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Pugsley slumped back against the wall of the Hummer’s shed, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other absently tossed Slurp some food.
“Cramps… loneliness… humiliation… the holy trinity,” he muttered, watching the zombie gnaw messily at his treat. “Even in my family, at this school… I’m still the weird one. Not fitting in with other outcasts.”
Slurp’s chains rattled as he shifted closer. Pugsley flicked a little zap his way—not enough to hurt, just to keep him at bay. “Back, Slurp. I’m complaining, and you’re not helping.”
But Slurp only groaned low, dragging himself forward once more, hunger written in every twitch. His jaw hung open, drool spilling from it and dripping past his chin, pupils dilated as if every ounce of instinct honed in on one singular, intoxicating scent.
Slurp lurched again, jaw snapping as he tried to get a taste of what he was searching for. Pugsley zapped him again, another warning. This time, Slurp barely flinched, his whole body straining against the chain, desperate, trembling like the hungry beast he was.
“Not even you listen to me,” Pugsley sighed, exasperated. “You just want—”
The chain snapped with a violent crack.
Slurp lunged, knocking him flat to the sticky wooden floor. Hot, fried breath washed over him as the zombie clawed at him, mouth pressed close, mindless with need. His hands were everywhere, grasping frantically, trying to tear into Pugsley’s clothes to get what he craved.
“Oh!” Pugsley squeaked, eyes wide, caught between shock and recognition, then his mouth quirked into something crooked and amused.
“That’s what you want,” he rasped, tilting back to give himself more room. “Alright… go on. Take what you need.”
Pugsley’s fingers hovered over the waistband of his shorts, fumbling as though it might make it easier for him. But before he could tug them down, Slurp moved—with no hesitation, no thought, just pure hunger. The zombie lunged, hands tearing through fabric with raw desperation to reach this treat. It made Pugsley’s breath hitch.
A chorus of threads snapped, coming away from the garment and Pugsley’s body. Finally, there was nothing in Slurp’s way that he could reach the tantalizing scent he was hungering for. Growling low and triumphant, the sound vibrated against Pugsley’s skin as his mouth pressed hard and greedily against the feast he’d been denied.
Pugsley’s laugh came out jagged, half a gasp, half something darker. “Impatient bastard…”
Slurp’s tongue dragged hungrily around the mess of blood smeared across Pugsley’s folds, lapping it up with obscene, wet sounds. Each swipe was greedy, not letting a single drop escape; he couldn’t let it go to waste. Then, with a guttural noise, he shoved his tongue inside, absurdly long and writhing, scooping deep like he meant to drink him dry.
Pugsley jolted, a strangled gasp breaking free from the sudden intrusion, being stretched and filled in ways he wasn’t prepared for. Slurp didn’t stop or slow for a second—just plunging deeper, tongue twisting and curling with frantic, starving intent, gathering all the sweet nectar he could from Pugsley. When his teeth grazed over soft flesh in his frenzy, the sharp, tantalizing scrape made Pugsley shudder—a bolt of pain tangled with savory pleasure coursing through him.
But Slurp wasn’t satisfied. If anything, the longer he fed, the more desperate he became. His tongue shoved deeper, curling back to lap at the mess before plunging in again, each movement frantic and sloppy. Chains rattled violently with his thrashing, but he didn’t care—all that mattered was partaking in the feast lying sweetly right in front of him.
Pugsley’s back arched hard, a cry tearing from his throat, sparks flickering uncontrollably off his knuckles. The overstimulation was immediate, brutal, leaving his body trembling with raw, unrelenting intensity. But Slurp was insatiable. Every time Pugsley thought he’d been emptied out and wrung dry, he plunged right back inside, another thrust, another curl from that wet, slick tongue dragging him back to the edge. Heat crashed over him in continuous, violent waves until his moans became broken, his laughter delirious, his body twitching helplessly on the floor.
“Slurp! – ngh, stop, I can’t! –” he tried to call out, but his protest dissolved into another choked gasp when sharp teeth grazed over his sensitive folds again, pain sparking bright against unbearable pleasure. His thighs shook violently, stomach clenching as another orgasm ripped through him, unbidden and merciless.
Pugsley clutched at the chains rattling against Slurp’s wrists, trying to anchor himself as his voice broke down into incoherent whimpers. His body was beyond reason, each nerve set alight, overstimulated until he was nothing more than a trembling wreck beneath Slurp’s mouth. And still, the zombie gorged, groaning deep in his throat, as though nothing in this world could outweigh this delicacy.
Pugsley’s eyes rolled back, delirium creeping onto his sharp, crooked grin. “Y-you’ll… just continue until I’m eaten alive, won’t you?” he croaked, laughter bubbling, broken from his lips. Slurp’s only answer was a guttural growl, teeth scraping again harder in a way that made terror and aching want coil hot in Pugsley’s gut.
That was when a strike of reason took over. Fingers twitching, he summoned a crackle of electricity and shoved it sharply against Slurp’s neck. The jolt ripped through the air, sizzling. Slurp jerked back with a strangled noise, startled and frustrated that he had been torn away, tongue ripping away with slick strings of saliva and blood clinging to his mouth.
Pugsley collapsed back, chest heaving, body still twitching from aftershocks, sweat dripping from his face. His grin spread dark and amused, voice hoarse but steady as he rasped.
“Glutton… If I didn’t stop you, you’d strip me to the bone.”