Match Made

Trial 1

Nikki

I came to on cold, wet metal, the grating biting into my palms as I shoved myself up and looked around.

Where am I?

Fog pressed in from every side, thick enough to half-obscure the rails and beams just five feet out from me. I glanced up, swallowing hard as a chain swung overhead. It clicked against itself in a slow, steady rhythm.

I unfolded from my hands, and knees position, shaking the numbness from my fingers. My jeans were intact, jacket zippers working, and boots perfectly laced. Of course, my phone was dead, the screen black.

Think, Nikki.

But I didn’t know what to think!

Above me, there was no sky, just endless black and a maze of catwalks. Red lights pulsed somewhere nearby, heightening the panic rushing through me. I couldn’t stay still and wait for what or whoever to make an appearance. I needed to move.

The catwalk groaned under each step, the sound sometimes echoing back on a different note. My head swung left and right, my hand gripping the railing tight. But it was the scrape of metal dragging across concrete that froze me in place. I licked dry lips, blinking rapidly.

Keep moving, girl.

But I didn’t just keep moving, I sprinted as sweat gathered under my jacket despite the cold air. The scraping noise got closer and I swore the platforms shifted when I glanced away.

Nope. Get the hell out of here, now!

I skidded to a halt as the platform changed like I’d suspected and dropped over a rail to a lower catwalk, the air rushing out of me.

“Fuck,” I grunted. For the second time, I lurched to my feet, new aches blooming across my body.

Keep moving.

I limped forward and hopped another rail, this time dropping six feet to the platform below. My knees popped, bearing my weight and I swore I saw stars. The fog hugged closer and I wiped condensation from my face.

What am I running from?

And what happens when it catches me?

The corridor angled left and I caught a fleeting glimpse of my reflection in a panel of broken glass–chocolate eyes too bright, a damp sheen glistening on my dark skin and a bruise forming just below my collarbone. Basically, I looked like shit. But I’d worry about that after I discover the exit.

When the scraping came again—closer—I ducked into an alcove, heart hammering. My jacket snagged on a protruding bolt, leaving a scrap of fabric as a marker. My brows rose. I could use that to mark my way…if whatever making that noise didn’t find me first.

I covered my mouth to hide the sound of my ragged breathing, listening for my pursuer. They didn’t come—maybe they were playing some sick game. I crawled out of the alcove and resumed running, but the geometry kept twisting, the catwalks leading to locked gates and ladders ascending to nowhere. One corridor looped back on itself until I recognized a blood smear of mine on a rusted support.

It was a fucking maze.

One, obviously, designed to keep me trapped. But for what purpose?

I swiped my hand on my jeans as the fog thickened. My nose crinkled. Something greasy and coppery hung heavy in the air. I ducked under a swaying hook, feeling the point rake my hair and the back of my jacket without tearing any strands or breaking the skin.

This place is a hellscape, and if I screamed, would that get me killed sooner?

After dodging another hook, I muttered, “Fuck it.”

“Hey! Assholes, this isn’t funny! Take me back now or—”

The air thickened, and something impossible stepped out of the fog. I stumbled back.

It stood easily over six feet with shoulders so broad they blocked out most of the catwalk behind it. But on its head….was a giant fucking wedge of iron, the edges chipped and rusted. There was no face, no eyes—nothing. Just…that for a head.

In its right hand, it gripped a cleaver the size of a surfboard, the tip gouging a shallow grove into the platform as it dragged—that explained the noise. But not where this thing came from or what it—

My eyes dropped and nearly leapt out of my skull.

Okay, Ironhead was hung.

Like, impossibly so.

Pre-cum beaded on the tip of the biggest dick I’d ever seen, and it was surprisingly human in appearance, if not for its size. I stayed frozen and stared far longer than I should have and it didn’t move, letting me look my fill…like it wanted the attention.

However, the catwalk shuddered as it took a step toward me, dick swaying, a thin string of pre-cum breaking free.

Nope.

That thing would break me.

So, I did the sensible thing.

I ran.

Again.

Somehow, it got ahead of me, appearing out of thin air on the other side of a pit, blade tip resting on the catwalk and leaking tip pointed at me. Its wedge head gleamed in the strobing lights. It waited for me to make my next move.

But what?

I hadn’t signed up for death by monster dick.

Had I?

Nope, I’d remember.

“This is bullshit,” I hissed. “You’re just gonna stand there and do what? Drip all over the place?”

Why was I taunting it?

Okay, maybe a part of me wished to see what it’d do, what kind of game it was playing. It certainly felt like I’d stepped into one. Home one minute getting wine drunk and here after a few heavy blinks.

Maybe it was an elaborate dream.

Damn, my imagination was good.

The monster shook the catwalk again, approaching slowly and I glanced over the rail then at the ladder that descended into darkness.

Only way is down…

I swung a leg over and started climbing, hands burning from the shockingly hot rungs.

Fucking hellscape.

A tremor shook the ladder, snapping my head up. The Ironhead had set foot on it, too and was coming for me.

I climbed faster and missed a rung, sliding the remaining distance to the next platform, which turned out to be a deck littered with debris.

“You should clean up when you have guests, Ironhead,” I quipped before popping up with a wince. My spine wasn’t happy, but I scanned for an exit.

A tunnel opened to my left. I plunged into it, my arms tucked close. Above me, I heard Ironhead moving steadily. A guy that big couldn’t move fast, could he? What was he, seven or eight feet?

And at least ten inches of dick.

Don’t think about that.

The tunnel went on forever, and I began doubting it was truly an exit. Behind me, I could hear that damn scrape of the blade almost the length of me. Why wouldn’t he drop the damn thing? He’d move faster, for sure.

And we don’t want that, Nikki.

Death by dick, remember.

But my lungs burned, and my legs were rubber after all this walking and running. I did Crossfit twice a week. It didn’t have ‘training for an apocalypse’ in one of its workouts of the day. And the world had to have ended if I was here with Ironhead.

Just give up.

Stop running and see what he does.

Then what?

Let him run me through with his lethal blade?

Except…he hadn’t tried harming me, had he? With no lips, it wasn’t like he could talk either.

I stumbled into another chamber and came to a halt. A massive table stood in the center, the room lit by a single swinging light. Chains hung from the rafters, some ending in cuffs and others in meat hooks.

I barely registered Ironhead stepping into the room behind me.

I whirled around slowly, backing up, probably to right where it wanted me. Silently, it watched, then dropped its deadly looking blade. It strode forward until my hip clocked the edge of the table.

“What are you—”

His searing hot hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me forward, then down, until my face pressed into the cool wood.

“I don’t understand—”

Deft fingers worked my jeans open, and I gasped, cool air sweeping across my bare skin. Its fingers found my pussy and its chest vibrated, probably the only sound it could make. His other hand pressed on my nape, holding me in place as he explored me slowly, pulling moans from my lips.

“Oh, God! What are you doing?” Shamelessly, I bucked my hips back, letting his fingers sink inside me.

Jesus, I was probably going to get Tetanus.

But I rode him for all he was worth, whimpering into the wooden table. It dug into my hip, each thrust of his fingers punctuated by a wet squelching sound. I practically gushed around his fingers, dripping down my thighs. Why was I this turned on? It made no sense!

Ironhead didn’t stop until I came with a choked cry, rolling my hips to prolong the release. All too soon, he removed his fingers, only to replace them with his monster dick.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit!”

He didn’t listen. He pulled my hair, gripped my hip and stretched me slowly, one burning inch at a time. My teeth clacked together as he bottomed out, the wedge of his pelvis pinning me to the table.

I inhaled through my nose, breathing through the stretch. He paused for several moments then set a slow rhythm. Even so, he was so large I cried out each time he buried himself to the hilt, forcing my pussy to take all of him.

“Oh, God! Oh God! Oh God!”

I was going to come despite it all—the fucking chase, the absolute aberration wrecking me with his dick, and the horrendous environment we were in. Everything sharpened to a point, that sweet spot his dick struck each time he plunged inside me.

“There! Oh, fuck!”

I threw my head back and screamed, clenching tight around the biggest dick I’d ever had. His fingers tightened on my neck and his pace increased as he chased his own release.

Oh, fuck, what was his cum going to be like—fill me till my belly bulged?

You’ve watched too much hentai, Nikki.

But I panted like a bitch in heat, pushing back to meet each thrust.

Let my pussy make him see stars.

It might be the only human cunt he’s had access to wherever here was.

He pounded faster, rocking the table and nearly sliding me up and off it from the force of his hips snapping into me. I scrambled for purchase, eyes rolling back as another wave of pleasure blasted through me.

Two?!

“Oh!”

My body seized, and he seated himself so deep, I swore I felt him in my stomach, filling me with his cum like I imagined. My tongue hung out as I breathed through my mouth, micro twitches rippling through my limbs.

Holy shit, what was that?