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cherubgore · 24 days

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Gibson Girl

3k words, pnv sex, pussy eating, dubcon, and dead dove. Rj doesn't have the same rancid vibes as Otis, and he loves eating pussy more than he loves himself. crossposted on a03.

She’s been chained to the radiator so long that she’s surprised she hasn’t melted yet. A fine little puddle of forgotten womanhood. Bare naked under her nightgown, Denise still felt like she was covered in thick wool layers. Scratchy with sweat and heavy against her shoulders, just like the sweaters she used to wear in the winter. She was removed from Tiny’s domain a little over a week ago, and she almost missed him. Tiny was a gentle giant. He never bothered her unless he wanted to apply more makeup or brush out her hair; his most favorite dolly in the collection, with her flexible ball-joints, so fragile she can barely move at all.

Maybe that's why he got bored with her, or maybe he just was very good at sharing with his older brother. RJ was an unsettlingly quiet man, but his touches weren’t quiet — or soft. His heavy hand fisted in her long hair, twisting delicate strands around his thick fingers, tugging and pulling; making sure she knew who was in charge. Usually, RJ lurked around the house like a sulky cat unless he had to work. Today, he planted himself on his bed, a beer in hand, watching whatever was on the TV. With one massive finger, he cracked open the beer and explained, “A hardworkin’ man needs some time off.”

Denise didn’t know what to say to that. Wetting her dry lips, she found it was better to agree with him. “You deserve it.” Her voice, hoarse from thirst — and neglect, startled her. RJ didn’t seem to care, he only smirked in response. He seemed to like things quiet. He was a busy man, getting up before the sun was out, and often getting home late into the night. Denise supposed that was something good about him.

His grimy, thick nails dug deep into her scalp like he was trying to dig her hair follicles out one by one. Denise watched him like a hawk would a mouse, trying to gage the reaction he wanted from her. Tiny was simple, he wanted a pretty doll to play with. RJ didn’t want a dolly, he wanted a dog. Something loyal and alive to welcome him back home after a long day, he didn’t want a doll; he wanted a woman. Something warm to stuff himself inside off when he felt that certain itch.

Denise was a crumpled, sweaty mess chained to his radiator. It wasn’t like she had a choice. Escape was a fantasy, a bitter, apathetic fantasy. Denise didn’t know why she clung to it; or her memories. She replayed them like worn home movies in her mind, especially the ones of Jerry. She missed him so much that it felt like someone whipped welts against her heart. It hurt so badly to think about him, to think about them. The ache felt so bad, like the exposed nerves of a rotten tooth in a mouthful of nothing but sugar.

Denise forced apart her dry lips again. “It must be very hard.” She went on, unable to stand the silence. Jerry didn’t believe in working for the “man.” Jerry wanted to be a freedom child, a love product of the sixties who still held ironclad to his parents' beliefs, a pair of old timers who Peter Panned through life and instilled the same ethics in their only son. Denise wondered if they even knew he was missing, if they even cared.

“Been a lot of work lately.” RJ grumbled. “Assholes need to learn how to drive.”

“I can’t drive,” Denise blurted out. “No one ever taught me.” As if he would care. She was only some plaything for him until he got bored, which would be soon. Denise could taste her impending death like she could the grits on her teeth from yesterday's breakfast. The fingers in her hair paused, and relief rushed through her, hoping he was done petting her; but RJ only trailed his hand down her neck, rubbing in circles with the pad of his massive thumb at the base of her neck, jolting her body forward with every motion he made.

His rough hands must’ve broken a lot of toys growing up, seemed like he traded in breaking toys for breaking bones. He could easily snap her neck like a bendable straw, and feel just about that the same for her as he did the straw.

“Mama don’t drive, either.” RJ mused. “Lotsa ladies don’t drive. Spaudlin’ taught Baby, I think.” He chuckled to himself, “Tried too, anyway. Girl ran his truck into a wall.”

Maybe that’s why the bitch has scrambled eggs for brains. “That sounds very scary.” Her daddy never wanted her to drive. He was just trying to keep her safe, like he always did. She should’ve listened to him better, that he was right; he did know more, he knew better than she did. The world was a cold, disgusting place waiting to chew on you and spit you out, bones and all. He was right about it all, even Jerry. He was just some hippie going nowhere, even if his heart was in the right place for everything he did. Denise wouldn’t have gone out with him. She wouldn’t of loved him so much if he was a bad person; he was just misunderstood.

Even when they fought, Denise never thought he was an evil man. He just didn’t have the same upbringing that she did. Jerry always told her that she’d choke on that silver spoon one day. Be true to yourself, baby, he’d say to her; then grimace when she did. Denise Willis was not a hippie chick, she was not a freedom child, and she knew that about herself. She believed in justice; Denise believed in soap and aspirin — she didn’t want to live on some community convent like Jerry grew up on; she wanted a spacious little apartment on Hollywood and Vine.

Don’t frown like that, Dee. Jerry used to say. Don’t be such a square, Dee. It’s just a road trip. Don’t do this, Denise, Don’t do that. He almost reminded her of a father in that way, always needing to be in control of what she was doing, thinking, feeling — at least RJ didn’t do that. Under his touch, at her own grotesque thoughts, Denise shivered. She shouldn’t think like that, couldn’t think like that. RJ was not some reluctant hero under the heavy foot of his overbearing family, if anything, he was the pure muscle that made sure they got their evil deeds done.

He was nothing to her, nothing but her captor, an enormous bear guarding the stolen princess.

“Naw. Baby thought it was funny. Now, she ain’t ‘loud to be in the drivers-seat. Me’n Otis gotta drive them everywhere. Don’t mind though, love my mama.”

Denise loved her mother, too. She’d give anything to see her again. “That’s nice.”

RJ shifted on the bed, dipping his hand down the back of her dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass. “You’re nice.”

His hand was warm and damp against her skin, the rough skin scratching an itch Denise didn’t know she had. “My boyfriend used to say I could be a real bitch.”

RJ scoffed. “That hippie sonbitch’ didn’t know his ass from his mouth.” He paused his hand. “Ain’t nothing bitchy about you. Maybe your friend with the braids, but not you.”

Mary. She missed Mary. She was just so excited about starting a new life. Some good that did her. “Mary wasn’t so bad. She had a hard life,” Denise whispered. “But, thank you.”

“Rich girls don’t have hard lives.” RJ said nonchalantly. “Maybe bad days, but not hard lives. Did you have a hard life?” It was the first time he’d ever asked her a question, or bothered to hold a conversation with her.

“No.” Denise admitted, reluctantly. “I had a good life. Until Captain Spauldings.”

RJ laughed at that, too. Finally, bored with petting her, he withdrew his hand from the back of her dress. “Suppose that coulda been a bad day for you.” He took the last swallow of his beer and reached for her again, taking her chin in his massive hand. “Wasn’t such a bad turnout for me. Always thought you was pretty.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. Did he want a “Thank You”? His words felt like maggots burrowing under her skin, eating away at the last bit of humanity she had left. He brushed his thumb against her lips, filling her nose with the faint remnants of sour beer and tobacco. Denise watched him watch her, with half-lidded eyes and a sloppy smirk. He pushed against her clammed lips, demanding entrance into the soft warmth of her mouth. He would keep pushing until he broke teeth, and she’d rather keep all her teeth while she could; So, Denise opened her mouth for him.

“Tiny didn’t know what to do with you. Not like I do,” RJ went on, sliding his thumb gently against her tongue. “Otis is too rough. He likes to break pretty things. I don’t break things.” He paused, laughing. “Well, I don’t try to make a habit of it. Sometimes pretty things are so damn breakable.”

You won’t break me. Denise thought, even with her lips locked around his thumb, she was too stubborn to be broken. Denise wasn’t brave like Mary was, but what was that old bible passage? The meek would inherit the world? All she had to do was bide her time until she was found; and she would be found, Denise was sure of that.

RJ moved this thumb in and out, swirling it around in her mouth, “You like this, don’t you?” He panted. “Gettin’ me all worked up really does something for you, don’t it, mama?”

If that’s what you want to tell yourself. Denise could taste him all over her tongue, and it made her want to retch. But she looked up at him through her lashes, watching the faint blush crawl across his nose, from their interaction or the alcohol — she wasn’t sure; maybe both. She lapped her tongue around his gargantuan finger; Denise was no seductress, she was just an awkward tomboy, something Jerry always made sure to remind her of during their own lovemaking.

“Don’t be so cold, Dee. Can you try to be sexy?” He’d complain. Usually when the fault was undoubtedly with him. Daringly, she wrapped her slender hand around his huge wrist, watching him like a cat would their favorite mouse. But, whatever she had, whatever she was doing; it was good enough for RJ, and that excited something treacherous inside her.

RJ’s chest rose and fell in hurried breaths, his eyes never leaving hers, and something dribbled traitorously against her thigh. RJ jammed his finger deeper into her mouth, and she stifled a gag, his thumb creasing the bottom of her chin. “Let's see how well you do with the real deal, baby.” He said, breathlessly. Sliding his finger free from the wet warmth of her mouth, RJ fumbled over his own belt buckle. “Got me so hard already, baby.”

Drool dripped from her chin onto her nightgown. In her haze, Denise nodded. She’d given head before, though Jerry told her she gave it like a decapitated fish. “Show me,” she rasped, the demand tasting funny in her mouth, like it shouldn’t be there at all. “Show me how hard I make you.”

RJ laughed, giving himself a few eager strokes. “You like what you see, mama?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” Denise sleezed, forgetting herself, forgetting she was bleeding in shark-infested waters. He was bigger than Jerry was, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. RJ could either be the best or worse lay of her entire life.

“Yeah, you do.” RJ boosted. “I saw the way your eyes got wide, bigger than that hippie, huh?”

Denise bit into the fat on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to talk about Jerry now. It was bad enough he plagued her thoughts like some omen. "Does it matter?"

“Yeah. It does, and I am. Bigger than most,” inhaling, RJ worked his giant fist down his cock, smirking at her. “Most girls are scareda’ me.”

Regrettably, her cunt clenched around nothing. “Maybe I’m not most girls.”

“Naw. If you was, you wouldn’t be here right now.” He rubbed his thumb over his reddening tip, “Come on, then.”

Denise edges closer, the chain dragging behind her against the worn floor boards like some fat, slow snake.

substituting his larger hand with her smaller one — which barely encompass his entire shaft. She twists her wrist upwards against his sweaty skin, and RJ groans, bucking his hips against her hand. Maybe it had been awhile. She pumps him downwards, running her thumb along his length, she watches his fingers curl into the dirty sheets below him; was he itching to get those hands on her? Was she itching to let him? Her cunt was aching to be teased, and that disgusted her.

Denise gathered saliva in her mouth, and spat, earning a head tossing moan from RJ. Working, and twisting her wrists, Denise watched his hips twitch, and his fingers dig deeper into the sheets, she couldn’t imagine what he’d do once she had him in her mouth. He might explode.

“You like this?” Denise asks. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” RJ says, breathlessly. “It feels so fucking good.”

Good. It made her feel powerful in a situation that gave her little power at all. Without warning, Denise bowed her head and swirled her tongue around his head, trailing along his meatus. RJ bucks his hips again, forcing more of himself into her mouth, and Denise gags at the sudden invasion. One hand braces itself against his wide leg, and the other grabs at his shaft.

“Gotta warn a man, angel. Shit feels too good.” His heavy hand comes up to collect a wad of hair between his fingers, forcing her down on his dick further. “Take it, baby. I know you can.”

The lack of air causes her throat to constrict around him, her jaw aches, and the tears blur her vision — but she was no quitter. Denise bobs her head up and down along his length, like the good slut she was becoming for him. She didn’t have a fucking choice. Despite that, she has to squeeze her thighs together at his hot, vile words, and the downright nasty noises he was making at her touch. They shouldn’t be making her feel so good, they shouldn’t be lighting a fire under her ass. Still, her tongue laps at him eagerly, teasing him with her little love flicks. Her tongue kisses the parts of him she can’t explore with her hands. Slipping one hand away from his shaft, she dares to tug on his balls, testing the waters to see how far was too far with him.

“Fuck. You keep this shit up, and I’m gonna cum.” RJ growls, fingers digging into her scalp. “Don’t fucking stop. Come on, take all of me baby, please.” He thrusts up into her mouth again, desperate.

Her throat constricted tightly around him again, and this time she can taste the bile rise in the back of hr throat. Without a second thought, Denise spits him out from her mouth and coughs a few times before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I can’t,” she whined. “I can’t breathe when you do that.”

“That’s fine baby. I want to take you for a spin, anyway.” RJ moves fast for a man so large. He makes quick work of the heavy chain around her ankle, but Denise has no time to be relieved when she’s hosted up from the ground. RJ lifted her with ease. He was a behemoth, she probably felt like nothing to him. His wide chest rose and fell under her palms. Was he nervous? His breathing was so fast — excited? Maybe he just wanted her to take control, and that was almost comical. He was such a large man, an imposing man; he could crush her with the raw strength of his thighs. But he wanted her to get on top and ride him.

“You look good like that,” he mused. His large hands coming to rest on her hips, softly rocking her against his waiting, hot, heavy erection. “Feels good, too.”

“Thank you,” Denise forced out, her voice strained. The sensation of him against the small of her back was maddening.

With a smack, RJ's large hands pressed down on her folded thighs, tenderly squeezing them hard enough to bruise. RJ smirked and pulled her forward without waiting for a response, “let's go for a ride.”

“I can’t sit directly over your face,” Denise said. No one had ever offered to eat her out before. Figures the first time some psycho would be the one. “Won’t you suffocate?”

RJ howled with laughter. “Death by eatin’ pussy? What a way to go. I wouldn’t mind that on my tombstone.”

Denise couldn’t help but blush. “I’ve never done this before.” She told him, like it mattered at all to him.

“What? That hippie never took you for a spin?” RJ scoffed. “Fuckin’ idiot. Get up here, I’ll show you what a real man does with a woman.” He pulled her forward, raising her up over his face, “I won’t suffocate.” He added, “Swear it.”

Maybe she should want him to. This shouldn’t be this…cozy, or fun. It was dirty, nasty, and wrong. Denise gasped as her sweat-drenched body lowered onto his waiting mouth. She trembled as he playfully teased her with gentle licks, as if she tasted like some kind of candy. With eager, but slow flicks of his tongue. He dragged it along her folds, not giving her a moment to collect herself before he found her clit with his teeth. He pushed his face harder against her, hands gripping tightly against her thighs, burying himself in all her sticky, wet, glory.

“Fuck,” Denise moaned, planting her hands firmly against the wall. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god.” She couldn’t help but grind down against his tongue. The heat building in her belly was killing her. She could imagine it boiling her organs and frying her heart; killing her before she could reach her feverous peak. His teeth nipped at her labia, like he wanted to make it bleed, make it hurt — and it did. It hurt so good. “RJ, fuck I’m gonna cum.” She tried to peel herself off him, the pleasure building, making her thoughts hazy, only to be slammed back down against his face. Below her, he growled against her cunt, a warning: Do not do that again.

“Shit,” rocking her hips forward into him, Denise clenched her thighs on either side of his head, feeling his low moan erupted from his mouth, and it sent shivers down her spine. Grinding down, Denise threw her head back — her teeth bit hard into her lower lip, and for a split second she hoped that she tasted like acid against his lips. Her orgasm ripped through her like a goddamn freight train, shockwaves of pure, unbridled heat raced through her body, arching her back as far as she humanly could; Denise howled like some lost wolf looking for the light of the moon.

RJ loosened his grip against her thighs, leaving delicate temporary tattoos of his fingers along her skin. He allowed her to slither from his mouth and crumble against his chest in a spent heap. RJ wiped at it with the back of his mouth with his hand. “You cum real pretty, baby girl.” He reached behind him, tapping her lower back with his still hard cock, “Daddy’s turn now, hop on it.”

“I-I can’t, at least give me a break,” Denise whined. Jerry never had her so tired out. There was no way that she could go another round with him like this. “Please, Rufus.”

“I like when you say my name,” He tapped her again, “I want you to scream it.”

Whining, Denise raised her weak body up, rubbing her drooling cunt against the head of his dick. Hating how much she ached to feel it hollow her out, slowly, she forces her tired, puffy cunt down over his red, angry head, sighing at the sensation of being so damn full. She hates how stupid he’s making her, but he is good at making her forget everything; and Denise hasn’t felt this good in weeks. Maybe longer, when was the last time she came that hard with Jerry? The curve of his cock brushes against somewhere that bubbles a moan up from her parted lips; potentially, it wouldn’t be so bad to get fucked this stupid if he blocked everything else in the world out.

RJ groans, bucking up into her warm, wet, eager hole. “Better dick than that hippie, isn't it?”

“God, yes,” Denise moans, voice discombobulated — like she’s been chewing on a ball of cotton. “Rufus, please.” RJ grunts, thrusting his hips up, hitting that same spot from earlier, and phosphenes danced behind her eyes. Denise tries to move her hips, tries to match his pace, but she’s too fuckstupid, too far gone to have any sort of rhythm; she braces her hands against his chest and peers at him through heavy eyes darkened by her own lashes. He’s smirking at her. His hands find her hips, and he guides her along with him, grinding her down against him like a pretty dolly that she is.

Denise rocks back onto him, and each desperate thrust squelches sticky and wet. Anger blooms next to her own arousal. How dare she allow this to happen? What would her friends think of her now? What would her parents think of her? Her inner walls constricted and RJ grunts. Suddenly, it didn’t fucking matter; her brain turned just as sloppy and wet as her cunt and nothing else seemed to make sense.

“You got another one for me, baby?” RJ groans, “I know you do. Come on, let me feel you cum again.” The rusty bedsprings squeaked loudly in time to the two tightly entwined bodies struggling wildly against each other. The sounds of deep, straining grunts and groans filled the hot, stifling air of the room. Mingling with the noise of sweat soaked flesh smacking sharply against sweat soaked flesh and the wet, viscous slurp of his pile driving cock going in and out of her cunt.

Denise gasped, her hips ground uncontrollably against his. Soft mewling animal sounds escaped pitifully from between her passion clenched teeth. “It hurts,” she whimpered, through bared teeth, suddenly, with a deep throated groan, her body began vibrating uncontrollably.

“Y’like it when it hurts, baby?” RJ groans. “Tell me you like it when it hurts.”

“Fuck,” Denise's body felt itself coming to life now. The pain was receding and was slowly giving way to a maddening electric tingle that began deep within her womb and seeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. “I like when it hurts, Rufus.” Her orgasm rippled through her cunt, dancing like fire across her thighs, up the full length of her legs and circled around inside her toes, curling them tightly against the bottoms of her feet. She can feel RJ pulse inside her. Through her lidded eyes, she watched his jaw tighten at his own impending orgasm. It almost looks painful, but he drew his hips back and gave one final slam into her abused cunt before draining himself deep inside her.

“You don’t disappoint, you know that?” RJ said, breathless, running his fingers along her back. He made no moves to remove himself from her, despite how soft he was growing inside her.

Thin rivulets of sweat rolled down her forehead. Collapsing against RJ’s chest, Denise gasped like some sort of fish out of water. “I’ve got a lot to live for,” she muttered, too spent to think about what she was saying.

“I knew you’d be a good pick,” RJ mused, not paying any attention to what she was saying. “Knew you’d be the type to bring home to mama, but know your way around the fuckin’ bedroom. Hate havin’ to train bitches.”

Denise shuddered at the implication of his words. The haze in her mind was clearing, and she didn’t want to think about what he meant.

#house of 1000 corpses #minxie writes*#RJ firefly #Rufus Firefly Jr #Denise Willis #dead dove do not eat #dubcon #I hate this but its the best I can do

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