Work Text:
You were walking through the public transportation stop with your best friend Nikita in irkutsk, plotting to kill your next victim, not a care in the world. Your mind was empty, null. You liked it that way. Suddenly, you got a boner and he saw it. You were confused, until you heard footsteps behind you.
You looked back, and didn’t see anyone at first. Suddenly, you looked down and saw someone standing there. It was Quandale.
Your heart began racing, you weren’t supposed to see him until tonight. Why was he here? You couldn’t have Quandale see you like this! You were supposed to kill a homeless person!
You looked down at him and saw a terrifying look in his eyes. Now, Quandale Dingle has always been a bit deranged, but nothing like this. Those eyes, those eyes. Something about them was so strange, so foreign.
Suddenly, he shook his head, then took your best friend Nikita away. You were shocked. But you liked, it though. In a strange way. It was almost erotic, in a sense.
No, no, stop it. Get those thoughts out of your head. That could never happen, not with Quandale and Nikita.
“Nikita, A-Are you okay?” You asked him, your voice trembling. Suddenly, he grabbed your arm.
“Come on and have a seat.” He said in the sexy voice, ignoring Nikita. You felt your stomach turn inside out. Quandale Dingle himself, touching your arm.
You felt a weird sense of control over you. Quandale had something you didn’t, he knew something you didn’t. And that look, he had that look. That strange look.
You sat down, and he pinned your legs to the floor. He slipped down your femboy panties and slid his hand onto your thigh.
“Artyom,” he said sensually.
As you felt his small hand grip your thigh, your heart began to race. You wanted to ask why, ask what he was doing, but at the same time, you didn’t. You liked it. You let him.
“Let me see your cock, Artyom.” Quandale requested. You looked into his eyes, and knew that he meant business. You looked down at your skirt, your throbbing bulge visible, and thought about if you really wanted to do this. Nikita was shocked.
You looked at the deranged, unhinged, unstable, and absolutely insane individual and decided to give him control over your body. Quandale would never hurt you, right? He’d never do anything like that. He may be a complete and total maniac, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t hot. If anything, that made him hotter.
You looked into his eyes, sparkling like a predator about to catch its prey, and lifted up your skirt.
There it was, in all its glory. Your cock. Your glorious, glorious cock. Your wonderful weiner, your delightful dick, your terrific tool, your wicked whang. And to the maniac standing in front of you, your perfect pickle.
His eyes glittered. He was absolutely captivated by it. Staring in awe, his mouth slightly ajar, you sat there for a few seconds. Your cock was absolutely throbbing.
“I know you want kill a homeless person like what you and your best friend do all the time, but, we have some preparations to do.” He looked absolutely terrifying. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped. “Are you prepared?”
With that final word, you didn’t feel so scared anymore. You knew everything was going to be okay. You sat back against a tree. Quandale followed. He now towered over you. He stroked his fingers through your hair, and you felt all of your fears and worries go away just like that.
You looked up at him, and for a split second, you saw the craziness in his eyes disappear. For a split second, you saw another side of Quandale. Not the crazy and devious side, but something else. Something different. He looked captivated by the femboy sitting at his feet. For once in his whole life, Quandale felt genuine adoration.
After giving you a soft smile, Quandale threw Nikita on the snow. He grabbed a clump of your blonde hair and put them onto your nose.
“You know what this means, Artyom!?” He said, smirking down at you. You looked up at him with a sense of security, slightly shaking your head. “You are now my well behaved and submissive femboy, Artyom.”
And he was right. Nikita was sobbing and crying all the time.
Artyom Anoufriev? No, Artyom Dingle. Yeah, that sounded right. Artyom Dingle.