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Ultimate Assassin’s Ground
His legs ache from running too much. His body shaking all over, unable to keep a balance on his own footing. All odds are against him and it doesn't help that the killer has its eyes marked on him.
Why did he have to be left as the last man standing?
This isn't the first time a killer spotted him last and/or kept him for last during a match, but this one is different. Way different than the other ones that came to enjoy his isolated panic to survive and not let the team down. As a matter of fact, this killer already spotted him at the beginning of the match. The first one that the killer saw yet left spared by unknown means.
This killer was an old friend of his. A fellow admin like him, someone who used to be his colleague back at Roblox HQ. He could almost recognize him if it weren't for those crazed eyes looking at him like a piece of meat.
His body shakes even more when he recalls the gaze he gave him.
.
.
Dread filled his lungs. He's effectively backed up the corner, pinned halfway to the floor and the decrepit wall. He's trapped in the big dojo with the killer.
His eyes glance to his right, the banhammer making sure he can't find an escape on that spot. His eyes then glanced to the left, an arm in his way to escape. He's completely helpless right now.
“D-doombringer.” He attempts to sound unaffected by the situation he's put in. An obvious fail by how much he's sweating and the way his voice struggles to keep its tone. He's painfully terrified, his heart might as well leap out his pounding ribcage.
“Builderman,” a guttural growl leaves the former(?) admin’s lips. His eyes still hold that same crazed look that he gave Builderman at the beginning of the match, “it's been a long time since I've seen you, old friend.”
Doombringer brings his face down to the crook of the head admin's neck, eliciting a startled gasp from him.
Hands snapped around the killer's torso out of instinct. “What are you doing?” he questions, his mind racing with confusion and bewilderment at the odd behavior.
To make matters worse for Builderman, Doombringer took a sharp inhale of scent, breathing in the mud and blood that made its home with his figure. The gesture was jarring enough to cause the head admin to let out another gasp.
“Stop that!” His hands let go of the killer's torso in favor of pushing him off him. A futile attempt considering the massive size difference and muscle gap between the two of them. Nonetheless, the killer was so distracted by sniffing the survivor's scent that he was slightly pushed back by the force of it.
It isn't a new thing for Builderman to encounter weird killers that do strange things to assess their victims in matches- see Noli towards 007n7 for an example -but this was completely new to him specifically because instead of his fellow survivors being subjected to this, it's him this time. And unlike the other times where someone was around to apprehend the killer in either stunning them or distracting them by being a nuisance that they change targets, Builderman is completely alone.
Doombringer’s eyes narrowed at the head admin's struggle to his action. A snarl formed on his lips, replacing the cocky smile he had worn during his whole time in this match.
Big mistake.
Before the support can even assess what the killer plans to do next, a hand grabbed him on his entire face before it roughly slammed his head against the hard wall of the dojo. A sickening crack echoes throughout the otherwise empty place.
His head was slammed not once, not twice, but three times in a row that he's sure his health is at 5 percent now.
Disoriented, dizzy, and throbbing from the rough handling to his head, Builderman was unable to do anything but allow Doombringer to maneuver him however he wanted him to.
His hard cap was snatched off his head, leaving his bloody head on full display for the killer to see it all. A stuttering breath whispers to his dwindling consciousness, “You're always such a tease to me.”
His upper clothes were torn to shreds, exposing his lean yet stocky build beneath. Doombringer continues to talk to him despite his inability to reciprocate the conversation.
“Even when we were working together at Roblox HQ, you would always be prancing around the place like a whore staking out a poor bastard's heart for a quick fuck.”
Hands came forward and his small breasts were fondled harshly, a hiss of displeasure escaped his gaping mouth.
Inside his struggling mind to stay afloat, a string of protests wanted to defend himself that he was merely working at the place and had no intention of acting out like a whore. Unfortunately, his body is going in and out of it, unable to verbalize his defense to his old friend.
“Especially Shedletsky,” The killer hissed out the name with venom lacing his tone. It looks like the name itself is a curse to Doombringer. Perhaps he even shares the same hatred as 1x when it came to the fried chicken enjoyer, “That poor sod was just drooling every time you came over to assess his work. Truly a dirty whore pretending to be some kind of pristine worker.”
A hand slapped his head to the side, forcing him out of his drowsy state and focusing on where he is right now. The match has yet to end. There's so much time left. All of his thoughts of protests pushed through the front of his head. It made his mind and cheek throb in ache.
“S-stop… I'm not… n-not a who’e..!”
A bellowing laugh shuts him up real quick. It's mocking him, defying what he states about himself. The former admin refuses to believe him.
“You’re nothing but a lying whore. Even back then, you would lie through your teeth so you could avoid any advances towards you when someone you deem unattractive comes to you for sex,” Those hands return to his breasts to roughly pull and squeeze them down to bits causing Builderman to scream from the pressure that his chest is experiencing. “You're a picky whore but that doesn't make you any less of a slut, does it.”
After a couple of painful tugs on his breast and nipples, Doombringer removed his hands from the support’s chest to rip his black pants off, tearing the fabric with ease like a piece of paper.
Panic and adrenaline shot up Builderman's entire figure, allowing him to fight back once more even if weaker than before.
“Doom— Doom, I wasn't teasing anyone! I wasn't. Please believe me.”
His panties were ripped to the side, the noise making goosebumps twitch his parts in places he doesn't want it to.
A little bit of slick has slipped out of his cunt from the small stimulation that his breasts have endured. Just a little droplet to let the other admin know that Builderman enjoyed his fondling.
“If you were a pristine man like you claimed yourself to be, you wouldn't have been aroused by what I did to your tits.”
Builderman shakes his head in rejection to the claim. His body merely acted out of natural responses and yet, Doombringer seems to be adamant of saying otherwise.
He didn't even get to say another defense to his stance. Not when Doombringer had his opportunity to shove a hand to those moist folds. His middle and index finger spread those fat lips apart, forcing cold air to breeze through his leaking hole.
“Doombringer!”
Those fingers continued to open and close his folds, playing with his cunt like some sort of game to tease and maybe, that's exactly how Doombringer sees it.
“I catched a glimpse of your cunt one time,” Doombringer admits to the head admin. His voice lowers like a whisper, like he's telling a secret that he doesn't want anybody else to hear, “Did you know what went through my mind that day?”
Builderman shakes his head. He doesn't know what went through this man's mind and he most certainly doesn't want to know either. Either way, Doombringer continues to express his thoughts that day to the man he catched a glimpse of.
“You didn’t deserve the position that you've gotten. Not when the person running the place is nothing but someone who likes to pretend he's the ideal man of Robloxia.”
A finger finally pushed inside his soaking wet cunt. The intrusion almost felt nothing because of how slick he is. It made him dizzy anyway.
Builderman went static with shock. The situation of his position finally caught up to him fully. He's helpless against his former friend.
The first finger moved inside of him experimentally, testing the waters and how his hips would twitch from it. His hole clench and unclench with each pull and push done to it. The motion of Doombringer's finger urges more slick to pour out, wet noises filtering the room along with his gasps and whines.
“This is wrong…!” He squeaks in between his moans. His eyes became blurry with tears that had slowly formed. His hands came together to grab Doombringer's wrist and push it off his cunt.
It didn't go anywhere.
“This is more than what you think. This is retribution for all the false ideology you fed to the people.”
The finger leaves his hole with a wet pop. A lewd string of slick connecting from his cunt to the finger trails behind. The sight is erotic. His face flooded with shame. Doombringer's face lit up in joy.
The finger is quickly replaced by the middle and ring finger, scissoring Builderman now. The head admin threw his head back as the pads found his g-spot in quick succession.
His voice shrills up in pitch as the pumps go faster and faster by the second it goes.
His hips are twitching, body wriggling to escape the onslaught of pleasure that he's forced to feel. He doesn't want to prove Doombringer right. He's failing miserably in doing so.
“Please, please, you're going too fast!” He mewls, his hands trying to budge the arm by the wrist to make the fingers leave his cunt. Doombringer retaliates by shoving his fingers as deep as he could. Another loud moan punches out of the survivor’s lips.
The tears that gathered on his eyes a while ago finally slipped and poured down his face. The pleasure electrifies his whole entirety, it's unbearable.
To say Builderman hasn't been fingering himself when he got here is an understatement. No matter his frustration and the ever growing need to release, Builderman finds himself unable to do it. Maybe that's why he's so overwhelmed right now.
A knot is starting to uncoil in his belly, straightening up and threatening to snap any moment. The killer has yet to cease his ministries to his cunt. Those fingers nudge his walls, flick his insides, and hit the right bundle of nerves that makes him see stars. Cruelly, Doombringer had the audacity to thumb his clit.
“Slow down! Please slow down!”
As if to hear his plea for once, Doombringer pulls away, leaving Builderman gaping from the fingering. A disappointed whine leaves the survivor's lips before he even realizes what noise he just made. He's so close to reaching his high yet Doombringer cruelly denied him of such.
His pitiful whine doesn't go unnoticed by the killer.
“Aw, little whore wants to cum?” Doombringer coos as he lifts the head admin up by the waist and places him over his lap. Strings of slick immediately soaked up his slacks. His own cock has been straining against the confinement of his slacks this whole time.
Builderman shakes his head weakly despite the ever growing need to release all the pent up frustrations that he couldn't before.
Doombringer's pays no mind to it.
“Hump yourself on my leg.” The killer demands, keeping a firm grip on the survivor's waist.
That demand caught Builderman off guard. A flick of revulsion flashes through his slow sobering mind. “W-what? No… no, I won't.”
“That isn't a request, you silly slut.”
slap…!
His cunt has just been spanked over by Doombringer's callus palm. The pain was immediate on his stretched pussy lips.
One look at Doombringer and catching a glimpse of his hand aiming once more to slap his pussy is enough to make the head admin obey to the demand.
Wordlessly, he pressed the surface of his pussy against the rough texture of the slacks. The sensation is already too much for him to handle.
With a hand still keeping him stuck in position, Builderman began to grind his hips, snail trail leaving in his wake. Slowly but surely, his humping began to increase in speed. His pussy twitching uncontrollably as he once again nears his high. That coil is starting to unwind once again.
He's so close. Just one more hump and then-
“That's enough attention for you.” Doombringer growls, easily lifting Builderman's hips up to stop him from going any further. Immediately, his face flushed a deep shade of red after realizing what he had just complied to. He was almost thankful to Doombringer for making him stop.
Lost in his thoughts of shame and guilt, Doombringer starts to undo the belt of his slacks. The sound of his zipper flying open is what brought Builderman back to him.
“No… please. Not…”
His eyes stared at the length that's about to go inside of him. The size is enormous, maybe long enough to reach his womb and break through his stomach.
Builderman had played with toys before, even had a little bit of fun with a couple of men that were brave enough to ask him out but none of them were ever this big.
If he had to guess a measurement, Doombringer is at least 13 inches long with a girth that is bigger than Builderman's own forearm.
“That won't fit! Please! You'll… you'll break me…! I'll die…!”
His hips were forced to come closer to the throbbing hard cock. His pussy hanging above the twitching tip. Another set of tears are starting to form in his eyes. An actual wail is threatening to leave his throat.
Doombringer gave him a look straight to his face. It's the same look that he gave him at the beginning of the match.
His hips were dropped down on the cock. His slick being the only lubricant to aid him in fitting in the large object. A howl of despair and pleasure scores out of his throat, sure to leave his voice broken once the match ends.
Very briefly in his mind, Builderman wonders why this match is taking so long to end.
Inch by inch, his body sinks down on the intrusion to his cunt. His own weight, gravity, and Doombringer's hand working in tandem to make him take it whole.
His legs are shaking so much that his own mind couldn't even fathom to make a run for it when Doombringer lets him go by some kind of luck.
Eventually, Builderman managed to seat halfway through Doombringer's cock. His cervix posed to be a barrier that the killer threatens to break open and take a claim to his womb. Regardless, Builderman managed to fit 8 inches of cock inside of him before being blessedly stopped by his own cervix.
Ruthlessly and without waiting for him to adjust completely, Doombringer began to lift him up. His eyes wide in terror when he's realizing what the former admin was about to do.
“Wait! P-please! Not yet! You're going to- please just wait!”
He gets dropped back down to the length, impaling him once more, cervix getting kissed by the tip. A little spurt of pee dribbles out his cunt.
The action repeats again and again, lifting him up and down the length with zero mercy for his wails to stop and wait for him to adjust. The head of Doombringer's tip knocked over the small jelly-like hole of his cervix, bruising it to forcefully open him up.
His hands clawed the killer's chest. Red lines appeared from where he had clung and scratched. His wails almost overpower the wet slapping of where they are joined together.
“I- yo-you’re ruining me!” He hiccups, choking up on his own drool. It's so hard for him to breathe. Not even the most brutal slashes of another killer was this bad.
He gets killed over and over again by multiple killers that the group have encountered. A snap to his neck, a divorce to his waist and torso, being spiked from beneath, all of them are brutal to keep him awake when everybody else has dozed off in their cabin.
This encounter however will surely leave him unable to withstand people nor the idea of sleeping at all.
Doombringer pushed his hips in a particularly hard thrust at the same time he forced Builderman to shift down his length. The timing of their one-sided rhythm was the final push to receive the entrance of Builderman's womb.
“Now every part of you knows who owns you.”
The killer declares. Builderman never wanted to do anything more than to rip out his organs from the inside out at this very moment.
The timer is going down. The match is ending yet Doombringer continues to take his fill with the support.
His cock rammed again and again to the small space of Builderman's womb. Each push and pull is felt enough that Builderman could throw up from then and there. He almost did if his mind wasn't so scrambled by everything that had happened to him in this match.
0:20.
It's close. He's gonna go back to the cabin.
0:15.
He hears Doombringer talk to him. “I'll leave you a parting gift.” He can't understand him.
0:10.
He squirts without meaning to. His pussy gushing all over the killer's cock, forever marking his mind that he enjoyed his violation for simply having an orgasm.
0:05.
A warm sensation fills him up. He's sure to vomit now.
0:00.
The survivors won.
.
.
.
Builderman hasn't been placed in a match since his encounter with Doombringer. He hasn't been talking to his teammates either.
Where, back then, he would be the one holding meetings and strategizing with the whole team on how to handle their next match. Now he merely fades away in the background, unable to concentrate, unable to think other than the ghostly hands that held his hips.
Shedletsky is the first to notice his change in behavior. Of course he would be the first to see it. Why wouldn't he?
He can't handle looking at the man for too long or else he'll start to feel sick. That proved to be true when Shedletsky knocked on his cabin door to inform him that dinner was ready and he merely slammed the door shut in his face. Ever since then, Dussekar is the one to bring him out of his cabin to eat for dinner.
Every moment that passes by in this place leaves Builderman to replay the encounter again and again. He could only curl up and cry, berating himself that he's a man, he can handle this and move on.
The pain in his chest, the ache in his stomach, and the random bursts of headache that forces him to vomit is nothing but a fleeting moment that he needs to get over.
He'll move on and be back to his old self like usual.
.
.
.
He doesn't move on when a box appears in his room one day with no origin of who left it there. Inside was a single test. He knows what it's for. He doesn't want to know yet his mind begs and plead that he does anyway.
Two lines.
He ran to Shedletsky’s cabin with a sob lodged in his throat.
He can't move on.