A/N: So, this is very different for me. I'm not really into ghouls or anything, but this came to me during the game. Ever get an idea that you feel like you just need to write down, even if it's not really your thing? This is that for me. Either way, I had a ton of fun writing it. A burst of creativity like that is hard to come by, so why waste it? I hope all the ghoul fans out there like this.
NOTE: It's already mentioned in the description, but this is pretty graphic, and involves some noncon. Just a reminder if that's not something you want to read.
It had been a long day, that was for sure. After eight groups of raiders, three yao guai, and a trip all the way to Paradise Falls and back, it was time to call it quits and turn in. So why was she taking her sweet time to get us up to the penthouse?
My mistress always did something like this. Either she wanted to stop by the store, or chat up the other Tenpenny residents... Sometimes I wondered if she did it because she knew how uneasy the place made me. Someone's eyes were always on me. Most of them knew of my circumstances, so they had no qualms with talking about me to my mistress, even though I was less than ten feet away. Tonight was no different.
"You're still bringing that zombie with you everywhere?" Gustavo wasn't as bad as the others, but wasn't polite either. I'd had worse...
"Yeah. The flesh rotten thing makes a pretty good pack mule, really." ... mostly from her.
She was the worst to ever hold my contract. When I first saw her walk into the Ninth Circle, I wasn't sure what to think. She wore spiked armor, kept her hair back in a tight bun, and wore a red bandana that didn't seem to go with anything. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a keepsake, or a trophy of some kind. But her face... Even smudged with dirt and dust and grime, she had the face of an angel. Big, pretty eyes and skin that looked soft under all the filth. Nothing like mine, or the kind I had seen every day for years: cracked and peeling. She wore a slight smile, but there was something like a dark mischief that those eyes couldn't keep hidden. After sitting at the bar, Ahzrukhal approached her and started a quiet conversation. She jabbed her thumb back at me over her shoulder at one point as they spoke. I remember feeling somewhat surprised. I didn't remember her even casting a glace my way when she first came in, yet she seemed to know I was there. People had even looked in my direction before, and not noticed me. I sat very still, and I always supposed I just blended in with the peeling paint on the walls. The two of them leaned a bit closer, discussing me. After a few minutes, she got off the stool, nodded to him, and left. Smoothskins were rare in Underworld. I didn't think I would ever see her again, or even one nearly as nice to look at.
Gustavo leaned back in his creaky chair, snapping me out of my memories. "Well, it seems Tenpenny was right to give you a place here. You fit right in." He chuckled.
My mistress sat on the desk in front of him and smirked, giving him an interesting look that I'd seen her give many others. "Gustavo, why don't we get a drink tonight?"
He laughed again, louder this time. "I don't think so, girlie. I've seen the other guys fall for that line before, and it always ends in trouble."
Trouble was right. She wasn't the type to hesitate before taking something she wanted, by any means necessary. The second time I saw her was only a few hours after I told myself she was never coming back. When she walked back into the Ninth Circle, I struggled to suppress my shock. She was covered in fresh blood, smiling a little broader, the darkness in her eyes much more apparent than before. She slid back into the seat she had occupied earlier and Ahzrukhal approached her, looking pleased. They spoke even quieter than before, this time, clearly whispering of a brutal misdeed. After a time, she stood, holding a familiar piece of paper, and walked directly over to me. Her smile was gone. She flashed the piece of paper before my eyes. "Ghoul." Her voice startled me. It was as strangely beautiful as her face, but I knew then that the beauty spoke nothing of who she truly was. "I hold your contract now. Let's go."
After I had finished my business with Ahzrukhal, I followed her out of the Ninth Circle, and out of Underworld. As we left, I saw Greta's lifeless, still bleeding body by the door. I said nothing.
My mistress's hand drifted over to rest on Gustavo's. "I'll make it completely worth your while."
He moved his hand away, hurriedly. "Sorry. You'll have to take that sweet ass somewhere else to find someone to... entertain you for the night." His face was stern now. She leaned closer to him.
"You'll come around." She ended the comment with a fake looking smirk and stood from the desk. The smile disappeared the moment she had turned her back. Her brow had furrowed in a look of frustration that was almost frightening. "Come, ghoul." She meant me. I followed her, as I would have to until the day she died or got rid of me.
The closer we got to the penthouse, the more of her frustration showed through. It spread from her brow to her entire body, like it was rooting itself into place. First, she started looking around impatiently on the elevator, then it was her hands moving to her hips, and her fingers, tapping on the protective metal. Eventually it had made its way to her feet, which she started tapping impatiently. She seemed incredibly tense, even once we reached the top floor. My mistress had grown accustomed to taking someone to bed every night. With her ways of getting what she wanted, usually with violence, I felt no surprise at how upset she seemed about the situation. Tenpenny Tower was one of the most secure, not to mention swank places in the Capitol Wasteland, and she wasn't about to risk her being welcome here just to fuck someone. My mistress was violent, but she was far from stupid.
When she noticed the top floor guard, she rushed over to him and got straight to the point. "Hey, you wanna give me another go tonight?" The guard looked uncomfortable at her proposition.
"After last time? I... don't think so." He must have been the one screaming the prior week. I usually slept on the balcony at night at my mistress's command. There was only one thing I could gather from the sounds inside the penthouse, and that was that she liked to experiment. This didn't always go well.
She sighed impatiently and spoke in short, clipped tones now. "Well, is Burke around? He's less of a pussy than the rest of you." The guard glanced to the side nervously and shook his head, probably worried that she was going to drag him into her quarters to have her fun anyway. She stared at him for a long time, and eventually turned away. She shot a brief look at me, in a way, silently reminding me to follow her. She looked like a hungry, caged predator of some kind, stalking around impatiently, waiting to be fed. I followed her more closely than usual. I didn't want to give her any reason to attack me. If she lashed out, it would be at me, and we weren't in a place that anyone would come to my aid. My mistress flung her door open, banging it against the wall loudly, and the guard was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
I closed the door quietly behind me as she stormed around and slammed down the various things she'd collected to sell the next morning. I followed her cue, and began putting the things she'd given me to carry in all their proper places. As I finished and removed my gloves, it occurred to me that she'd never NOT had company at night like this. Would I still sleep outside, or would she give me a chair? I eyed the carpet at the foot of her bed ominously.
Before I knew what was happening, she was shedding her armor and the black jumpsuit it was attached to, leaving only a short tank top and underwear. It was the first time I'd seen a smoothskin woman with so little clothing since before I could clearly remember. She paced for a while, trying to calm herself down, and stretching out those magnificent, soft, cream-colored limbs. She eventually made her way to the sink and began cleaning herself off. She bent over when she washed her face, showing off a perfectly shaped, tight ass. With her behavior in the wasteland, I sometimes forgot that there was a real, soft, breathing, beautiful woman under all that bloodlust.
She stood again, patting her face dry, seemingly much more calm than she had been five minutes ago. I stood awkwardly by the door as she continued to make her way around the penthouse, setting books on the nightstand, and getting a drink from Godfrey. My eyes continued to travel her body as she drank, up her legs, over her breasts... I lingered on her long neck, watching the movements of her throat as she swallowed the cool, pure water. When I finally reached her face, my blood turned to ice. She was staring at me coolly. She set her water on the table while maintaining her gaze, which was beginning to revert to the hungry, animalistic one she'd had before. The look continued to bore right into me from her spot across the room. It was the first time she had ever looked me directly in the eye, and the intensity with which she did it was frightening. I wanted to look away, but that would be like turning your back on a Deathclaw. Even just to make an attempt at escaping, it could mean the end. She finally started toward me, very slowly. Her hips swayed from side to side as she walked in an alluring, feminine way. It felt like a long time before she was right in front of me, but even then, it was too soon.
"Charon..." For a moment, I wondered if I'd imagined it. She had never said my name before, and for it to come out of those full, perfect lips in such a soothing, sultry way was somewhat disconcerting. I was surprised she even knew it. I had never realized before how much taller I was, next to her. But despite my size, and how completely vulnerable she was, she currently held all the power- and that had nothing to do with a piece of paper. She rested a hand on my chest. When was the last time I had been touched by something other than feral animals and bullets? "Were you staring at me?"
I hesitated. I had seen her flip from kind to vicious before, but she was my mistress. My owner. I had to answer. "Yes, mistress." Death seemed more likely than what happened next. She took my hand and rested it on her hip, just a thin layer of fabric between my hand and the softest skin I'd ever seen in the wastes.
"Do you find me attractive?"
She was obviously torturing me. "Yes." To improve my last statement, getting attacked by ghosts riding giant fish seemed more likely than this woman kissing my face. But there she was, doing it without any sign if hesitation.
She pressed herself against me, placing soft kisses along my jaw. I kept my hands where they were: one at my side, the other on her hip where she'd left it. "And..." she continued, "what do you want to do to me?" She pulled back to stare in my milky eyes again, her own dark ones flashing dangerously. "What do you think about doing to me when you hear me fucking from outside?" Her voice was low and husky. Odd to hear, when it was directed at me.
I had never had sexual thoughts about my mistress before. Some were beginning to form, but I hadn't the slightest idea of how to articulate them. I stayed silent.
"I order you to respond to me." Her commanding voice had returned, and her hand had come down to gently grip my crotch. I let out an involuntary hiss of breath. She smiled deviously at my reaction. "And say it dirty. Don't be so formal."
My breaths were heavier. Words tumbled from my mouth with barely any thought behind them. "I'd fuck you against a wall." She began to rub me, encouraging me to go on. "And from behind on the bed. I'd bite your neck and those tits."
My fingers twitched. I could feel myself getting hard in her hand, relaxing into the situation, as I eyed her with an old hunger I hadn't felt in ages. Her eyes, which turned out to be a rich brown, stared at me ravenously as she fluttered her silky eyelashes at me. "Then do it."
No more than a second after those words left her mouth in such a final tone, had I spun her around and shoved her against the wall. I heard the air leave her lungs, but wasted no time before attacking her throat with my mouth. I grabbed at her perfect ass clumsily, kneading it, finally feeling that smooth flesh on my fingertips. Everything I was doing felt sloppy. It had been ages since I'd done this, and even longer since it had been with a smoothskin like her. She wrapped her arms around my waist encouragingly though, pulling me closer. I wanted to touch her tits, her pussy... but I didn't want to leave her ass. It was like I didn't have enough hands to do everything I wanted to be doing. I risked moving one up under her shirt over a breast. It was somehow even softer than I ever imagined breasts could be. I moved my rough thumb in circles over her nipple, which perked up fast.
Her hands slid up my shoulders, one slinking up my neck and pulling my face to hers. Her lips touched what was left of mine and I involuntarily shuddered. The kiss was deep and strange, her tongue sliding across mine seductively, as if I needed convincing at this point. Out of nowhere, she shoved me away. Some of her hair had come out of its tight style, and her top was awkwardly pushed above one breast. She was panting, and wearing the crazy smile she always had when she was toying with someone who crossed her in the wastes. For a moment, I was worried she'd pull out her favorite knife and start slicing me up, as she had done to so many people since I had joined her. Instead, she tore her top off, further mussing her hair, and stood there proudly, breasts bared. Still breathing heavily, she rested her hands on her hips. "Strip."
I immediately obeyed. My clothing was difficult to remove, so the command was understandable, but removing all of my protection was terrifying. Aside from the feeling of vulnerability, I couldn't help the excitement also coursing through my veins. As hard as I tried, I couldn't understand why she wanted to do this with me. What was even more disconcerting was that I didn't understand the odd combination of things I was feeling. Despite my many years and horrors in the waste, I had never felt so alive and full of adrenaline in this perfectly nice room, with the woman I hated the most. After an awkward few minutes of removing clothing items with that woman staring at me with a powerful, scary, domineering stare on her face, I was nude. Without moving her eyes from my own, she said "good." She stalked over to me again, until we were face to face. "What else do you want tonight?"
For a moment, I wasn't sure if she was asking me, or herself. After a silence, I finally began. "I want to-"
She waved a finger in my face. "No. Show me." After only hesitating for a moment, she shouted "NOW!" The second the word left her mouth, I shoved her to her knees in front of me and drew that same mouth to my dick. Her mouth was wet and wonderful, and she sucked and licked me eagerly. Unsurprisingly, she was talented at this. She grasped at my hip with one hand, and moved the other to stroke the base of my dick, which somehow felt even stiffer than it was before. I let out a hiss of breath as she started to pay more attention to the tip. If we didn't stop soon, it would be over as suddenly as it started, and I wouldn't be able to give her what she wanted. (Which would probably end up worse for me.) I pushed her away and pulled her to her feet by her upper arms, before pushing her back against the wall.
I moved my knee between hers, reached down, and began rubbing her outside of her underwear. Even with the cloth in the way, I could tell she was already soaking. I pressed a little harder at her clit, and she let out a hard breath of air. I shoved my mouth against hers again while continuing to rub her in a way she seemed to like. I finally slid my hand inside her last piece of clothing and continued to rub her like I'd been doing. She was unbelievably slick and soft. It had to have been the must organic thing I'd ever touched with my rotting fingers. I finally slid one inside of her. She squirmed against me. I grabbed her breast with my free hand, pressing her firmly against the wall in the process. I pushed a second finger inside, rubbing her clit with my palm as I moved them in and out. She groaned, and I let my tongue slip into her open mouth. She ground herself against my hand. I took it as a queue to move faster. Her hand came up to grip the arm doing all the work. Her nails dug in. I worried briefly about possible peeling, but after very brief consideration, I decided I didn't care.
She seemed close. I knew I disgusted her. I didn't want her finishing to mean the end of it. For the first time since my contract was formed, I was feeling selfish. I withdrew my fingers from her. After she'd come to her senses, she seemed angry. "Why are you stopping? Put your damn hand back where it was!" I hoisted her up over my shoulder instead. She pounded on my back, screaming at me as I carried her toward the bed. She had either never acknowledged, or never accepted the fact that when it came to raw strength, I was better than her. She was brilliant with a knife or a gun, but she was nothing without them. "Put me down, you pile of shit!" I did. I dumped her on the bed, right where she needed to be. The breath was knocked out of her, and I used the moment to turn her over onto her stomach. I lifted her hips and tugged her underwear off, tossing them to the side. I returned my fingers to where they were. She switched between low, slow breaths, and grunts while I worked my digits into her.
I withdrew my fingers once again. It was my turn. I got on the bed behind her, spreading her legs further. A shiver ran down my spine when my tip touched her opening. This was really happening to me. I had to have simultaneously been the luckiest and unluckiest ghoul there was. I eased myself in and let out a gravelly groan as she breathed a nice smooth one. I dug my fingers into her hips and pulled her flush up against me. She groaned, and mumbled something about me being a son of a bitch while I began to slowly pump in and out. I struggled to keep my breaths slow and even. It was like I was dreaming, and I couldn't help but to wonder if maybe that was all it was. How else could I disregard my contract with such ease just to partake in primal urges? But that feeling... It was so familiar to me, and somehow so bizarre and new, and unlike anything I'd done before. It took all I had to prevent myself from finishing with each stroke. Gravelly grunts escaped me. I must have sounded like some kind of injured animal, compared to the healthier men she'd been with before me. She was panting now, and began bucking against me. I could feel her contract around me, so I picked up my pace. Her fingers clutched the blanket tightly. "Fuck." With very little warning, her whole body tensed, like lightning ran through her. She moaned loudly. "GOD!"
I pulled out and turned her onto her back again. After easing myself in again, and working back to a good pace, I looked at her body splayed out in front of me. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest was heaving... she reached up and pushed weakly at me. I took hold of her wrists and held them against the bed. She struggled vainly, and I would be lying if I said I didn't take at least a little pleasure in seeing her face when she realized she wasn't going to be able to escape for once. I began to thrust as deeply as I could. Her head rolled back as she was swept with another orgasm. I picked up my pace once again. A puff of air escaped her with each thrust, as I came closer and closer. I felt a foreign, but familiar tugging sensation in my balls. I knew what was coming. I released her wrists, and gripped her thighs tightly, pulling her as close as possible. I continued on, suddenly feeling very warm. And then it happened. It was like my soul momentarily left my body. Like I was seeing, but not seeing at the same time. Intense pleasure swept through my entire body. I could feel my mouth open, and the vibrations of sound coming out of it, but I wasn't quite sure what those sounds were. My body felt heavy. I eased myself down to rest on top of her, leaving my dick inside.
Having gotten some of her strength back, she made a more earnest attempt as escaping my grip. I fastened my arms around her waist and propped myself up. I stared down into her eyes. She wasn't looking at me with an expression that I expected, one of pain, or sadness. She seemed to be evaluating the situation, trying to figure out what she should do. Was she going to let me stay? Kill me? She made another move to escape my grasp, but I kept my arms locked in place. She turned her eyes away from me, and sighed through her nose. I moved one of my hands up to touch her hair, which was an absolute mess now. I brushed it out of her eyes. I knew she was strong, a force to be reckoned with. It always made me uneasy to think that someone who looked so normal, even appealing, could be so deadly. But now that she was subdued, and in my grasp, I could finally see her for what she was. I called her animalistic before. I'd forgotten that animals could be tamed. I wondered silently, as I stroked her cheek, if being in charge of her surroundings all the time was hard, and if maybe she wanted to be bossed around in the beginning because of that. Maybe being told what to do felt reassuring for her. She must have trusted me with it, because she holds my contract. My stomach dropped as I wondered again about my fate now that I had disobeyed her. I tightened the arm I still held her with. As long as I had a hold of her, I was safe. I settled against her, the weight of my body holding her down, and I kissed the side of her mouth as lightly and gently as I could manage. She finally turned back and looked at me. "You've done your job. Now go outside."
"No." The word left my mouth before I could even think about how stupid it was. She studied me again, searching for a motive.
"Then at least get off of me." After a moment, I shifted, finally releasing her. If she killed me, I supposed I would at least die a happy man. To my surprise, she headed for the sink, rather than her knife. She was wearing less clothes this time, but I was too worn out to be quite so interested as she splashed water on herself to clean away sweat and fluids. Now that she was across the room, I could appreciate the bed. It was so soft, compared to the chairs, and floors I was accustomed to sleeping on. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy, as the sound of running water stopped. Bare feet sounded across the floor, and I felt the mattress shift as she got back on the bed. I forced my eyes open, and watched her as she settled herself under the covers. I followed her lead and slid in as well. I was tempted to reach out and touch her, but I thought it might be a bad idea. Instead, I rolled over, my back to her, and let myself drift off.
I don't know how long I was asleep, but I'm sure it was longer than I'd slept in years. When I woke, I scanned the room, and my mistress was nowhere to be seen. I sat up and rubbed my temples. What had I been thinking? I got out of bed and began putting my clothes back on. As I pulled on my boots, she reappeared. She was counting caps, and it dawned on me. She was selling the things we'd brought back the previous night. I was amazed she didn't wake me up to help her carry things. We locked eyes. I bowed my head a little in submission. Surprisingly, her stare wasn't one of coldness, or anger. It was one of familiarity, of recognition. She walked across the room, breaking our gaze. Once I had pulled my gloves back on, I felt secure again. No longer... squishy, and defenseless. She approached me, and handed me some things to carry, as if it were like any other day. She started toward the door, and without looking, she said "come, Charon."
I blinked. Had I heard her right? Maybe things would get better. At the very least, I was safe... for now.