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Dwight hauls himself over the ledge of the farmhouse in coldwind, skin prickling on the back of his neck. It was quite a jump, and he wasn’t sure if he could make it without breaking an ankle. Still, it’d waste a lot of time going back into the house and down the stairs—he freezes as the scraping of a thick, metal greatsword screeches across the old wood, cracking it underneath the weight.
He hadn’t seen the killer yet this round, but he knew.
Pyramid Head. The executioner.
Someone Dwight really didn’t want to meet. Biting the inside of his cheek he takes a leap of faith and manages to land on his feet, vision blurring with tears as pain radiates up his ankles. “Shit.” He croaks out, wiping the tears away as he stumbles. It hurts to walk. He wants to sit down—but a glance back up at the farmhouse balcony, reveals that massive figure of the killer. He couldn’t stick around.
Trying to remain calm, Dwight limps as quickly as he can away, using the cornfield and barrels as cover. It wouldn’t help much with Pyramid Head being 7 feet tall, but shit. Anything to keep his blood from christening that blade, even if just for a moment.
Finally he makes it to the barn, creeping inside. The generator is already finished, so no one would be coming back through here. Dwight can hear the Executioner’s heavy boots crunching over the dusty ground behind him, so he doesn’t have a lot of time.
There are lockers, but Pyramid Head is known for checking those. He could hide behind a barrel, or underneath the tractor—ah, but if he’s caught, there’s no way he’s escaping. Dwight exhales shakily as he moves into the pigpen, avoiding the guts on the floor. There’s no door in here, but there is something that looks like it could be a vault point, or at least an escape route, if Dwight was desperate enough.
And he was.
He pulls a board off the wall, the rotting wood coming free easily. The other boards were not so rotten, but… it’d be fine. He was skinny enough. Plus, those footsteps were rapidly approaching, the shriek of barbed wire on the floor making the decision for Dwight.
He couldn’t go back the way he came if Pyramid Head had left welts of Torment everywhere. Gritting his teeth, Dwight squeezes his arms through, then his head. He sighs in relief as his shoulders pass through, and begins to wiggle forward. For a moment he thinks he’ll make it, however uncomfortable the wood digging into his belly is—and then his hips get caught.
“H-huh? No, no,” Dwight yelps, digging his nails into the wood and pushing with all his might; he doesn’t budge. Despite knowing Pyramid Head is coming, he tries to scramble backward, just to get his shoulders caught too. “Nnnooo,” the pitiful noise leaves his lips just as Pyramid Head enters the pig pen, already furious that the Condemned had fled from him.
Dwight squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard. He was terrified of being cut in half, and it’d be so easy. Not a normal mori, but— “Pl-please help,” he gasps, his words muffled as he struggles, “I won’t run, I promise! Please, just don’t kill me like this.”
It’d be so humiliating. It’d hurt so much. To have his lower half severed by a rusted sword, intestines spilling out over the ground… left to hang there … He shakes, sniffling softly.
Pyramid Head was not known for his mercy.
Still, as he approaches, he finds himself intrigued by the entire situation. Not many survivors were foolish enough to test the boundaries of the game they play, and it seems the entity herself was punishing this Condemned for his.
It was only fitting that Pyramid Head gave him a special sort of punishment, too. After all, the Condemned had asked him not to kill him .
Pyramid Head reaches forward, large hands gripping the edge of Dwight’s jeans. Dwight lets out a confused warble, about to speak when they’re simply ripped from his body, the fabric tearing as if it were paper.
“W-wait! You—you can’t do that,” it's not a part of the game! Dwight’s words fall on deaf ears as Pyramid head presses his fingers into soft flesh, calluses rough against Dwight’s thighs. He would do. Pyramid Head already knew he would enjoy this greatly .
He shifts his cloth, letting his massive dick free. It’s not wet or anything, but even if he does meet resistance it’s not like he had something to use to help the process. The killer ruts up against Dwight at first, running his dick between flailing thighs. Dwight shudders at the sensation of Pyramid Head’s cock brushing his, attempting to kick back to stop him.
Both large hands wrap around his hips, hauling his legs apart with ease. They weren’t even on the ground at this point, Dwight trapped in a cage of his own design.
Pyramid Head’s massive tip settles at his victim’s fluttering entrance, and then he snaps his hips forward. Dwight howls, even though it only went in about two inches. The burn is indescribable, agony roaring up his spine. Dwight arches his back, his attempt to escape futile as Pyramid Head thrusts in again, forcing himself in another few inches.
Dwight was excruciatingly tight around the killer’s cock and uncomfortably warm, but this was a sensation Pyramid Head had not allowed himself in a long time, so he simply thought this was how it was supposed to feel. He stuffs himself in Dwight’s guts until they physically can’t take any more, no matter how hard he tries. It just earns more watery pleas and pained sobs.
With an annoyed grunt, Pyramid Head pulls out and fucks back in, rolling his hips rather slowly as Dwight’s taut hole slowly loosens up. He was only able to fit about half of himself inside, but it would do.
One of his hands slides upward, holding Dwight’s belly for support. As a result, though, he can feel every single thrust of his cock into the tiny man’s belly. A low moan rumbles in his throat as he begins to stroke what can’t fit, saliva welling in his mouth.
This was an animalistic feeling, feral, that Pyramid Head had sworn off long ago. Dwight had ceased his pitiful attempts to escape, his ass spasming around the massive dick inside him. This made things much easier for the killer as he picked up his pace, balls bruising Dwight’s own as they swung forward, smacking together.
“Ah—it h-hurts,” Dwight complains weakly, hoping to hell nobody finds him like this. Tears stream down his face as he tries to bite down the noises bubbling in his throat, the heat in his belly that formed the moment Pyramid Head had ripped his jeans off.
The killer was powerful. Big. Muscular. He had crushed Dwight more than once, and Dwight had always been so scared , and he was still scared, but there was no denying he found this so stupidly hot it was hard to think. If only it didn’t hurt so much.
Pyramid Head’s large palm covers the expanse of Dwight’s scarred, pale belly, supporting his lower half as he brutalizes him. Dwight squirms as the killer’s thrusts grow more sloppy, his balls tightening up into himself.
Pyramid head pants heavily behind the giant mask upon his face, hips stuttering as he struggles to keep the strokes of his hand in time with his thrusts. Dwight’s blood had slicked the way for his dick, and now his own cum would join it: staking his claim. It was an exciting thought, one Pyramid Head hadn’t put much stock in until now.
The Condemned says something, but Pyramid Head isn’t paying attention. He grinds his hips against Dwight’s as he once more tries to fit his entire length in—failing miserably—and his load spills out into Dwight’s belly, coating his insides white.
Dwight groans as Pyramid Head’s cock pulses inside him, each one forcing more liquid into his guts. It’s never ending, especially as Pyramid Head rolls his hips, forcing it in deeper. A sudden wave of nausea rolls over Dwight and he groans, gagging.
The taste of salt on his tongue makes his mind spin. No way. No fucking— He gags again, white liquid splattering from his nose and mouth as he coughs and hacks it up. It’s a miniscule amount compared to what’s in his belly, but the thought makes him nauseous anyway. Dwight whimpers, reaching up to weakly wipe the cum off his lips, only doing well to smear it. Pyramid head’s moans go quiet, his hips stilling.
He still had a task to complete, though he really didn’t feel like it right now. He also didn’t want to leave his Condemned here, lest someone come help him loose. With a growl, Pyramid Head grips the topmost board keeping Dwight penned in and rips it from the wall with ease. Instantly, Dwight tries to free himself, but Pyramid Head is much too quick. He scoops up the survivor, forcing him back against his bloodsoaked chest. Dwight groans as he sinks down onto the killer’s cock, his own bobbing hard and untouched against his belly, swollen with cum.
“P-put me down,” Dwight pleads, “I’m so full. Oh god.” Each movement Pyramid head makes shifts the cock inside him, hitting parts of him he didn’t know existed. Pyramid Head holds him up by the abdomen, keeping him in place with one hand while he digs his dull nails into the man’s seemingly ironclad skin.
Pyramid Head looks up and finds some rope hanging from the ceiling; he rips it down with enough force to dislodge some of the upper floor’s planks. Dwight screams and cowers against the killer’s chest, as if getting domed by some rotting wood would be worse than whatever Pyramid Head had cooked up for him.
With a grunt of satisfaction, the Executioner manhandles Dwight’s arms around his neck, tying them in place with a knot so tight Dwight thought the circulation would be cut off. He shivers and trembles, groaning in discomfort as Pyramid Head leans over to pick up his blade off the floor.
“Nhhh… I won’t–I won’t try to get away, okay? Just please put me down ,” Dwight begs, flinching away from the blade as Pyramid Head holds it in two hands. If he wanted, he really could just slice Dwight in half right here. Pyramid Head grunts, rolling his hips again. Testing the limits.
Dwight squeals, arching off of the Executioner’s chest as his toes curl. He wasn’t going to fall, not like this. Pyramid Head’s cock speared him through, giving enough support to trap him in place. “Oh sh-shit you’re so big,” It was different now that he could look down and see the effect that the killer was having on his body; equal parts horrific and arousing.
Dwight was so sick in the head.
The killer remains mute and stoic as he reorients himself, prepared to go slaughter Dwight’s friends–with him as a fleshlight.
The rest of the trial is a blur–or maybe Dwight blocked it all out. He knows Pyramid Head won, though. The killer’s pride radiated off of him. Dwight expected to be killed–to have the game end–but he somehow ended up in Midwich Elementary, Pyramid Head’s awful home. Every so often a tornado siren howls nearby, but Dwight’s less focused on that and more on the tongue sliding across his skin.
“Hhah… That feels weird,” he groans as the Executioner’s long organ laps at the blood on his exposed belly, wet and warm across his nipples. His saliva is dark, leaving trails behind more noticeable than what should’ve been. Pyramid Head was toying with him, flipping him over, twisting him around: exploring. Cum crusts his thighs, the white liquid still leaking from his slightly gaped hole.
It takes him a few moments to realize that Pyramid Head was cleaning him up; removing the sweat and blood and cum from his skin. Dwight woozily grips onto Pyramid Head’s massive thighs, using them for support as he’s flipped over onto his belly. The massive killer’s tongue runs along his balls, curling around his dick, which feels and looks miniscule in comparison.
Still, Dwight finds himself bucking his hips into the curling wet heat, moaning in pleasure. Pyramid Head’s tongue tightens, the tip flicking over Dwight’s swollen cockhead, encouraging liquid from it. Salty, sweet, and just as addicting as the tiny noises his Condemned made as he was fucking him.
The survivor’s cries grow louder as he rapidly approaches his own release, finally being relieved of the uncomfortable throbbing in his belly. His nails dig hard into Pyramid Head’s legs, doing no damage but leaving a pressure that makes the killer’s heart beat faster. Dwight spasms, full belly clenching as he cums–hard. His seed leaks out over the Executioner’s tongue, who drinks it up as if it were sweet nectar.
“Mmmn…” Dwight can feel his muscles unwillingly relaxing, his mind foggy. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically. He was not very strong in the first place, and Pyramid Head seemed to want to drain him of all of that strength. Especially as his tongue continues to explore, drifting up from his cock to his awaiting hole, licking his thighs clean before burrowing into his guts.
This was a bit easier to manage, since Pyramid Head’s tongue was thinner, soft in comparison to the rock-hard cock that was about two inches from Dwight’s flushed face. His head droops and he uses Pyramid Head’s leg for support as he twitches and gasps, each stroke of the killer’s tongue across his sensitive insides sending another wave of overstimulated pleasure through his body.
Pyramid Head shoves it as deep as he can get it to go, making sure each part of Dwight’s insides are thoroughly cleaned before pulling back, giving a few swipes over his rim. Regrettably, Pyramid Head finds himself doing it all again. He had intended to pull away, to finally let this foolish game he was playing end, but he just couldn’t .
Pulling away meant he would have to kill his Condemned, and though the thought was enticing, this was even more so. Even as Dwight’s twitches grow further and further apart, the Executioner continues to lick and suck, drinking in whatever that flavor was that left him feeling so… excited .
He finally flips Dwight back over as if he were a frog in the hands of a child, wrapping a calloused hand around the survivor’s jaw. His eyes are hazy, half-lidded. Watery. Pyramid Head’s cum still clings to his lips, cresting his nostrils… and he looked so, so pretty. A growl of approval rumbles in the killer’s throat as he presses Dwight against his bloodied chest.
As long as it doesn’t make the entity too angry, he supposed that his own game with this little creature could last a little bit longer. Just… just for a little bit.