Author's Note:
A commission fic. Every word processor is different and has given me a different word count across Pages (Mac), Microsoft Word, and even on this site, but I've made sure that this short story clocks in at exactly 3500 words.
Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings/Triggers:
Child sexual abuse, non-con, pedophilia, rape, sexual assault
Finally, a moment of privacy!
Edd heaves another sigh of relief, delicately taking a step to the other side of the bathroom door and leaning against the wall there to wait for Terry to come back out. Just getting this itchy wig off of his head will be heavenly, but getting away from the crowds is the real reward. It's been such a long, exhausting day.
The door opens and a couple of boys walk out.
"What an asshole…" one of them grumbles, nudging his friend.
"Pretty good Bowser, though," said friend shrugs back.
Their conversation fades away as they stomp off to the main area of the arcade. Shortly after, Terry returns, nodding for Edd to enter as he stands beside the door.
"Coast is clear," he assures him, "Let's go."
Edd smiles as he stands straight, hoisting the skirt up just a bit to avoid stepping on the low-hanging fabric to slip inside, using Terry as a blockade to hide the action. True to the man's word, the bathroom is indeed empty. Those two must've been the only ones in here. Edd's nose crinkles against the distinctive stench of cigarette smoke that permeates the air. That would explain it. Oh well. It's not like he's intent on lingering. The Princess can't be MIA for too long, after all. Just gotta take a moment to freshen up.
Aside from the aching in his blistered feet, his hips feel bruised from all of the pinches and squeezes from the overly…'enthusiastic' fanboys who had been more than excited to get a photo with the Mushroom Princess. And heaven forbid he protest their inappropriate behavior and ruin the photo, thereby making their 'clients' ask Eddy for a refund. Of course, Ed and Eddy were getting plenty of photo ops too, but it would seem that even the Mario Brothers couldn't hold a candle to the fame of Princess Peach. As such, most of their earnings had come from patrons who wanted pictures of or with Edd. Eddy, of course, had been thrilled that his little plan was coming to fruition and had taken any opportunity between snapshots to gloat about how heavy his coin jar was getting. Ed was having a blast too, excitedly playing the part of the lovable plumber in green. By now, his large mustache was barely hanging onto his sweaty lip by a thread (a result of him constantly toying with it). Oh well? At least most of his patrons simply wanted hugs — something they all regret instantly. How lucky he is, though.
A few of them wanted photos of Mario and Peach, which Eddy seemed pleased by — all too eager to step into the spotlight — and Edd would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying himself at least a little as well. The attention and appreciation for all of the hard work he'd put into his costume made the agony in his feet so much more worth it. The hours he'd spent, stooped over his mother's sewing machine and the sleek, silken fabric to make sure his seams were exquisite and the final result as screen-accurate as possible. Every person who approached them gushed about how pretty their Peach is before asking for a photo — something Edd had never once anticipated — indicating that he'd slipped so effortlessly into the role and his costume was convincing enough that they couldn't determine his gender. He's not wholly sure that he's comfortable with that aspect of this endeavor, but it made Eddy money, which made Eddy happy. So, that and the compliments helped to make that particular aspect less hurtful.
By now, even Terry didn't seem to mind the venture as much as he had initially. Though he's sure the sixty-forty cut he'd been promised and the fact that the grumbling man had only the bare minimum as far as costume was concerned — a pair of bracelets that looked like spiked, metal cuffs, a headband with horns attached that he wore under his hat, and the green shell backpack the Eds had put days worth of work into — was likely the reason for that, Edd liked to believe he was enjoying his role as the Koopa King. At least, he certainly seemed to enjoy playing his part whenever he too would be asked for a photo. Particularly when they wanted a snapshot of Bowser and Peach, for whatever reason.
Approaching the counter, Edd passes by the line of sinks and retrieves several sheets of paper towels. After a thorough wipe down of the wet countertop, he sets a stack of the towels beside the sink for easy access and lays a few others on the floor. With a grimace, he gingerly steps out of the heels, ignoring the little voice in his head that's screaming at him not to — that the myriad of germs on these tiles isn't worth the momentary relief that removing his shoes will bring. He at least stands on the paper towels in hopes of mitigating his discomfort. Through the thin paper, he can feel the coolness of the tiles, drawing a long sigh from him and making his shoulders fall as he takes a moment to enjoy the sensation, his previous reservations briefly forgotten.
When he returns to his senses, he removes the white opera gloves and folds them neatly beside the sink and the extra paper towels. He considers, briefly, washing his face — the cold water will feel so good! — but decides against it for now. They'd put the spare makeup in Terry's backpack (since Edd was unable to add pockets to his dress), and he's more than a little apprehensive about asking for them. Instead he grabs one of the paper towels in the stack and runs some cold water over it with the intent of sponging it over his burning neck. With a grin, he sets that down and reaches up to remove the wig.
Or at least, he would, had he not noticed Terry leaning against the door, his eyes locked on him as they had been for most of the day. Edd can feel his cheeks growing hot. How long has he been standing there? He clears his throat, hesitating. He simply can't take the wig off with Terry in the room! Not while he's without his hat. Curse my dedication to this wretched costume.
"I-I can handle it from here," he mumbles, bowing his head shyly, "Perhaps you could stand outside and deter anyone from coming in that way? After all, there's really not much need for you to stay in here."
"Oh…" Terry hums, his voice followed by a soft click, "I think there is."
Startled, Edd looks back up at him, finding his hand lingering but a moment over the lock on the door. Brow furrowed, Edd turns to him fully, all notion of removing the wig forgotten as Terry pushes himself off of the door to approach him. Swallowing thickly, Edd backs away, shivering as his bare feet come into contact with the frigid, slightly wet tiles.
"Wh-What are you doing…?" he stutters, "This isn't funny…"
"Y'know, you really do make a perfect princess," Terry purrs, his cold eyes boring into him.
Edd's back hits the wall, making him shrink in on himself. Even if he could be quick enough, he knows he wouldn't be able to run should Terry do something. He considers screaming, but gulps it back. If someone catches them — catches him, a supposed female in the men's room — like this, it might make things worse.
"So pretty…" Terry breathes, reaching towards him.
Eyes wide, Edd slaps his hand away, shutting his eyes as he bows his head.
"Stop it!" he cries, "Your constant mockery isn't —"
"Should be careful, though, Princess," Terry goes on, ignoring his whimpering.
Edd glances up at him, confused. Terry's glaring down at him, his lip curling into a grimace.
"All those lil admirers you got out there…" he nearly growls, "You been cheatin' on me all damn day n' I'm gettin' sick of it."
Edd's jaw drops; "Wh-What?! What are you talking about?!"
Terry grabs his arm, drawing him from his shock as his grip becomes bruising.
"If yer gonna be gettin' all dolled-up like this," he hisses, "It damn well better be for me, not these horny little fuckers."
"P-Please stop!" Edd breathes, his eyes darting between Terry and the door, "You're hurting me!"
Terry scoffs, yanking Edd towards him; "You been fuckin' teasin' me all damn day." He gives the boy a wicked grin. "And I think it's about time you take responsibility for that."
Mouth dry, Edd struggles against the iron grip holding him down. With tears pricking the corners of his eyes, he opens his mouth, taking a deep breath. Forget remaining hidden or preventing anyone from finding him! He has to stop this now.
Before he can scream, however, Terry's other hand slaps over his mouth, his fingers digging painfully into his cheeks. Edd whimpers, his own hands coming up to grab Terry's wrist. When he looks up again, those cold, blue eyes are locked on his own in a threatening glare.
"You wanna scream?" Terry growls, his words dripping in threat, "You want someone to come save their little Princess?" He chuckles. "Well, maybe I should just drag you out there instead? We'll even take the wig off first — let 'em see what you are. But hey, maybe they won't beat the shit out of you for tricking them the way you have. Maybe they'll still come to the rescue of the little boy who likes to wear girl's clothes? Not gonna lie, though; I highly doubt it."
Edd starts quivering, realizing suddenly how dangerous such a prospect really is.
"Ooh…not to mention what they'll do to Pipsqueak," Terry adds, garnering every last bit of Edd's attention, "They'll want all their money back…and he'll be so fuckin' mad at you."
The tears begin falling down Edd's face as he whines pitifully behind Terry's hand. He's right. As much as he hates it, Edd can't deny that…He wonders if Terry can read his mind as he releases his grip over Edd's mouth, allowing him to speak again.
"P-Please…" Edd begs softly, "Just leave me alone…"
"Leave the wig on, will ya?" Terry chuckles, standing straight, "Bowser wants his Peach."
Edd can't bring himself to respond as he's yanked forward to be picked up and set on the counter. Terry hikes the skirt up, smirking at the sight of Edd's bare, hairless legs, and nothing but a pair of stark-white briefs acting as a barrier between them. Before Edd can beg him any more to stop, he's silenced by Terry's lips and tongue dominating his mouth. As he does, he pulls Edd against him, the lithe little legs resting uncomfortably on either side of Terry's waist.
Edd's mind goes a mile a minute, jumping between worrying about the way his lipstick must be smearing over their lips to the hardness that's making itself known against his backside as he's nearly folded in half on the countertop. The thick tongue searches his mouth, sliding over his teeth, between his gap. He gags a bit. Terry's grip on his hips is getting painful as he rocks against Edd. To Edd's horror, he begins to feel a tightening in his abdomen and — how shameful! — his own cock hardening.
Finally, Terry pulls away, grinning down at him. When his hands leave Edd's hips, the boy begins to relax ever so slightly. His breathing isn't getting any easier to control, even as he tries to push the skirt back down to hide his arousal. He notices Terry removing his pants, letting them and his boxers fall to pool around his ankles. As his erect penis is exposed, Edd pales considerably. He feels sick as he realizes where this is really going.
"N-No…" he begs.
"Better keep quiet, Princess," Terry purrs, grabbing the slender hips again and pulling the boy's underwear down his legs, "Someone might hear and find you like this." He pulls the underwear off of just one of Edd's legs. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"
Edd whimpers, covering his mouth to stifle his sobbing. Through the blur of his tears, he can just barely make out Terry removing something from the pocket of his plaid shirt. The horns on his head are obscured further, making him look more like the devil he is as he opens some sort of tube. It almost looks like lotion.
"Little somethin' to loosin' you up," Terry purrs, spreading a colorless gel over his fingers.
"Y-You just…carry that around?"
"Not usually," Terry retorts with a smirk as he sets the tube aside again.
Edd's eyes widen again at the implication that answer raises. He's given no opportunity to dwell on it, though, as Terry grabs his hip again. He feels something wet and shockingly cold against his anus, making him squeak slightly in response before whining against the discomfort and pain as Terry's finger penetrates him. His hands move to cover his face completely against the shame and his mind goes blank as he thinks of everything and nothing all at the same time. He prays for someone to come — to stop this horror before it can truly begin. But then again…he's not sure which is worse. The inevitable loss of his innocence should this continue, or the humiliation of being caught like this. He feels Terry squeeze in a second finger as he leans in to whisper into Edd's ear.
"Relax, Princess," he orders, "Or it'll hurt even worse."
Of course, Edd ignores him, his hands moving again to clamp more forcefully over his own mouth. The fingers scissor within his asshole, making his face burn a deeper red. Then a third finger joins them. Edd's voice struggles against the blockade of his hands and he can feel his tears slipping between the flesh of his palms and his cheeks. Dear lord — when will this end?!
And just like that, Terry's probing fingers are removed and the hand on his hip is lifted as well. Sighing heavily, Edd's body goes lax. His hands slip from where they'd been holding back his screams, allowing him to breathe easier. He hears the click of the tube again, sending a wave of dread through him. He raises his eyes back to Terry, blanching again at the sight of his sizable cock glistening with the gel. Gulping down his unease, he tries to cover his genitals.
"P-Please!" he begs, trying his damnedest to keep his voice down as he draws his knees together, "N-Not that! Anything but that!"
"Hold still," Terry commands, swatting his hands away and spreading the slender legs.
His grip on Edd's hip is more painful than before as he holds him down. Edd's hands immediately slap against the broad chest and he feebly pushes against him.
"No!" he whimpers, panic taking him as he feels the slick head graze his taint, "Stop!"
"I said, hold still," Terry hisses, a hint of a threat in his tone.
As Terry guides his dick to Edd's puckered hole with one hand and holds him down in a vice grip with the other, Edd brings his hands back to his mouth. There's no way he can physically stop him. No one's come to the door or tried to get in. And even if they had, he questions if it would've been better. He clamps his hands down more firmly as the thick cock begins pushing into him. Fresh tears trickle down his cheeks and he desperately tries to silence the agonized wail that's breaking through. The smell of cigarette smoke is even more stifling than before, perhaps because he can only suck in air through his nose. It makes him want to vomit. Well, that and the horrific pain in his ass.
When Terry stops moving, the entire length of his cock nestled as deep as can be, Edd opens his mouth to gulp down mouthfuls of air to give himself a slight reprieve from the horrid odor. It's doing nothing to quell his agony, but then again, he doubts anything will. He feels Terry's other hand on his hip, cold and sticky with the weird gel.
Then he starts moving again.
Pulling his cock all the way out, giving Edd only the briefest moment of relief, and then slamming back in. Digging his nails into his own cheeks, Edd chokes back his scream. He swears he feels something tear inside him with each thrust. Whether that tear is physical or simply his own soul rending as his innocence is ripped from him, he's not sure. All he knows is that it hurts even more than before. He sobs pitifully into his hands, unable to determine any longer whether or not he's staying quiet enough. Terry isn't demanding he be quieter, so he assumes he is?
It's a blur; however long Terry ravages him. He believes it must have been a day and a half at least — that he's been violating him like this for so long that the arcade has had time to close and then reopen. There's no windows in here. It's not out of the realm of possibility, right? Well, no, of course that's not right. Ed and Eddy would've come looking for him by now if it'd been that long. But, really, he can't be sure if this heinous act has lasted minutes or hours.
Oh, but it does end. As Terry's thrusts become more erratic, he leans into Edd's ear.
"You're mine," he snarls, nipping at Edd's earlobe, "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it."
With a weak whimper, Edd shakes his head. He can't possibly — Terry gives a particularly sharp thrust, making Edd gasp and emit a sharp yelp, muffled a bit less by his hands.
"I said say it," Terry demands, "Say you're my Princess."
Realizing that this should surely make this end faster, Edd swallows down his pride and shakily moves his hands away from his mouth just enough to speak.
"I…I'm…your…Princess," he manages through a sob.
That seems to be enough to satisfy him, because Terry doesn't demand it again. Instead, he buries his face in Edd's neck, groaning as his rocking reaches its peak speed and power. He goes rigid moments after that, pulling the slender hips flush against his own. Edd feels something bursting forth from the head of Terry's cock, a rush of heat and wetness that he realizes with a swell of sickness is semen. Panting, Terry leans heavily against one hand, using the other to stroke Edd's thigh as he kisses along his jaw.
"Very good…" he sighs, his own voice muffled by Edd's flesh, "I hope you're this obedient tonight as well."
That yanks Edd back to reality, making him gasp softly.
"What?"
Terry rises to lean over him, resting both hands on the counter so he can focus intently on Edd.
"Tonight," he breathes, "After those little anklebiters fall asleep, you'll come to my bedroom for round two."
"A-Absolutely not!" Edd hisses, "I refuse to stay with Eddy again as long as you're there! I never want to see you ever again!"
"Oh yeah?" Terry chuckles, grinning wickedly, "I guess that means you're okay with me tellin' the little Pipsqueak about this, then?"
Edd feels his heart sink at the suggestion.
"Y-You wouldn't…" he mumbles, "You can't."
"Sure I can," Terry shrugs back, "'Specially if you don't do what I tell ya." He casts him a sly, sidelong glance, "So, what'll it be?"
Edd searches his face for deceit. He's bluffing. Surely he wouldn't tell Eddy — he'd be putting himself at risk to go to jail! But…then again…Eddy still worships Terry. If Terry spun it in such a way that made Edd sound like a willing participant — or, heaven forbid, the instigator of this despicable act — Eddy might never speak to him again.
And he can't bear to lose him. Not over something like this.
Bowing his head, he curls in on himself a bit; "O-Okay…Whatever you want."
"Good," Terry purrs, pulling his softened cock from Edd's abused hole.
The action includes a soft, lewd pop that sounds disgustingly amplified in Edd's ears. As Terry moves away, Edd can feel the cool counter beneath his ass, realizing that the skirt has been hiked up even further around his waist. He dares not look down at the filthy organ that had violated him as Terry retrieves some fresh paper towels to clean himself up with. When he's done, he pulls his boxers and pants back up.
"I'll be waitin' outside," the smug voice informs him, "Get yerself cleaned up, Princess. And make it snappy, will ya? I don't feel like waitin' too damn long."
Without waiting for a response, Terry crosses the room to the door, chuckling to himself as he slips out of the bathroom, leaving the trembling child to his tormented thoughts.