A pair of hands so the lazy fuck didn’t have to jerk himself off. A warm place for Wario’s dick when jerking off didn’t cut it. Wario never tired of telling Waluigi that he had an ass like a twelve-year-old girl.
The pain built until Waluigi’s eyes watered with the effort of repressing it. He was afraid to breathe, lest he accidently make a noise. Another problem with Wario’s disgusting food fetish--garlic butter made horrible lubricant. It never took long for each thrust to start burning. Waluigi didn’t dare bring it up, though. If Wario had to keep stopping to punch him for making noise, they’d never be done.
”Hey,” Wario barked, and Waluigi knew that tone meant Wario was addressing him. “Quit squirming. This laptop was expensive.” Then Wario started with the fucking again, grumbling an insult that Waluigi didn’t bother to hear.
Nor did he pay any unnecessary attention to the rising moans and grunts of the man behind him. Waluigi would’ve covered his ears if he weren’t balancing the oh-so-precious computer he didn’t dare drop even the six inches to the desk. The feeling of Wario’s balls twitching and contracting between his butt cheeks as Wario shove in as deep as he could was nauseating enough without the auditory enhancement.
He could almost relax as Wario’s flaccid cock finally withdrew, but he didn’t stand up. He waited for Wario to move the laptop. And waited. The seconds stretched on and he began to grow nervous again. In those seconds he heard the chair move. He heard Wario getting dressed. He heard a drawer open and shut.
THWACK!
Waluigi jumped and cried out as something stung his balls. It had felt like a rubber band. He heard the other man’s gravely laugh.
”Twice for flinching,” Wario crowed and twanged Waluigi’s nuts again.
Waluigi choked back a whimper. It was fucking humiliating. He wanted to throttle the disgusting little shit, but he never could take Wario in a fair fight. Last time he’d tried to get a more covert sort of revenge, Wario had broken a chair across his back. Waluigi stopped trying after that.
Finally, he felt the weight lift off him. “Not bad,” Wario chuckled. “I was sure you’d drop it.”
Waluigi crumpled into a ball as he stooped to pull up his overalls. He didn’t want Wario to see the moisture standing in the corners of his eyes. He also resisted the urge to cradle is aching testicles. The fucking bastard! The worry was unnecessary, though, for Wario paid him no more mind as the lanky giant slunk out of the office.
Waluigi went straight to his room. It was a small space on the same level of the house as the attic, but he had his own toilet, sink, and shower stall up there. The medicine cabinet contained only two things. They were things Waluigi considered integral to maintaining his sanity. A bottle of ipecac and a box of laxatives.
Most of Mushroom Kingdom thought Waluigi was bulimic. That suited him just fine. It was better than spreading the truth; that it made him absolutely sick to have his abusive roommate’s semen in him any longer than necessary. Especially since Wario liked to tell everyone they were brothers. Waluigi wasn’t about to try to explain any of this to anyone.
He swallowed a laxative and got in the shower. He scrubbed until he couldn’t feel Wario’s sweaty gut against his lower back anymore. By then he could get out and unload every last drop of the violation’s essence down the white porcelain drain. When he felt completely hollow inside, he knew he would finally be okay. For a while. He always felt strangely calm in the post cleansing-ritual moments. His hands still trembled as the nerves responded to subconscious impulses from his brain, but on the surface he felt empty and still.
He fished a bottle of cough syrup out from under his dingy mattress and found the handful of cigarettes he kept in an old shoe. With his free hand, he stuck one in his mouth and then pulled a match out from behind a pointy ear. His thumb struck it with practiced precision and he brought the resulting flame to the paper stick protruding from his lips. He filled his emptiness to bursting with the smoke and toxins before releasing it all in a shaky sigh.
Still naked and wet, he crossed the small room. The window was already open. His fingers flicked the spent match into the dark garden below as his eyes followed curls of smoke into the sky. Wario hated it when Waluigi ‘stunk up the house’ with his ‘nasty habit.’ Waluigi snorted and more smoke billowed from his beak of a nose in a spiteful puff.
Asshole.
The moon smiled its lopsided grin at him. It knew he still smoked. It would never tell. He smirked back at it.
The room behind him was dark save for the light leaking around the cracked bathroom door. He had a fantastic view of the sky out here, away from the light pollution in the more densely populated areas of Mushroom Kingdom. On clear, crisp nights like this he could see for miles. The town glittered on the horizon. Warm lights blazed happily in several of the castle’s windows.
Waluigi sat in the window frame and wedged one foot against the opposite side. The cold numbed him until he was able to ignore the fading pain of the assault. He opened the bottle of cough medicine and settled in to watch as the castle lights blinked out one by one. The bottle was a quarter gone when he finished his cigarette and chucked it into the void below the window.
He wondered how far it was to Sarassaland from here. The weather was supposed to be much warmer there, and sunnier if Princess Daisy’s delicate tan was any indication. The night sky was probably ten times more beautiful over the desert.
Four stories down the trellis isn’t that far. Wario wouldn’t even look for me, I bet.
But Sarassaland is so far away… And what would I do when I got there? Daisy hates me. No surprise.
The only one keeping me here is me. I could leave. I could leave whenever I wanted.
But it’s so lonely and cold out there. At least here I won’t starve.
About halfway through the bottle of cough syrup his aching eyes found the town again. It was easy to reach Mushroom Kingdom from here. Mario and Luigi might help if they knew the truth, but he didn’t want their pity. Luigi’s fear of him was the only thing his ego had left. He’d rather die than let Luigi pity him.
And three fourths of the way through the bottle, Waluigi thought about leaving the window again. But maybe he wouldn’t use the trellis after all. Maybe he’d… just… go…
But as he gulped the last of the syrup down, he decided it would be easier to go to bed. He didn’t want to give Wario the satisfaction of driving him over the edge, anyway. He might still win one day. Might yet live to see the fatass fall off the chair.
That night, as on many others, Waluigi passed out on the floor somewhere between his mattress and the open window.
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