make-up test

Toby was ecstatic. He lived on shit like this. Filthy, despicable depravity rubbed him in all the right ways, always had. He'd gotten bored earlier, Cecil's aggression too predictable, tame within that, simple and human. How he was now, however, fucking christ. Maybe there was something special about him. It was strikingly clear to Toby that Cecil didn't think of himself as anything monstrous. If he wasn't about to get fucked until he passed out, he wouldn't have been able to stop laughing. That was beautiful, wasn't it? Cecil was at his most beautiful like this, not in the posed magazine shots and friendly settings, not as a 'domesticated' wild animal.

Toby melted at being touched, arousal catching up with his broken body, red spreading across his cheeks and down his chest. He was a bit clammy otherwise from his near-death, and still fully bloody, but who cared anymore? Cecil enjoyed it, because he was gross, they both were. It was fantastic. Toby shivered from delight and nausea, head spinning again. Despite the forcefulness, he opened his mouth for Cecil very welcomingly, moaning shamelessly, feeling all sorts of dirty and used.

"I never said I wasn't. Takes one to know one. You've gotten really good at justifications, haven't you?" Toby said, sweetly, voice shaky. Further color came back to his sickly skin, intently watching what Cecil was doing. "God, yes," he whispered. He wanted everything about this.

Nothing gentle here. It hurt, at first, making Toby flinch and squirm, his expression faltering. He cried out and let his fingers dig into Cecil's back. He felt nice. The rest of it started to feel nice, too. It didn't matter how much his head was pounding, because his heart was absolutely outdoing that. Toby wrapped his legs around Cecil's waist, pulling him closer, more stuffed in, greedy for his cock and heat. Obsession radiated in his dilated eyes. He mumbled a long string of ugly, lustful things between loud noises. Whatever requests he may have had, he was sure Cecil was just going to do what he pleased, and that only added to the desire.

He hadn't quite shut up, no, but there was at least a display of submissiveness put on for Cecil's benefit. It was true that he was weak, and vulnerable, a quarter of the way healed, and now receiving more abuse to his body- even if it was equally pleasurable. It was also true that Toby was exactly where he wanted to be. Everyone won here, didn't they?

Cecil was carnal fucking garbage, and Toby loved that. It made him feel all the more spite for the man's outward image, clashing in such swoonworthy ways. Didn't he know how lucky he was, being like this, a proper monster? He should revel in it. This was a good start. Toby was happy to help, as always.

He wailed when his sensitive wound was assaulted again, mental processes coming to a stuttering stop. His toes curled and he squeezed around Cecil. Any thoughts that tried to form crashed and burned, so he was nothing but physical reactions and needfulness, lips parted, gasps and half-sobs without tears tumbling out, no pause or chance to breathe.

His insides felt hot and full. Cecil spilling his cum in him made Toby follow along quickly, overwhelmed and affectionate, cheeks burning, drooling. Seeing stars. Fuck, he was still hard. Of course he was, how couldn't he have been, in this situation? He gave a tiny, fluttering sigh when Cecil's cum dripped down his inner thighs. He was sore and sticky and good, it was very fulfilling.

When he was set down, there was a sense of being fragile, wrecked, and pretty in that. He tipped his head up to Cecil obligingly, showing himself off, what had been done to him, like a prize toy. He was playing the part now, that is. He'd been on the other side of things more times than he could count, knew the taste of power, control, disturbing sexual objectification. It's how he could be so certain Cecil was having fun. He looked at the man from under his lashes and suckled at the tip of his cock, tasting. He didn't lick away what had gotten on his lips, or dribbled down his chin. That was how Cecil wanted to see him, and he liked being unclean like this.

Toby closed his eyes and kissed Cecil, undeniably adoring. Then, he got skullfucked. Searing pain made his vision go white and wonky, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, then splashing out onto him, drenching. He couldn't hear if he was screaming or not. His body was having violent spasms, yet wanting this to go further, and he reached another orgasm while completely out of it and mutilated.

Toby was intimately familiar with how both men and monsters worked. This was all so easy. Predictable, but lovable. He couldn't be bored with true classics, especially not when they were spiced up with graphic brutality. He was getting mangled to hell and back, and it had gone so far that his powers were fixing certain parts of him up faster. He couldn't appreciate this level of fucking trash if he were in a vegetive state, could he now? Oh, he was never gonna let Cecil just pretend this didn't happen, that was for sure- nor allow complaints over any future continued obsession and stalking. Jackass.

Fuck. Just cum and gore everywhere, sinking into his head and hair, all over his skin. Somebody call the kink police. Toby got a mouthful of Cecil and his own blood next. He gagged a bit, drooling a damn lot, and tried to remember when the last time he'd had sex like this had been. Mm. There'd been a cannibalism incident, that was a real good time. Ah, he'd be happy for months, looking back on his Cecil encounter when in need of material to get off to. It'd be his new go-to. Ten out of ten, would get skullfucked again.

He shut his eyes as his face was coated with more cum, some even getting in his eyelashes. Obscene. He was always right about these things, and even better at making them shine. Cecil had so much potential-- though for now, it seemed like they were done. Toby took short, labored breaths, his full body shuddering beginning to settle down. He finally got the shower he asked for. He pulled his knees to his chest, simply basking in the afterglow and water.

Once Cecil left, Toby struggled to stand or tell directions apart, but managed. He did what he knew was smart, despite how enjoyable being disgusting and having lingering traces of Cecil was, and cleaned up.

He stepped out, now only dripping water, and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked too human then, but at least he remained debauched, smelling and tasting like sex. Promiscuous. His cheeks glowed pink in his daze. He begrudgingly rinsed out his mouth, then stole and used Cecil's toothbrush- ha, even if he was washing away one trace of him, he could just replace it with another.

Toby squinted at Cecil on the bed for a moment before shrugging and digging through his closet, finding some boxers (and a soft knit hat, for obvious reasons) to put on, not bothering with a shirt. He went and found his glasses, rinsing them off in the sink. They had in fact cracked, but it wasn't that bad. He set them on his head. He'd set down his phone safely, and snagged it again.

He padded back to Cecil's bed and plopped onto it softly, sitting cross legged. He casually took a picture- or a few pictures- of the demon celebrity. "So d'you skullfuck every stalker, or am I a special girl?"

Toby had been imagining he was going to be shoved off the bed, not grabbed and all… close like this. He shifted his hips experimentally, peering at Cecil with round, curious eyes. He supposed the ridiculous amount of sexting had to be connected to a high sex drive, he was just waiting for Cecil to really grasp who he was grinding against and getting hard over. Maybe that wasn't happening. The man was rather good with denial.

Toby pressed himself to Cecil, lips and tongues fitting together well, eager. He watched, flushed and uncaring in the moment, when his phone was snatched and thrown. He didn't need it, since he had his object of obsession touching him, and it'd be fine, as he always pimped out his electronics excessively. He quietly huffed a laugh and kissed Cecil's nose. He had more pictures too, though he would've liked some that were purely his own, rather than taken from various other sources. Beggars can't be choosers, though.

Toby frowned and tried to get the hat and his glasses back, but then the angle switched, and he gave up with a mildly annoyed expression. He leaned in to examine Cecil absently, ash blond hair sticking up everywhere, defiant. "I'm fine with not having human status. I dislike humans." He was human.

He eyed Cecil's hands on his thighs pointedly, swallowing lightly. His own fingers drifted over Cecil's, squeezing, encouraging him to have a tighter grip. "…Uh. You aren't really giving 'fuck off' messages," he mumbled, "more like, 'I'm gonna fuck you again'."

Then, with a thoughtful hum, "Yes. You'd be correct in that. Went out of your way to win the stalker lottery, put an active effort into securing a prize with no returns. Have fun with that."

"I am human," Toby agreed with a bitter, yet somehow perky smile, just at the edges of self mocking. He could've denied it, but there was a time and place. He laughed when he was flipped over, stretching out like a cat for Cecil's viewing pleasure. He felt Cecil's magic continue to eat at him, and shivered. Violation on multiple levels, oh, he could respect that. He shared similar tactics.

He had to swallow down another giggle. Cecil was looking at him like he thought he knew something, and was awfully smug about that. His next words… Toby could read between the lines, the way he sounded things out. The undertone of narcissism. Adorable fucking idiot! The world revolved around him, didn't it? Of course, of course. Sure, Toby was obsessed with him. Toby was obsessed with a lot of shit, that's how he functioned.

Cecil… took him really seriously, when that ego was involved. His stalker. His. Took that to heart. Toby knew personal shit about the majority of his coworkers, and anyone who caught his fancy. Cecil may have been in a spotlight due to how much dirt he had, and the way he reacted to it, but he didn't start special in Toby's mind. He was earning it now, and Toby liked to use his free time for intimate matters like this, but…

Cecil probably loved that. Assuming he existed purely to pine for him, and nothing else. Even if it rubbed him the wrong way, it fed him. He liked being important, better, and deciding Toby felt a normal person's desperation towards him. Toby didn't have those kinds of standards and functions.

"You're easy to latch on to, even easier to fall off the deep end with, like an addiction shared between lovers," Toby managed with a sharp clarity (paired with some needlessly cryptic, vaguely creepy wording, as his types were prone to), before Cecil got his boxers off and started jacking him off. Then, the involuntary noises dragged out of him made him unable to add more. Instead, he sank into the bed, lip bitten, grin trembling.