Chapter Text
Of course you’re not scared. You and your buddies do a Halloween dare every year. It’s tradition.
You stand before the open door of the darkened pizza joint, your feet glued to the threshold. The blackness inside seems too thick to be real. You keep thinking that you hear something humming softly in the darkness, like a music box that hasn’t been wound up all the way.
...Okay, you’re scared, but that’s the point. If you didn’t want to be scared, you and your friends would dare each other to visit ice cream shops in the daytime, not creepy kids-themed party restaurants at night. Those chills running down your spine are part of the Halloween fun. You’re supposed to have a bad feeling about this. You’re supposed to squirm a little.
You take a deep breath. Summoning your resolve, you step onto the dark, checkered floor of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, and the darkness seems to swallow you immediately. You’re supposed to be scared, but what you’re not supposed to do is run home crying before you’ve even through the door.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the deep, sucking darkness. You bump into a couple tables before that happens, leaving bruises on your hips. Each time, you bite your lip to keep from cursing and breaking the silence. Something about this place makes you reluctant to speak. It’s dead quiet here. The only noise is that soft, haunting chime of music, right on the edge of audible so you’re not sure if it’s real or not.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. You’ll need photos for proof after all. As you flick it on, the blinding light from your phone screen makes you flinch. It feels uncomfortably conspicuous to be holding this bright glowing square near your chest. The glare has left you nightblind, but your body is fully illuminated in the darkness. Like a target.
You push the thought aside and lift your phone, snapping a picture of the party tables. The flash makes you flinch again. There’s still a song playing somewhere, a distant chime. You’re becoming more convinced that it’s real, and that it’s nearby. For some reason, it unsettles you more than the darkness.
It’s a few minutes before you realize you’ve been standing in the same place, holding up your phone and staring numbly past it without really looking. You shake your head. The repetitive notes of distant music are starting to blur together. You’ve got your proof, but maybe you need more pictures...
The music hums.
...You’d better go a little further. You wouldn’t want anyone to think you just poked your head in and walked back out. Besides, maybe you can get further away from that soft, creeping music. It’s starting to stick in your head.
Party tables and balloons pass you by as you move deeper into the darkened building. You can barely hear the music anymore, but it still echoes softly in your head. The black and white checkered floor makes a dizzying pattern. Your feet are moving almost automatically, carrying you down a darkened hall as if they know where they’re taking you.
There’s a single light in the hall, beside the restrooms. You glimpse a poster illuminated by the flickering glow, and for a moment, curiosity pulls your footsteps to a stop. History of Fazbear’s Pizza, says the colorful sign. Four smiling characters dance atop a block of text, a singing bear and a purple rabbit and a pizza-eating chicken and a fox wearing an eyepatch and a hook hand.
Their cartoon eyes seem to follow you no matter which way you crane your head. You can’t look away from those big sweet smiles long enough to read the text. With a shudder, you tear your gaze away and stride down the hall.
The hall is utterly silent, but the music is stuck in your head. There’s a dark, open door at the end of the hall, and your legs carry you towards it.
You can feel something waiting in the darkness. The deep thumps of your heartbeat almost drown out the sleepy music in your head as your steps carry you through the doorway. It’s too dark to see. You come to a stop, and your hand slips into your pocket, finding your phone, almost against your will. Part of you doesn’t want to see what’s in this room. Part of you doesn’t want to know—
Your phone light clicks on.
Ragged, half-destroyed remains of animatronic characters litter the floor like corpses. These were once the characters from the colorful poster, you can tell, but they’ve been mutilated almost beyond recognition The rabbit’s face is entirely gone, bare red lights looming in a gaping wire-filled hole. You can see the chicken collapsed in the corner, the bear lying on its side with its jointed limbs not connected right.
Every one of those mechanical, broken eyes are looking at you.
You try to run. Your legs are frozen. Your body sways lazily in place, not responding to your panic. The butchered animatronics stare at you silently, their eyes shifting slightly to follow your swaying. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re trapped in here.
You can’t hear the music anymore, but it’s still playing, you know it’s still playing, it won’t leave your head.
Something is breathing behind you.
You can’t move. The slow, repeating music won’t let you. You can hear the creak of old, tortured robotics, the soft thumps of footsteps. A colorful cartoon face flashes through your memory; a rusty red fox with an eyepatch and a bright smile. You realize there are only three animatronics on the floor in front of you.
Something reaches around your body, slow and creaking, sliding forward like a snake. Your chest is heaving as your gaze is drawn down. A hook looms in front of your chest, attached to an old tattered arm. The plastic and fur is torn away in places, showing metal bars like a skeleton. It lingers in front of your chest, hook glinting dully in the light of your phone, as though it isn’t used to being animated.
Your heart is about to pound out of your chest.
The hook drifts lower, and suddenly it snaps down. You freeze in panic when it catches on the front of your jeans.
“Ah—”
A low noise like a robotic growl rumbles behind you. The hook rips into your jeans, the sharp tip barely skimming your skin as it shreds open your pants. You gulp in a breath of panic and drop your phone as you make a grab for your ruined jeans before they can fall down your legs. Your heart is pounding, your knees shaking, your slick pussy exposed to the stale air.
...When did you get so wet? It’s soaking your thighs.
Something looms beside your face, something robotic and big. You can barely see it in the darkness, but you can make out the silhouette of a long muzzle with too many teeth, nearly pressed against your cheek. Those jaws are big enough to crush your head if they wanted. Your heart pounds, but you can’t move. You can’t even turn your head.
The big hook suddenly loops around your thigh, and a robotic hand grabs your other leg. Before you can gasp, you’re hoisted off the ground and pulled back against a broad, robotic chest. The fox’s hand and hook are under your knees, keeping them pulled up to your chest, holding your legs open. You grab the powerful arms for support, your chest heaving. Even if you could convince your body to move, you’re now suspended helplessly in its grip. That big, hungry fox face is still looming beside your head, one glinting eye fixed on your face, and holy shit you can hear it breathing.
Your tattered jeans and underwear hang open, leaving your pussy exposed. It’s already dripping wet and ready to be played with, like a good toy should be, you think dizzily. You’re trying to think straight but that damn music is still echoing in your head, soothing you into a pliant, woozy trance. All you can do is lie helplessly in the animatronic’s hold, your legs held open by a vise-like grip, slickness dripping from your pussy onto the checkered floor.
The big, robotic fox lowers your body, and something that feels awfully like a cock bumps against you.
It must be some perverted silicone attachment, you think desperately. God knows why this ancient animatronic has one, but it must be big fat dildo, wobbling as it slides over your flushed cunt. You try to squirm away from the eager nudges of that huge phallus, but you can’t. You’re just as limp as the mangled animatronics on the floor, their bulging eyes staring up at you.
The pointed head of that thick, rubbery phallus catches on your slick pussy. You clench against it in panic, letting out a choked gasp. No—
The fox’s robotic arms lower you slowly, and the tapered, bestial shaft starts to push up against your waiting pussy. You let out a scared whine, utterly unable to move as it presses harder and harder, demanding entrance.
No...! You think the word, but your body won’t respond. You can’t move.
The thick head slips into your helpless pussy, stretching you open. You gasp, and then a shuddering groan spills out of you. For a moment, your senses are overwhelmed by throbbing, submissive pleasure. The music in your head feels louder.
You’re a good toy.
You can barely summon up the resolve to think straight as the fox lowers you onto its thick shaft. You’re panting helplessly, squeezing around the fat member as it fills you up. Did it just twitch inside you? There’s no way...
The fox is breathing. You can see those deadly sharp teeth from the corner of your eye, panting like a real animal as it slides your helpless body up and down on its cock. Your head is spinning, your resistance melting. It feels so good to hang helplessly in the fox’s grip, your legs spread wide for the thick cock that stuffs you full in deep, greedy pumps. You can feel it swelling at the base, slowly bulging into a thick knot that strains your pussy. You’re letting out pitiful noises each time you’re lowered all the way to the base, something between moans and sobs. Bare metal and plastic and fake fur bumps against your ass each time the fox plunges deep.
You’re going to come like this, and there’s nothing you can do.
The fox keeps fucking you even as his knot swells, pounding you until you’re crying out in both overwhelmed pleasure and helpless soreness. You’re shaking in his grip, gasping, but you would never struggle because a good toy doesn’t struggle, you’re a good little toy who makes a perfect cocksock, squeezing around a nice fat dick as it uses you like you were made for—
The room echoes with your cries as you come hard, your body clenching around the deep pumps of the fox’s dick. Your head falls back against the massive animatronic, leaving you staring at the ceiling and gasping for air as it keeps pounding you. That big, thick member is... oh god, it’s throbbing inside you. You feel dizzy, each deep thrust punching whimpers out of you. You’re wetter inside than you were before, sloppy with something warm and thick. But that doesn’t make sense, it’s just an animatronic...
The fox’s thick, veiny knot pops out of your abused pussy. You’re moaning, your head spinning as those big claws lift you, sliding your cunt up that thick cock until every inch has slipped out of you. It leaves you loose and dripping, a hot sticky gush dripping out of your used hole and puddling on the checkered floor. You feel loose and sore and it feels so right...
A low, robotic rumble makes you tense in instinctive fear. The fox shifts you, its wet cock bumping between your legs again, this time prodding at your tight, exposed ass. A thin noise slips out of you, breathy and helpless.
You’re a good toy, and good toys don’t decide how they’re used.
You gasp as the greedy phallus pushes at your asshole, your own slickness lubricating it. The pointed, narrow head starts to tease your hole open no matter how tight you clench. You’re breathing hard, your heart pounding. You’ve never let anyone back there before...
The head slips inside, and another moan drags out of you. It feels weird and dirty and it makes your clit throb. You’re impaled just like you were before, just as helpless as the fox lowers you onto his cock. You can feel that slick shaft sliding into your ass, stretching you open, using you. The ruined animatronics on the floor won’t stop staring at you. Your face is hot under their dead, robotic gaze as your ass is slowly fucked, but breathless gasps keep spilling out of you. You didn’t think this would feel good, you didn’t think you were that kind of person, but oh god you love it. You’re only getting wetter as the animatronic uses your tight ass.
You can’t even shake anymore. Your body is utterly pliant in the fox’s grip, letting him pump into your ass as hard and deep as he wants. You can feel that tapered head deep in your gut, feel it twitch and spurt a small gush of precome inside you. You’re panting, squeezing around that thick cock, as the knot starts to swell inside you. You’re a good toy, ready to have all of your holes played with.
The chime of the music is almost overpowering, mingling with the glow of your orgasm and the goopy slickness dripping out of your pussy and the deep, slow thrusts of a cock in your ass. It all blurs together, becoming a hypnotic lullaby. Your vision is going hazy, your mouth hanging open and panting as the fox’s knot locks him deep in your ass.
Just before the world fades and you slip into submissive unconsciousness, you realize you’re going to come like this too.
Consciousness drifts back to you slowly and dizzily. It’s dark in here. You’re wet, so wet, so ready for someone to play with you. A moan tries to spill out of you, but it’s muffled by the thick rubber gag in your mouth. You can’t move. Your limbs are all trapped in some tight, narrow space, something that fits the shape of your body. It’s dark in here, and cramped.
A good toy doesn’t need to move on its own, though.
Your eyes slowly adjust to the dim light. There’s darkness in here, but out there, you can faintly make out a checkered floor, illuminated by the abandoned light of your cell phone. You can see it all through the eye holes of the thing you’re trapped inside.
A shudder runs through your pinned body. Aside from the eye holes, there’s only one part of you that’s exposed to the room and the dead gaze of the mangled animatronics. Whatever suit you’ve been stuffed into, the groin piece is gone. Your slick, tight holes are available for anyone who wants them. A pulse of pleasure shivers up your spine at the thought, and you moan into the gag again.
You can hear the music in your head, an endless dizzy loop. You’re a good toy. You hope someone plays with you soon.