Chapter Text
Franco got his hug, cradled in Gooseberry’s lap resting his head on the pillowy set of jugs across her chest, against the better judgement of the fucking duck.
What did he know anyway? He was dead, Franco was very much alive and staring at her knockers, salivating. Yeah, salivating like a dog drooling over a bone, or a pussy cat wanting to make buttery biscuits with its paws. Maybe he could paw at her melons to bring that milk in, a little kitten wanting to feed, bad.
They were right there, untouched. No other man had come here, besides the weirdo duck boy on her hand and some unlucky asshole with a pair of stupid goggles. Franco was almost certain there was no boyfriend, but loaded two extra toothy slugs into his Lupara for good measure.
Ain’t no man walkin’ in here who’s gonna leave with their kneecaps intact. Not after the first one.
“What a naughty little boy.” Gooseberry cradled him, rocked him in her arm, humming to herself.
His first two rounds went into the twitching reagent on the floor, gurgling at the teeth buried in his throat. He could have been Gooseberry’s boyfriend for all he knew, but her reaction to him said otherwise.
“Don’t encourage him. Phyllis!” The duck’s drill groaned in Franco’s direction, but he never gave it the time of day.
“Quit yappin’, baby’s cold, baby’s been a bad boy. Let her tell me off without you shovin’ that powertool in my face. I ain’t no two-by-four.” Franco kicked his feet, pulling out his pacifier and slipping it between his teeth just waiting for her to soothe him.
“You wanna go on me, you little shit? I’ll drill you's two ways to Sunday!” The undead dad roared and did this weird thing where he got up close like he wanted to hurt him, but never did.
Pussy.
“Doctor daddy, can’t we keep him just for a little while? He’s so warm.”
She didn’t move, running her index finger along Franco’s suit in that maternal fashion he adored. The duck ignored her, focused solely on Franco. He did the same, rubbing the length of the Lupara as if it would purr at his fingertips and pulled away the pacifier for a second. He cuddled into Gooseberries chest like he was about to set up camp for the foreseeable future.
“What you say, goes in one ear and out the other, duckie boy.”
The drill grew louder, closer, puppet eyes practically glowing with fake rage he could have laughed at. “You’re just a prick with one good ear-”
The Lupara went off prematurely, gouging the ceiling of the shipping yard office. Frano’s rage was real enough to put the next slug straight through the fucking duck's face. “The fuck you say to me?!”
“Doctor daddy, please!” She pulled him away, and pushed out her chest to keep Franco just far enough out of reach. “He’s been a naughty boy, not a little brat like those other ones. Why not… punish him instead, that way he’ll never do it again.”
“Fuck no, let me at ‘im, Phyllis! I’ll drill ‘im a new asshole and he can drink through that, not around my little girl!
She held him back, fucking ridiculous. “Maybe, I can talk with this little man on my own?”
The metal asshole stopped and sighed, totally frustrated. “You’re murdering y’poor father right through the heart.”
“It does get awfully lonely, daddy. Maybe, just for ten minutes?”
“Likes hell am I gonna leave you here with this runt!”
Could a man not fondle a broad’s tits in peace? She really had to have her daddy here to keep an eye over his precious little blueberry? Franco wasn’t going to knock her up, just get her to knock him about a bit.
He could see it now, suffocating under the weight of those huge bazonga's on his face, praying it was slow and agonising. Marone. Just the thought of his head between her thighs, making a home in there, getting crushed by those things until his own eye popped out of the socket.
Out of this fucking world.
But the duck was pissing him off, the quicker he was latched on to that rack, the better. Franco was partial to the Lupara point blank at that fuck-a-duck face. They didn’t make women like this one anymore, she was built to last and Franco wanted to ride her to his grave. A deep one, big enough to hold two people so even then he could bury his face between her jugs like one of those prairie dogs he’d never seen in person, only heard of.
Bury right in there between those plushy breasts and fall asleep with his pacifier.
Go on, mommy. Tell that freaky feathered fuck to hit the road.
“But daddy, just ten minutes!"
Franco’s patience was wavering. Maybe if he shot the duck off at the wrist, he could wrap his lips at the sight of her mamellas right by his mouth. He smacked his lips just imagining what they looked like under her dress, bouncing after being let free for a fondle.
The duck drilled again in defiance, but miraculously stopped, like the ghost of some asshole dad just left the room. Fucking perfect.
“Ten minutes, daddy. I’ll be good.” She looked down at Franco still cradled in her arm. “You‘ve been such a naughty boy, I’ve never seen a child so foul-mouthed.”
“Yeah…” Franco stifled his laugh under his weighty excitement. “Baby’s been bad. Real bad.”
He wondered what material her skirt was made out of. The softness eased at his fingertips, rubbing it together as a soothing remedy. The pacifier found its way back into his mouth, audibly sucking overtime. If he could just steal one of her skirts somehow, maybe he’d sleep better, snuggling up to it with her earthy scent to put him off to dreamland.
Yeah, he’d sleep real good with the memories on his tongue, hand rubbing his back in the way he always wanted those whores to do, yet they were always too scared or too pathetic. Gooseberry commanded the room, no, she commanded the entire area, shivering right into Franco’s bones like a sexual disease, or heroine through a junkie's needle.
Fuck, he’d sleep so good tonight.
“If children are bad, they need a firm hand. But it's all in love.”
“Oh, mommy. Mommy, I need to be punished.” It excited him, drove his carnal desires to the very edge.
He hadn’t even touched himself, he didn’t need to. Franco’s cock was as hard as a rock, twitching between his legs just begging for attention. But he didn’t move to touch it, he watched Gooseberry study him and take his face in behind her mask. That fucked up mask that never came off, he wondered if it even could, and what rosy colour her cheeks would be if it did come off.
She picked him up, seemingly without issue with one arm, and laid him over her lap. His legs hung off, but the tip of his cock rubbed against her leg.
“Five spanks for the foul language, I have to punish the child so he isn’t a bad influence around the children.”
In that case, Franco would swear around these ‘children’ all day long if it got him over Gooseberry’s knee.
“Punish me, mommy, I can’t take it anymore.” He whimpered, shoving the pacifier back into his mouth just as she delivered the first blow to his backside.
One…
Franco’s cock strained against his pants, reacting to the painful strike across his ass cheeks, the duck on her right hand stared up at him, lifeless. He watched the now dead reagent in the middle of the floor, eyes wide with horror full of buckshot, an unwilling audience.
Two…
This strike was positively firmer this time across both cheeks, making him groan and kick his legs to move himself against her thigh, stimulating his crotch and soon swollen tip of his cock.
“Throwing all those teeth away, Doctor Futterman always says, you should listen to your mommy, keep them clean and they won’t fall out.”
For Gooseberry, Franco was willing to slow down a little on the teeth collecting. A little. Barely. As soon as she was done spanking him, until it gave him the happy ending he was looking for, he was already eyeing up the reagent on the floor for more buckshot.
Three…
Franco got that similar tingling sensation in his balls, if Gooseberry kept this up and hit harder each time, he was sure to blow himself in his pants. An accident, maybe she’d change him after, pull his pants down and clean him real good and wipe his ass while she was down there. Damn, Franco hadn’t thought of that, so focused on the spanks, he never thought of what Gooseberry could do to his ass.
A finger, a thermometer, a quick kiss on his forehead. Letting mommy care for him while he was tired from all the killing and teeth ripping. Would she give him a bath? Wash him up real good and step on his face after with a sick twist of her shoe? Just a sight of those unclothed jugs gave Franco sweet dreams for the rest of his life.
And when she gave it to him, he’d keep coming back. It beat those big grunts he tried sitting on, never warm enough after they died, just stiff and cold. Baby wanted something warm with breath into.
“Spank baby good.” He said, fiddling with the blue ribbon of his pacifier. “So bad…”
Four…
Franco was getting close, his cock rubbed against her leg, practically humping her like a dog, huffing and panting with the silicone teat in his mouth. He sucked so hard, his gums started to bleed, flooding his tastebuds with the metallic red stuff he loved looking at so much.
Being punished and told off made Franco’s hips gyrate without control to tease the end of his cock. No care at the dead body’s eyes which fuelled him to go faster, gripping on to Gooseberry’s leg and digging his gloved hand into the fat of her voluptuous, plushy thigh. He was ready for the release he begged for, no hands, or the pair of puppet eyes. So close, he was so close he could taste it along with the trickling blood in his mouth.
“Mama can’t play if you’re vulgar. I’m only doing this because of my love for you. You’ll learn.”
If she stopped doing this, then Franco didn’t want to learn. Fuck education.
Five…
He groaned and bit the silicone so hard it squeaked between his teeth. His hips shuddered as he came in his clothes, resting his head as close to her as he could, smelling her scent and closing his eyes to ride the high he clawed at. It came out in ropes, filling his crotch with a wetness that would no doubt stain the soothing material of her skirt.
“Mother has you, baby.” She stroked a section of his hair, cooing softly spoken words to lull him off of the pleasure into something else entirely. “It hurts me to punish you, but it’s a firmer kind of love that every mother needs to give.”
“Mommy…” Franco huffed, lounging across her legs like a bed itself. “Baby’s thirsty.”
“A drink?...” He couldn’t tell if she was asking him, or not quite understanding his subtle demand.
Though, before he could tell her he wanted to knead and suck her boobs until he fell asleep, or even grab onto them for dear life, the fucking drill powered up. It roared and bellowed by his ear like he owed it money. Franco Barbi owed no man money, it was he who collected the money from pricks like him.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here?” It darted about like a fucking idiot. ”I leave for five minutes and you’re already tryin’ to moves in?! Get the fuck away from my little girl you pervert!”
Franco would have argued back, but he got what he wanted and had a literal lifetime of material to think about when he was cold at night, cuddling up to the wet skirt he was about to steal.
He still held out on the possibility of being drowned between her breasts though.