Work Text:
11:24pm
It was late at night, and you were desperately trying to not fall asleep. You tried every trick in the book, coffee, blue light, watching action movies, reading one of Randals stupid dirty mangas to get you excited and wound up, but despite all that, you could still feel the familiar heavy weight on your eyelids creeping in.
It's not that you had things to do, no, under normal circumstances, you would've happily curled up on the couch as Judge Judy yelled quietly in the background, but ever since Luther brought Sebastian to the vet because Randal kept feeding him worms, Randal had been… restless. Throwing his dolls around the house, bleeding more than usual all over the house, and trying to get you to sleep with him in his coffin since Sebastian was gone, which you declined.
You heard enough horror stories from the young Master's pet about what he tried to do when he thought Sebastain was asleep, the sores, the stains, and the… stickiness?? It was enough to make up your mind that you never wanted to fall asleep near Randal, much less sleep in his arms. No, you didn't feel like being your Masters sex pet tonight, you already felt humiliated enough wearing these stupid doll clothes that he made you wear.
As the minutes ticked on, you felt gravity pulling your body down, your skin craving the familiar itch of the living room couch. You couldn't keep going on like this, you knew the consequences outweighed the risks. So, you carefully tip-toed to Randal's room, avoiding the numerous dolls scattered around the hall. You peeked through the door, your face pressed up between the door and the hinges. In the dark, you could make out the faint outline of Randal's back, rising and falling softly and steadily in his sleep. You let out a quiet sigh, you were safe tonight.
As you silently creeped back to your beloved couch, if only you had stayed there for a second longer, you would've seen your Master turn his head around, definitely not asleep.
11:41pm
The familiar itch of the scratchy couch blessed your tired body as you plopped down onto it, your body sinking deep into the old cushions. You rested your head on the bundled jacket you used as a pillow, and pulled the quilt over you. After the remote had been found, you flipped through the channels, searching for the perfect show to fall asleep to.
Shopping channel? Too boring.
TLC? Too crazy.
Cooking show? Meh.
Finally you found a channel showing re-runs of Judge Judy, and you set the volume on low, laying down as you watched your favorite show. Tonight's case was another crazy ex situation, he refused to pay child support, and his new girlfriend was suing the defendant for “Calling on a Tuesday." It was mundane and outlandish enough for you, the quiet muffled yells and funny quips lulling you to sleep, the warm sweet embrace of slumber holding you close.
12:03am
Randal had waited long enough, he thought as he loomed over your sleeping form. He had waited, and planned, and pretended to be asleep, and now he finally could have his treat. You were his pet, his doll! And ever since Sebastain got sick, he was so cold at night, so bored… His hands squeezed your shoulder, as he leaned down close, sniffing your lovely face.
“Ke ke ke ke ke~ Dolly, you smell so nice~”
He took a deep whiff, and let out a quiet moan. You smelled like 3-in-1 and underarm sweat, so cute! It was just like in his manga, he was the awkward nerd and you were the sweet and innocent schoolgirl. Except this time, there were no mind control phone apps, no tentacle lockers, and no locker rooms to peek into. He could do whatever he wanted when you were like this.
He crouched down close to your face, as he used his gloved hand to wipe his nose. He was bleeding again, so cool! He let his eyes rake over your body as he pulled that nasty quilt off you, letting himself appreciate his lovely pet. You looked so cute, dressed in some oversized doll clothes he had, because he didn't feel like dressing you like a pierrot. That was Sebby's thing. Not yours.
Randal's hands immediately went to your full chest, which strained against the doll clothes, because, unfortunately, Luther did not allow him to have adult dolls, so you had to make do with clothes meant for flat chested toys. His hands squished and fondled your breasts, which felt softer than any squishamallows he owned.
He swiftly undid the buttons on your dress, letting your full tits spill out. He leaned close, his oddly pink tongue flicking out to lick your flat nipples, trying to force them erect. He supposed nipples were like cocks, they get hard, they're uncomfortable to get cold, and they squirt yummy white liquids. Not that he would know, he grew up in a house full of men, (and Nana,) and he can't remember whatever mother he crawled out of.
Randal's lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking gently as to not rouse you, because he knew if you woke up you would give him the beating of a lifetime, I didn't matter if you were his pet or not. He licked and sucked at your warm, plush flesh, his tongue and mouth traveling all over your plump chest. You were so soft. He couldn't stand it, how could someone so mean be this inviting?
Restraint was now the last thing on his mind. He’d gone long enough without something wrapped around his cock, and to be honest? He was wondering how you would feel compared to Sebby, how cunt felt. He always heard Nyen describe it as “Fishy,” whatever that meant. Whenever he tried to read Luther's old ass romance novels, they always used so many words besides “Pussy” to describe it, ahem, to quote, “-And lo, when she spread her long legs full of grace, there I saw it, the place to welcome my seed, the birthplace of the sin of man-”
“Just call it a vagina, dumbass,” was all Randal could think when he read that. It saved time. And ink.
His hands fumbled with his belt, and finally undid the clasp. He threw his pants across his shoulder, because he thought it made him look cool, he saw it in a Chinese vertical soap opera once. He shimmied out of his briefs, and also threw them over his shoulder, the white undergarments falling on top of the boxy TV.
He moved your body so that you were laying on your back now, facing the ceiling. This allowed him to get on top of you and straddle your hips, his now erect cock resting on your chest, all glorious 7.5 inches of his Canadian pride out on display. He nestled his dick in between your tits, letting out a quiet moan at the feeling of your soft flesh in between his dick. As he starts to slowly thrust in and out of your tits, all he can think about is how it looks like a hotdog, meat in the center, bread on the side.
“And I'll provide the mayonnaise, fufufu~”
In and out, in and out, that's how it went. At first he was slow, scared of the beating he'd receive if you woke up to him on top of you, but now, he needed more. You felt so good, so softer, softer than Sebby, and that was saying something!
He was going so fast it was hurting his back, but he didn't stop, his hands going back to your tits to cover his cock, a soft, warm pocket for his dick, precum pooling in the valley of your breasts, the tip just poking out of the warm little hut he made just for it.
He felt so amazing, how could he ever stop? He just wanted this to never stop, but, as they say, all good things must come to an end, and that end came in the form of his hot release exploding all over her face, and him falling off the couch, falling just right to drag his balls between his pelvis and the itchy carpet.
“Ffffffffuckkk… Ngh, that's what I get for being a bad kitty I guess..”
He had to whisper yell, as to not wake you, curling up on the carpet as above him Judge Judy sentenced the damned to their punishment. Slowly, he pushed himself up, grabbing his underwear and pants, shoving them on in a hurry. Call him a coward, but he wasn't in the mood anymore.
So, he ran back to his room, shutting the door and hurrying to his coffin, laying down as quickly as he could to feign sleep. He’d taste cunt someday, but not now, and to be honest, he was a little tuckered out.
6:01am
Randal's gloved hand groped around for his alarm clock, the lovely hellish bells of the analog clock gracefully welcoming him to a new day. He found the device, and promptly chucked it across the room, shattering it, but he knew it would always show up the next morning. Such was the life of an Ivory. But before he could even reach for his pants, he heard a loud, pissed off voice from the living room.
“RANDAL GET YOUR FUCKING GINGER ASS OVER HERE NOW!!”
*Turns out semen doesn't magically disappear over night.*