Commission for IftheArtistConstents (Minds), thanks again!
Who I am is not important, what I am about to do is. Hundred grand for the capture of the dreaded Fuckman. Bounty hunting isn’t a bad job, really. Its not hard to bring unmarried men to justice, especially the more ‘difficult’ to catch ones. I find it fun, really. I sat in the bar, cash still weighing down my purse from another successful job. Some mummy had me catch her man. I guess he was too scared to jump into the arms of his ‘mummy mommy’ as she called herself. I wanted to wretch at the thought. I drank my cherry lemonade, the sour taste stung the sore in my mouth, but I loved the dark red drink so much. A lot of girls like me, red caps, to be specific, tried to get away from the aggressive and violent stigma by keeping as far away from the color red as much they can. But I reveled in it. Red clothes, red eyes, and red hats specifically. I didn’t dye my hair red, but it was a nice raven black and I kept it somewhat short and almost always messy. I tapped my fingers on the counter of the bar as I anxiously waited for my next job. The mommy-- Mummy thing had been a week ago or so and I needed something new to work on. I was jolted awake as my cell phone began to ring. I picked it up and growled into the microphone, “Red Reaper,” I announced my presence with a raspy voice. Red Reaper. I had been calling myself that for quite a long time. Like my villain or anti-hero name. I-- “Hi, sweetie!” A cheerful voice greeted me, rousing me from my thoughts. “Mooooom...” I groaned, hiding my now red face, “I told you not to call me on my work phooooone!” “Oh, I’m just checking in on you,” She giggled. My mother wasn’t another red cap. I had been born to a very sweet echidna. I was the black sheep, the outcast amongst her children. But I-- “Sweetie... Are you mumbling to yourself again? What is it called? Monologuing?” “N-no!” I cried a little louder than I meant to, “I-I mean, I’m just trying to remember stuff. D-Don’t worry about it.” My mom laughed to herself, “Alright, alright. Sorry for teasing you. Want me to let you go?” “No... I’m happy to hear from you...” I admitted to myself and to her in a quiet tone. Despite being so different from her, I loved my mom, “L-love you, mom. I’ll come by soon, okay?” “Alright, sweetie. I love you too. Make sure you bring your boyfriend this time! I want to meet him!” My heart sank-- I made sure to stop mumbling to myself quickly so my mom wouldn’t hear what I nearly uttered aloud. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I had lied to my whole family during Thanksgiving dinner just to look cool. There was no way I could go home without one. Mom would definitely know something was up, “Uh, yeah... If he’s not too busy. He’s such a hardworking, busy guy, ha...” I chuckled quietly. “Well, I just hope he has enough time to spend with you! I’ll let you go sweetie, I’m sure you are very busy.” “See ya mom... Say hi to dad for me and any of my siblings that come around.” “I will,” She hung up. I listened to the dull tone that came out of my phone’s speakers as pain shot through my soul. I couldn’t find a man. It was tough out here in the city. Its not like any man would WANT me either. I was too brutal and angsty for a man and my breasts, hips and ass were all too big for any man that enjoyed girls my height. I sighed and stared down into the dark red drink. I started to chuckle as I imagined bringing home Fuckman himself to my mom. What would she even say if I had bagged a serial mamano rapist? I jumped as my phone buzzed again. I picked it up slowly and looked at the touch screen. I expected another text from my mom. Instead I got a text from a familiar number. My informant, ‘Fuckman has struck again,’ followed by an address. My heart skipped a beat. I might still have time to catch up to him. I threw down more than enough money to pay for my tab and hurried out the door, running to my pickup truck. I sped over to the old docks. Not many girls or boys make that area their home, so its a safe bet that whatever happened here was less than legal or needed to be kept on the down low. I pulled up to the warehouse and shut off my engine. A few sabbath members were milling around the outside of the warehouse, pretending to be busy. I shut off my car and grabbed my tattered red cloak as well as my foldable, extendable scythe that I lovingly called ‘Death’s Finger.’ I pulled the hood over my raggedy hair and stepped towards the warehouse. The sabbath members didn’t stop me, probably on account of my fearsome aura. The inside of the warehouse was much less busy. Very few dared to actually enter the gruesome scene. There were clothes scattered about, about enough for five girls along with a handful of cum blasts that stained furniture and the walls. There was one spot where it looks like a girl had taken at least four massive loads to the face. There was a goblin sitting in a chair, crying her eyes out as four powerful mamano tried to help her. She was inconsolable, babbling somewhat madly, “I saw him! He was HUGE and his dick was GIGANTIC!” She wailed as I approached. One of the baphomets gave me a glance but went back to listening to the goblin. “Tipp,” An arch gremlin sighed, “Calm down. Its not like he murdered them--” “HE DID!” She snaps, “He raped THEM! We’re mamano! WE are the ones meant to be doing the raping! How can those girls live with themselves now!” [See ‘Fuckman VS the Loli Menace Vol. 7’ for more information!] She cried out again, “We were joking around about catching him! And he got us! He fucked them! All of them! Ashe, Blue, Wolfe, Jay and poor Gizmo! They didn’t deserve that!” “Can you tell us anything that might help us catch him?” I demanded. The arch gremlin turned to me, “What the hell are you supposed to be? You don’t look like any of us on account of those big honkers.” I tried not to be hurt about the big breast comment. To be fair, all of these sabbath members were pretty flat, “The Red Reaper!” I proudly announced in my most menacing voice, “I’m going to bring the dreaded Fuckman to justice!” She looked me up and down and shrugged, “Your funeral, or wedding, I guess. Tipp, why don’t you tell the goofy girl what you know?” I hid a scowl from her and looked at the goblin. She nodded quickly, “He-he loaded each of them into a van. It was... Black? I think? A-and it had some words on the side. I-I think it was a plumbing company?” I quickly texted the info I had to my informant, “When? When did this happen?” “T-this happened just this morning.” It wasn’t much, but my informant had their way of finding stuff. I didn’t know who she was, but she had been on the Fuckman case for a while now. The sabbath leaders continued to try and calm the goblin down. Quickly, I received a photo within a text. It looked like a photo taken from a security camera. Didn’t really seem like it was nearby. I flashed it at the goblin, “This look like it?” She nodded, “D-don’t go after him! He’ll fuck you too!” I scoffed as I turned to leave, “I’m gonna fuck the Fuckman.” My first stop was the address on the side of the van. It was on the other side of town, but I made it there pretty quickly. I found the small building and stepped out of my car, weapon in hand. The sky was dimming quickly, it was already a nice orange hue with a slight amount of dark blue or purple. I always did enjoy the twilight of the evening. I skulked up to the windows, sneakily trying to take an unnoticed peek into the building. Everything inside looked dusty, and whoever had been here had left in quite a hurry. They seemed to have left all of their tools behind, but probably took whatever valuables they had with them. I glanced around, it didn’t seem like anyone was looking at me. With... Some skill, I managed to pick the lock on the door, only breaking one lock pick this time. I stepped inside carefully, looking for any kind of clues I could scrape together. I sneezed as I kicked up some dust with my mere presence, “Uuuugh,” I groaned to myself, “Stupid dust,” I grunted as I kept looking around. This place must have been abandoned shortly after mamano came into this world through those portals. I found mostly plumbing equipment that had been left behind and left to gather dust. I put up with the dust and cobwebs as I desperately searched through drawers and cabinets, I needed SOMETHING. I HAD to find a clue! I HAD to be the one to be the one to catch Fuckman! Everyone would know my name! They would hear ‘Red Reaper’ in a whispered voice and get shivers down their spines! I’d be famous! Rich! I’d have friends and-- I stopped myself during my monologue. I sighed as I found next to nothing. I did find a ten dollar bill at least and I could buy some ice cream and-- “Who am I kidding?” I asked myself, interrupting my monologue as I sat on the floor, “What the hell am I doing?” I hugged my legs to my chest. “Playing detective?” I sneered at myself. “No, I’m being a hero!” I replied, desperately trying to convince myself, “You saw how that goblin was sobbing!” “Pfft,” I scoffed, “She was just upset he didn’t fuck her. You just want Fuckman to fuck you, don’t you? You don’t care about the money. You don’t care about the fame like you think you do. You’re all talk, you just want Fuckman to fuck you so you can wind up in an easy relationship like those other girls!” “No!” I cried, “That’s not true! I have to catch him, I have to catch him so everyone will take me seriously!” “No one will ever take you seriously,” I snapped, “You’re sitting on the dusty floor of an abandoned plumbing shop. Not even Fuckman would fuck you.” I stopped. I was in over my head. Way, way over my head. I wanted to go home. I wanted a way out of this case. Maybe tonight I would tell my informant that I was dropping out? Over a nice big tub of ice cream. I gripped the 10 dollar bill in my hand, “Rainbow sherbet? Oh... Cookies and cream?” I asked myself, daydreaming about the sweet flavors. I jumped as my phone started to vibrate. Why did it always go off when I was the least prepared for it? I grunted and glanced at the screen of my work phone. It was my informant. A simple text, ‘If you’re at that plumbing place, you’re really close to where this van was last spotted,’ A picture of the van sitting in an old riverside parking lot that must have been a prime spot for young couples to go make out, ‘Better hurry though. It could be on the move soon!’ I had cold feet. But I might as well check it out since it was close to my favorite ice cream parlor. I doubted he would be there. No way he would. Even if he was, he’d probably just scowl at my body and leave. I cursed my large breasts again, all the fat in my body was probably going right to them, but I craved ice cream. I replied quickly with, ‘OMW’ and left the store, locking the door behind me. I hopped in my truck and looked at myself in the rearview mirror. I gave myself a small smile and pulled away from the building. I found the van exactly where my informant had told me I would. It sat alone in the dark, my headlights illuminating the van. I looked around, I didn’t see a single soul. It was late but young mamano couples didn’t really need to worry about hiding their affection for one another like human teens had to. Not like I would know anything about relationships-- I stopped myself before I could end up on another depressive tangent. Just check out the van and leave. That's all I needed to do. Then I could go buy my ice cream and go home to cry-- I mean, have a nice evening to myself and watch a nice horror movie. With a hesitant sigh, I stepped from my warm truck and into the cold night. I pulled my cloak around me and raised the hood. I had my scythe, ‘Death’s Finger’ hidden under my cloak, ready to go. I had never really needed to pull it out, to be honest. Most nerds I caught came quietly. I walked up to the black van, leaving my truck running so I could use the headlights to see. I yawned, my mind focused on going home. I had already made up my mind on quitting this case so why was I here? I didn’t really know. I grabbed the back doors of the van and tried to open them. Surprisingly, it opened right up for me. I stared into the back, into the dim chamber. There was a soft looking mattress on the floor of the van along with pillows and blankets. Was someone living in here? My pointed ears twitched as I heard a noise behind me. I turned to look at whatever had made the noise. My heart stopped as I stared up at him. Fuckman was here, “Oh fuck, oh god, oh Maou!” I cried aloud as my quiet monologuing turned into a loud cry. He was big. Like six feet tall and completely naked. His body was covered in some kind of oil and his face was obscured by that panty mask I had heard so much about. His muscles were rippling as he stood over me, looking down. He hesitated, looking somewhat confused as I started to panic, “Uh, uh, uh,” I stammered loudly, none of my one liners coming to my head as I drew ‘Death’s Finger,’ without another thought, I started to swing at him. He cried out as my demon silver weapon tore through his naked skin, quickly draining the energy out of his body. I stood over him as he collapsed, “D-die, Fuckman. You don’t belong in this world,” I finally stammered out, even if I had already defeated him. I started to giggle, then laugh. I had done it! I had beaten Fuckman! Of course, I found it a little strange that the demon silver had worked, I had heard before that the Fuckman was immune to it. I cackled as I went to my truck and got a bag and some rope. I put the bag over his head and tied his hands together then tied up his legs. I dragged his limp body to the back seat of my pickup and dragged him in. I threw a blanket over his body and continued laughing. Home. I had to get home. I needed to get a picture or something. I had to prove it. I giggled all the way home. Screw ice cream! I had HIM! I can buy all the ice cream I could ever want after I collect that bounty! I pulled up to my apartment and parked as carefully as I could despite my excitement. I quickly unlocked my front door first and left it ajar. I was thankful for once that I had a first floor apartment. I glanced around, even if one of my neighbors did see me dragging someone into my home, it wouldn’t really matter. All sorts of mamano drag men home. I went back to my truck and carefully pulled Fuckman out. I pulled him into my home and locked the door behind me. I tossed him onto the bed, still wrapped in the blanket and rubbed my hands together, “Oh boy, oh boy,” I grinned as I excitedly grabbed my camera. Hundred grand. All mine. Or... Ours? “Am I gonna rape him?” I asked myself, “I guess as revenge for those girls... I should, right? Finally get my man...” I nodded. I felt a little disappointed, it almost felt wrong. “Ugh...” I heard him groan. “Are... You awake?” I asked quietly as I carefully removed the blanket. I stared into the mask of Fuckman. The panty mask with that weird male symbol on the forehead. He glanced at me, “Finally caught you, Fuckman,” I cackled as he probably rolled his eyes at me under the mask, “All mine to do whatever I want to!” I slapped a hand on his oiled chest somewhat playfully. He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess you win, Red Reaper.” “Y-you know my name!?” I gasped as I stared into his mask. “Of... Course! I know the names of all my enemies, Red Reaper.” “Well, I am a hero-- Villain worth knowing!” I cackled once more in a menacing voice, “I suppose...” I straddled him, “I can do whatever I want with you,” I removed my cloak, revealing my tight fitting red shirt and black jeans, “I have to know... Why? Why fuck all these girls?” “Justice,” He grunted, struggling a little against the rope that bound him. I merely gave him a confused look, “Don’t you see? Girls like you, those sabbath members and gremlins, all of you need men like us to fuck the misguided evil out of you.” “Us?” I echoed, a little concerned now. Every report I had heard, Fuckman never spoke, “A-are there... Fuckmen?” “Every man has it in them. A boner... For justice! We just lack the power, the physical and magical might to defeat mamano like you! I showed you mercy in your moment of panic and weakness! And... Look where that got me...” He sighed and flopped his head down in defeat, “I’m not worthy of the mantle. Of the mask. Do as you want.” With a fast motion I got off of him, leaving him to grieve alone. I looked at my camera. One hundred grand. Just take a picture and upload it to where people talk about ‘The Dreaded Fuckman,’ “But every man on the street could be Fuckman!” I realised aloud with a gasp, “This is just one guy! I doubt he even knows anything!” “Just up the bounty! Double it! Sell this Fuckman! Who cares if Fuckman keeps showing up and fucking girls in the criminal underworld! Its not your problem!” My other voice demanded. “B-but...” I stammered as I kept thinking, “My own man,” I whispered, “Mom will be proud of me. What do I get if I collect the bounty? A hundred thousand or two? Maybe my name will be known but probably not... Maybe more jobs in the future? Crippling loneliness?” I turned to Fuckman suddenly, “YOU!” I screamed at him, “Do you like these!? My FAT FUCKING breasts!?” I tore my shirt off as I demanded an answer from him. He nodded quickly, “T-to be honest. Those are some of the best tits I’ve ever seen. Y-you’ve got a really nice body.” I looked at his body. I didn’t feel like he was lying and his quickly stiffening member was surely telling the truth. The money didn’t matter. The fame didn’t matter. The only thing that DID matter, was that I got the dicking of a lifetime, one that only the-- A Fuckman could give. I grabbed a knife and cut Fuckman loose. I only cared about one thing right now. He looked at me in abject confusion and hesitantly sat up, “Look. I know I talk to myself, monologue, dialogue, all of that. But... I need you to fuck me. Fuck me into a good girl.” He nodded and pulled me into his lap, his hands running over my body and paying special attention to my chest. He grabbed my fat breasts and gently squeezed both, one in each hand. I moaned and grinded against his hard cock. He squirmed and pulled me off his lap, forcing me onto my back. Leaning over me, his hands assaulted my nipples and areola, teasing and playing with them. I gasped as my nubile form felt the warmth of a loving man’s curious and gentle touch. He stuck his thumbs under his mask, lifting it up and revealing his mouth. I touched his shaved skin and brought his face towards mine for a long, passionate kiss. I smiled as he pulled away, returning to my breasts. I felt like I had finally found my man. ‘Fuckman’ continued riling me up, getting my body ready for our long love making session. I was already wet, I was afraid my wet pussy would dampen my black denim pants as well. I continued to moan and squirm as he pinched, licked, kissed, sucked, rubbed and felt my nipples. I propped myself up a little bit with one of my pillows. He was completely hard already, throbbing as he delighted in my soft, pillowy breasts. He grabbed my hips and rolled me onto my stomach, my legs dangling over the side of my bed. With a firm tug on the hem of my pants, he pulled them down. In another swift motion, he peeled my panties off of my sopping wet cunt. I grabbed a pillow, anxiously hugging it as ‘Fuckman’ grabbed my hips. I moaned as he slapped my ass firmly with an open hand. He chuckled in between excited, horny pants for air. I pouted, only for my back to arch violently as his throbbing cock was gently slid into my gash, “Aw!” I cried aloud, “Fuck! Turn me into your Crimson Cocksleeve!” I wailed. Without a word, he firmly grabbed my hips once more. He thrust slowly and carefully at first, testing my limits as his member pierced me, diving into my womb and then sliding back out with only the head still in me. He grunted and moaned as my hot, wet cunt begged him to cum. I was loud as I cried out in pleasure, it was almost too much to bear as my mind went blank and I started mumbling aloud to myself almost incoherently. Fuckman slapped my ass again, making me cry out as he thrust deep into me with a violent, wet, sexual, slapping noise. I swore loudly again, at least I think I did. It might have just been a random scream as my body prepared for a violent orgasm. My back arched as my fat rump got another slap. I gripped his hands, keeping him latched onto me as my pussy quivered and leaked. He stopped thrusting into me, I could feel his cock throbbing, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” I demanded with an angry snarl. He leaned down, putting his weight on top of me. His hands went to my breasts, fondling and teasing again. He started to thrust again. I had already orgasmed, but I doubted my now sensitive nipples and pussy would let me last very long against his violent cock assault. He thrust and thrust, the scent of the oil slicken across his body and the sweet intoxicating aroma of sexual pressure mixing in the air. It was a wonderful scent. There had to be something in that oil, the way the scent made me feel almost numb and raised how horny I was. But I wasn’t focused on that then. The only thing I was focused on was the man fondling and fucking me. He grunted as the loud plap, plap, plap of his thrusting sped up, “I-- I’m--” Taking hold of his arms, forcing him to stay close to me and fruitlessly trying to wrap my thighs around his hips, I cried out my demand, “Cum in me! Inseminate my womb! Make me your wife! Make me your good girl!” “Yes... YES!” He cried out, thrusting violently into me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I orgasmed just as powerfully as before, if not more so, in response to his splooge flooding my womb. I kept orgasming as his cock continued throbbing, emptying his balls violently into me. I was shouting and screaming as he grunted and moaned into my ear. With the last of his precious baby batter shot into me, he collapsed, panting and sweating as he lay over me, semi-hard cock still stuck firmly in me. Struggling to wiggle out from underneath him, I felt his load gently trickling down my leg. He lifted himself up, letting me loose as I tried to shove the cum back into my snatch. I looked at his mask, only his mouth visible. I took hold of it and peeled it off his head. He looked at me nervously then tried to turn away but I took hold of his head and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. I settled into bed, forcing him to lay next to me as I gently caressed his hair and smooched his scalp. There was a great feeling of ease as my negative emotions and maddening lust for the color red seemed to dissipate. I lay in the warmth of my now husband, ticking his face playfully and nibbling on his ears as he giggled and squirmed. There was a strange happy feeling that overcame me, “I love you,” I whispered into the man’s ear. I didn’t know his name, nor did he really know mine. He looked up at me with big, happy eyes and smiled right back, “Love you too. Hey... What should I call you? Crimson...Cocksleeve doesn’t feel right.” “Names tomorrow, sugar,” I whispered, stealing the pet name my mother used for my father, “Words will only stain tonight’s memories,” He nodded, letting me resume being the big spoon. The Red Reaper was no more. Just thinking about it that night made me cringe at myself. What did I want him to call me? I pondered to myself. Perhaps something cute like, White Wife or maybe-- “It-Its really cute how you monologue to yourself,” My husband chuckled as he gave me a squeezing hug. I grumpily placed his face between my breasts as I returned to monologuing, wondering aloud to myself what kind of wife I was going to be and fretting over moving out, being a mother and most importantly of all, a loving partner to this wonderful man.