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Builderman might have been the head admin of ROBLOXIA, might be seen extravagant by how wide his control over the city is, but Builderman likes to keep it under the wraps. Despite his wealth and popularity amongst his people, he isn’t one to go for a bougie home hence why his house and neighbourhood looks like any ordinary citizen. He likes it that way. It makes him feel closer to people even if some- and if not most -get scared at the sight of him when he opens the door to receive any sort of package and whatnot.
And maybe, just maybe, that was his mistake for living too ordinarily.
-
He went straight home like he usually did when the day dims and the moon peeks out of the corner of the earth. Hardcap and his jacket placed neatly to the side, jeans already shimmied out and tossed to the laundry basket by the bathroom. His back aching from sitting for too long in his office, entertaining meetings, overseeing reports of any destructive hackers that may linger around town, and doing the usual paperwork to review what’s good for the city. What’s good for the people.
Builderman sighs, walking up the stairs, the floorboards groaning under his weight with each placement of his feet. He doesn’t really feel like eating. Well, he already ate food along the way so there really is no need for him to stay downstairs any longer.
His room is cozy, a typical design for any guy with his age. It’s minimalistic with a few decorations that makes it stand out a little bit. A couple of posters and the quote he practically attached to the company, “Aim high, aim far, and aim for greatness.”. He sometimes snorts whenever he reads it out of the corner of his eyes.
He plops down on his bed. Again, a pretty typical standard bed that could fit at least two people. It’s too bad that he doesn’t really have anyone else to live with him but oh well. With his last thoughts leaving his mind, Builderman felt his eyelids droop.
.
.
There’s a shuffle coming from the door. His brows furrow in confusion yet his eyelids refused to open and see what could’ve made that noise. The small rustle of a passing breeze against a tree near his window was enough to sedate him, enough to make him think that his mind is just so tired, it’s mishearing where noises are coming from.
A weight dimples the corner of his bed. His eyes finally shut open though that action was already too late when a dark clawed hand snatched his mouth shut, muffling his panicked screams. His body flailed in different directions, fighting whatever figure was on the bed with him. His eyes frantically opened and closed as he continued to struggle, going in and out of his views. At his peripheral, Builderman sees a pair of golden wings avoid his thrashing.
No, no, no, no!
“Mnghh!” His scream was left muffled by the hand. The strength of the figure holding him down has not dwindled, in fact, it seemed to have doubled when it had noticed that Builderman knows who’s behind this. His arms and legs were now forced to straighten up as a bind rope fell down on his skin, sure to leave marks in its wake by the time he gets released.
Telamon struck him across the head. Builderman wished he could have been insane enough to just wear his hardcap to bed.
.
.
.
His mind feels heavy, heavier than usual. His eyes squint for a bit before closing again after taking a few shapes to consume. His arms and legs sway with the movement of the wind. He wants to fight back. His mind screams for him to fight back. His own body refuses to move.
The next time he opens his eyes, Builderman is met with white walls akin to that of a hospital room, sterile and blank except for a few essentials to keep someone alive. The ceiling isn’t pleasant to the eyes either, the light is too bright for him. His heavy head could only toss to one side so he did. His head shifts to the left, a door, an exit from here. He whines, trying to force his body to move.
He shouldn’t have done that.
“You’re awake,” a snarky voice gleefully points out, coming from somewhere in this room. How..?
He hears footsteps coming closer to him. Again, that same weight dimples the bed he’s on top of. “T-Tele…” He weakly rasped, his body too lethargic to make him truly do anything. It frustrates him enough to cause a couple of tears to form at the corner of his eyes. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the god.
“Oh, hush now, my dear wife. Your body will cooperate soon enough.” A claw reached out to brush away the singular tear that slid down his face. His frustration grew at the gesture.
That same claw trailed down to his cheek, one sharp end tugging on his gaping mouth, inching lower to his neck, his breath stutters when he feels it in his chest(very briefly in his mind, he's suddenly aware that he's not wearing clothes at all), down to his abdomen until it rests just above his genital. “Not yet,” the god mutters above him, those hands ache to get closer to his dry hole, “I want you fully conscious when I take you but,” he trails his fingers down to the rim, rubbing the pad against the dryness to coax out some kind of arousal, “that doesn't mean I can't prep you in the mean time.”
Another whimper left his lips, a broken plea to make the god stop touching him there. Careful fingers traced it in circular motion, making sure to not let his talons scrape. “P-plea—” he gasped in between breaths. More tears have gathered in his eyes, one by one flowing down his cheeks, “Please no… n-no.. please..!”
Telemon continues to tease his hole without hearing a single word that utters out of his lips. The god is enjoying the sight of the head admin squirm beneath him. Occasionally, the god would push his finger hard enough to make the hole bend slightly under its force. It earns Telemon the most beautiful gasps.
He was getting used to just having his hole get played with. The gesture started to make his dick twitch. He was getting used to it until—
“Ahhh!!!!”
His body snapped back to its full control, his back arching and his head tossed along with it. The god had just pushed a finger inside of him. A dry one, in fact. It burns his insides.
By no means is Builderman a virgin on the bed, but he isn't exactly the receiving one when it comes to it.
“You’re so tight,” The god grunts, finding it difficult to move his finger deeper without letting his sharp nail cut the sensitive walls, “you're such a good wife for saving yourself for me.”
Now that Builderman’s body and mind had snapped out of lethargy, his mouth was now more frantic in spilling his displeasure of this whole ordeal, his body squirming, arms punching the god on the shoulders. “N-no! Please! Please! Pull it out! Pull it out!”
As if to be heard for once, the finger pops out of his hole with a sickening squelch. Builderman pants with relief. It was short-lived when he felt something more wet push against his hole.
“Y-you can't— Telemon, stop!”
His cry reached a fever pitch. Each syllable punctuated with dread, leaving a zero hint of his commanding voice when ordering his employees around.
Lubricated fingers, about three of them, forced its way inside of his virgin hole, stretching Builderman like nothing before.
A choked squeal left the head admin’s lips.
Telemon smirked, enjoying the sight and noises that his wife was making. He had long to witness this moment and finally, he can enjoy it in its full glory.
Without remorse for the head admin, the fingers pumped in and out, creating a lewd noise that rings throughout the room with Builderman’s full blown sobs.
Each push makes his hips rise up and each pull makes his hole chase those cursed fingers. He gags on his own pleas to make the god stop, to make this shameful feeling stop. The fingering is starting to feel good and that terrifies him.
He wished he could do more than just allow this to happen. His arms are beginning to ache from his constant punches to the god. By no means is he weak either but what is a man to a god anyway?
“You can't do this to me!”
He yelled at the top of his lungs. His prostate was found and abused by those fingers. His cock is twitching now. His cheeks flushed in a deep shade of hue akin to his grey skin.
“Tele— Telemon please! Please! Please!”
He doesn't know where they are but wherever they are, he knows he's nowhere near civilization. There's no way his screams are left unheard by anyone that could possibly be passing by. He's just too loud. Just the way God likes it.
Fingers popped out of his stretched hole, a sickening wet noise forced Builderman to acknowledge how wide his hole is right now. A trail of lube and his own juices followed those fingers, creating a disgusting string that makes him squirm-ish.
“Telemon… I'm sorry-” he hiccups, his face so puffy from crying too much, “-I’m sorry, please let me go,”
A large wet object pressed against his empty opening. Another round of sobs left his lips.
“Telemon stop! It won't fit!”
The god began to push inside of him without regard to his mental state.
“You feel so good, my wife. So tight and aching for my cock. I'll make sure to feed you with it everyday.”
His mind blanked out, desperately trying to escape the reality he's in, desperate to not make him break. He's gonna break from the size. He's too big.
Drool slips out of his lips, his hands claws the god on his shoulders, his pupils shrank in pebble size.
Telemon snaps his hips to bring Builderman back to his senses. A broken yelp forced out of his throat. He's acutely aware of the bulge that had formed on the surface of his stomach, only disappearing slightly when the god drags his cock out.
“It hurts!”
Was slurred out of his wet lips. It's the only words that his mind could supplement at the moment as Telemon began to thrust harshly into him. Wet skin-to-skin slapping was heard throughout the sterile room.
His pained moans slowly morphed into pleasure causing his chest to get filled with shame for enjoying his own violation.
The god had his legs bent upwards, giving him more proper access to fuck the head admin thoroughly. His asshole accommodates the size and length. It's all too much.
Builderman wished he could dissociate, he wished his mind could wander away from this but he can't. He's too hyper aware of what's happening to him right now that he can't drift anywhere else but this.
The tip pounds on his prostate and deeper into his ass. The bulge pushed the skin of his abdomen towards his chest. His own asshole drools, creating a sticky mess between them, the noises becoming more lewd by the second.
He's gonna blank out from pleasure.
An orgasm forced out his cock, covering their stomachs together with his filth. It only encourages the god to go further.
Telemon’s stamina has not abated even after what felt like hours for Builderman.
In fact, he had been manhandled to the god's desired position after he came and blanked out from sheer ecstasy that his mind was forced to endure.
“Nngh! Mngh! T-Telemon!”
The god has him in a full nelson. Arms under his knees to pull his legs up, his own arms trapped underneath. His nails dig into the skin of Telemon's thighs.
Builderman is making a face, crossed eye and tongue lulled out of his lips.
An accumulation of tears, spit, and snot had made his face stuffy.
His nipples are hard, his cock leaks uncontrollably, and his walls couldn't stop quivering around the cock pounding inside him.
Builderman’s hips hurt from the position he's in but that numbing pain is completely overridden by the unbelievable amount of pleasure that Telemon is providing him.
“Gonna knock you up. Make you full of my eggs so you can truly be a proper wife to me.”
Telemon groans against his left ear. Builderman would've missed it if it weren't for the promise sending him out of his hazy pleasure. No, he doesn't want to end up pregnant!
“W-wait!” He starts to wriggle from the position he's in. His legs are weak from being held up for too long and for the fact that he's still getting harshly pounded by the cock slamming deep inside him, “I don't want to end up pregnant! Pull out, pull out please!”
His struggles remain futile. He can't fight back even if he tries with all his might.
Telemon merely budges from his position, unmoved and undisturbed by his squirming and crying.
“Please don't get me pregnant!”
A bulge knocked just outside his rim and Builderman knows what that entails.
He wails louder than he ever did before. His own cries hurt his head.
A knot to signify that the god is ready to lay his eggs and cum deep inside his stomach.
He tries to push his hips up to escape the cock. He only succeeds in returning the favor to the god by impaling himself up and down the length.
“It’s okay, your pussy can take it. I know it can. You're a good wife to me, aren't you? You'll look so round and good with my eggs inside of you.”
“Telemon I can't!”
“You can.”
“I can't! I cant! I can't—”
A deafening scream topples out of his lungs.
With one, two, final thrust to his hole, the knot pops inside and binds them together. Cum spills deep inside of him, making him fuller than any food he has ever eaten.
If it weren't for the knot plugging him in, Builderman is certain that the cum would've spilled at the edges of his opening by now. It's unfortunate that isn't the case.
After being filled to the brim with copious amounts of seed, the eggs started coming out of the God's tip and deep into his guts to join the cum to get fertilized.
“No…”
A tired sigh leaves his lips as he feels his stomach strain against his own skin, forced to carry something unnatural deep inside of him.
“No more… please Telemon…”
Three, four, five, six eggs laid deep inside of him.
Builderman faints from the absurdity of his situation.
.
.
.
“Sweet wife, you missed a spot.”
Telemon points out to his beloved who was cleaning the kitchen counter after preparing their meal for the day.
His wife emits a small whine of protest at his small jab.
It made Telemon chuckle at the noise.
“You know I don't mean to put you down like that.”
His hands gripped the small waist of his wife. His cock buried itself in the sopping wet cunt he had trained to take him whole and full without pain and protest.
“You're being unfair.”
Despite having her face turned away from him, he can still sense the pout on her lips.
“Aw shucks, am I? You're not being fair either with you walking around the place naked apart from your white apron and matching cute ribbon string on your clit.”
Another whine elicits out of his wife when he thrusts a particular spot deep inside her. A wicked smile plastered up on his face.
“You won't let me wear anything else.”
His wife is so whiny but then again, that's why he fell in love with her in the first place.