Questions and Answers

Please pretty please write a story where a girl is tied up and left to be used by whoever or something

Girl exhaled like an animal when it realizes the trap has been sprung, or like an old woman giving up the ghost. Whatshisname grunted in satisfaction, noting that exhalation was now the only movement his handiwork allowed. He stood and looked —first east and then west— down the track.

Whatshisname didn’t have a train schedule, but somehow felt this was an unnecessary detail best left to simpler minds. He knew a few things with bedrock certainty, among them the fact that a pretty girl tied to the tracks will always attract a train. Being a minor, mustache-twirling icon in a dated misogynist fantasy, he knew there was just something about a damsel and distress that would always bring them together. He was but an instrument of fate, and not even an interesting one. As rapacious, murderous, sex-fiends went, he was a bit of an oboe.

But then again, it was terribly hot for a Canadian summer, and there was a magazine article he’d been meaning to read at home, and, well, she wasn’t that pretty, was she? If some upstanding Mountie simpleton were to meander past and set her free, sure, it would be a bit of a disappointment, but then, that’s life, isn’t it? How must one carry on, if not by stepping past one’s squandered hours to save oneself from squandered days? Plus, you know… he just wasn’t one for sweating.

So he slithered away as slithering things are wont, and thus failed to hear the approach of Whoever and Something.

Whoever was uninteresting and indistinct, a faceless man whose only discernible personality trait was confidence and whose defining physical characteristic was the source of said confidence. Something was a slavering hellbeast with claws that dripped the blood of virgins unborn and whose teeth were crusted with the meat of sundered virtue, to a periodontally disturbing degree.

“Holy shit,” said Something, spying the Girl’s still form at the crossing ahead. “I was just thinking ‘I’m starving’, and not in that way that you always think it when you’re hungry, but like, in that special way where it’s a distinct hunger that you’re going to have to deal with immediately or sooner? So, yeah… I think it, and nature provides!”

“Can’t I fuck her first?” asked Whoever, coming to an abrupt halt a few yards from where Girl rested. “Really, I just— come on. You know I’m a faceless rapist. That’s what I do. If you eat half the girl before I get to her every time, I’m not a faceless rapist… I’m just a sad guy playing with someone’s dinner. I don’t deserve that.”

“Jesus. Every time,” muttered Something. He belched and settled himself into repose next to his prize. Her mouth was covered by a gag, but Girl’s eyes spoke extensively of her terror, revulsion, and rather unexpectedly… curiosity. He smiled and waved to Whoever.

“Alright then, get over here and fuck the bitch,” he said with a tired sigh. “Just don’t cum in her. Taints the meat.”

“Don’t be crass,” said Whoever as he stroked his absurd penis to life. It began to vibrate. “Also, try and stop me.”

Eventually, the train came, too.