Archive of Our Own ^beta

"I just have to stick it in?" 

You flutter your lashes at the lanky adult man in front of you, who's currently drooling over the sound of your high pitched voice asking him how to properly fuck him. You're 10 years old; you're a child. He's a disgusting child molester. 

"That's right, princess." Jello said with a grin, unable to contain his excitement at the idea of getting his ass drilled by a little girl with a strap-on. "Align your hips with mine, and slide in." He directed. 

"You're a fucking freak." You hum, doing what you're told and pushing your little hips up, before sinking the plastic cock deep in his ass, forcing a groan to spill past his lips. "Ngh— I was just trying to help, brat." He shook his head, amused with your attitude. You're absolutely perfect. 

Ignoring him, you begin thrusting deep in his ass as he clenches around the invading silicon. Jello clutched at the wall, rolling his hips against yours. "Then date someone who actually knows what this is, I'm a little girl." You pout, puffing your cheeks out at him. 

You were right, of course. You were still in fourth grade, and Jello was getting drunk on stage and scampering around like a cat, something you and his bandmates agreed on. He was well, a faggot, and honestly, disgusted by his audacity. It wasn't like they helped, either. 

"And what did I do to deserve this?" The vocalist cocks his head, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as you fuck him harder— inexperienced obviously and eager to please, despite hating him with every fiber of your being. You still had a heart, after all. 

"You're a pedophile." You stuck your tongue out, grabbing his hips to steadily slide in and out of his asshole, abusing his hole. Jello's heart thumped inside his chest at your apathy, his cock twitching desperately like the pervert he knows he is. He's a horrible person; there's nothing he can do to pretend he isn't one. 

A whimper left you as he tightened around you, forcing you in deeper. The size difference drove him crazy— your wrist was so, so itty bitty, and fuck, he wanted to eat you whole, or eat you out until you couldn't handle it anymore, his chin dripping with your juices. Fuck, you loved teasing him. 

"So what? You're one allowing me to molest you. I mean, you got a dick buried deep inside me, babe." Jello said bluntly, his tone turning into a whimper with every snap of your hips, rendering him into a useless whore for you. "God, fuck, I'm going to rot in jail, aren't I?"

"Oh, absolutely." You said, pulling out and spitting on your palm, smearing it over the dildo and shoving it back inside him, using your saliva as lubricant. "Shit— I'm fucked up." It's not like he regrets it, because he wouldn't give you up for anything. Using all that band money on little girl prostitutes, his little mistress. 

Precum leaked from Jello's cockhead as he imagined steel handcuffs being closed on his wrists, deserving every ounce of brutality he would receive in the slammer. You wanted him to suffer from the pigs' hands, see him crying and bruised. 

So, you smack him across the face. 

"Ah, fuck! What did I do to deserve that?" Jello whimpered from the harsh sting on his cheek, making him sniffle. He was pathetically hard, clenching his muscles directly onto the cock you were fucking him with. The worst part was that he was horrifically aware that he had absolutely no excuse for his pedophilic behavior, criticizing it in his music but indulging in it with pretty little things willing to sell their bodies. 

You hit him again until you bottom out, squealing from the sensation. His asshole is so warm and slick, hugging the strap like a glove. "You feel good, which is surprising for a whore like you." 

Jello's cheeks flushed in irritation, wishing he could shut you up and stuff your bratty mouth full of his cock, turn you into an overstimulated, quivering mess, but he adores whatever you do to him whenever he has you pissed off enough. You slam into him repeatedly, stretching out the adult's asshole with every inch of the plastic cock. 

"Fuuuck," Jello's eyes rolled back, humiliated that he was letting a 10 year old walk all over him like this. You're not supposed to be doing this, mocking him for breaking the law, but there's a price on your cunny for a reason, and that's why he loves you so much. You're a hypocrite, and he wants to drown in your heat. 

You tug a fistful of his hair, wishing to further demean him when all it does in reality is make him horny. As you jackhammer the Dead Kennedy's frontman, his cock shoots ropes all over the place, staining it on the wall and all over his legs. Jello Biafra stoops low enough to the point where he can upskirt you. 

Jello whimpers pitifully once you push yourself out of him, unable to stop a grin spreading on your face once you see how you split his hole open. "You're going to hell, I hope you know that, mister." 

He takes a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. You sit on the bed, watching as he crawls over to you and gazes up at you like a needy dog. You're worth every penny, though. DEAD KENNEDY'S FRONTMAN BANKRUPT AFTER GIVING EVERYTHING UP FOR A CHILD WHORE, the headlines would say. 

"I want you to eat me out." You chirp sweetly, still not knowing any better despite being groomed into this thing. He's just enabling your abuse, isn't he?

"Yes, ma'am." Jello says as you slip the harness off, admiring the sight of him lowering his head and feeling his hot breath on your cunt. 

He flicks his tongue out, rolling it over your clit. Instantly, you gasp and clamp a hand over your mouth, yanking at his hair for support. "Aahh... Good kitty!" You hum, patting his head and watching him lean into it. 

He looks beautiful, perfectly tranquil as he services you. It's easy to forget that he has a reputation to uphold, despite being a good for nothing. Klaus and Ray see, and Darren knows. 

You'll ruin him completely— all he wants to be is your good boy.