(We don't know everything about Security Breach at this point in time, but I wanted to write this because otherwise it'll haunt me.
The reader is, as usual, female. And this gets smutty.)
It was huge. Much, much bigger than you could have ever dreamed it would be. Whatever happened to the tiny pizzeria you used to love as a kid? Or even as a teenager- though you would have been loathe to admit that at the time. But now, as an adult, with your own job and house and time to spare that night, you walked into the mall with purpose.
It's all anyone's talking about. How they completely revamped the concept from the ground up.
Even upon entering you could see what people were saying: Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria had now become a "Pizzaplex". Whatever that meant.
But it was brightly lit, colorful, loud, and with the enticing smell of pizza wafting towards you, you couldn't resist. Before you knew it, your feet were guiding you inside.
Front and center was a statue of the bear himself, but he was enormous, golden with huge shoulderpads as was typical of that era. "Glamrock Freddy" was apparently his name, which meant that- probably- the other animatronics had "Glamrock" in their names as well.
At least, that was what you could only assume.
The statue was in a power stance with the mic stand in his grip, a true testament to the glamrock music he was so obviously named for. Glam rock was all the rage, so this was right up the people's alley.
Shaking your head a little you grinned as you walked inside, amidst the screaming kids and even the excited teenagers.
Wow, even adults would get a kick out of this place. It looks incredible.
Incredibly huge, anyway. You had the sense that, without a map, you might get lost. But it was hours before the place was due to close for the night, and you had no pressing matters to attend to, so what did it matter?
You walked further inside, eyes darting about, trying to take everything in at once. But your gaze landed on a giant alligator head with it's tongue out, mouth opened wide. Then you realized: the damn place had an entire mini-golf course set up.
I take it back. This place isn't just big, it's massive.
You grinned as you went to the counter to purchase a club and a brightly colored gold ball. The teen behind the counter smiled in a friendly manner at you, though she seemed a little distracted by something. "Good luck! And don't forget, if you can get a hole in one at the last hole, you win something special!"
Something special, huh?
☆☆☆
Pizzaplex or not, mini-golf was fairly straightforward. It wasn't your best sport, but it wasn't your worst, either. You did fairly decently, sticking right around par. The other people around you were neatly spaced out as they went from one hole to the next.
Within the span of an hour you had arrived at the last one, the eighteenth hole. And this was where the gator head had come into play. But you frowned a little; where exactly was the ball supposed to go?
"Aim for the tongue," a voice behind you spoke up, making you flinch and whip around, coming face to face with quite possibly the tallest person in the pizzaplex. He grinned wide, leaning casually on his club, but seemingly more interested in you.
He was dressed rather strangely, with a bright green suit and hair to match. His eyes were hidden behind star-shaped sunglasses. Upon closer inspection, you realized that his suit was made of alligator skin.
A chill ran down your spine for reasons you could not place.
"You know, the longer you wait, the more people are gonna line up behind you. And that'll just put pressure on you, won't it?" His grin widened, teeth glinting in the bright neon lights.
Are they... sharp?
"O-oh... right. You said aim for the tongue?" The tongue of the gator head was wide enough, but you noted that there was a dip right down the center. Like a real tongue. You felt the man's eyes on you as you took your shot, aiming the ball for the tongue.
Sure enough, it went right into the dip and stayed there, going down the gator's "throat", so to speak. After a couple of seconds you glanced back at the green-haired man. His smile had not faded. But there was suddenly a fanfare coming from the speakers nearby, and he began to clap. "Congrats, cutie. Hole in one, and on the last hole. You know what that means, don't you?"
"I won something special?" you answered, clearly curious as to what the special something might be.
"Very special indeed." Lifting the club onto one shoulder, he offered his free arm for you to take. "I take you to my green room."
Green room? "Like for concerts and stuff, you mean?" you asked, hesitant on taking his arm.
He didn't seem to notice, at least you hoped so. "Well, this is basically a place for the band to perform, ain't it? Why shouldn't the band get their own green rooms?" He waited patiently for you to take his arm, still holding it out, but his smile began to harden. "Listen. You looked a little lost when you came in here, so stick with me and everything will be A-okay. Got it?"
His words disguised his temper. A temper you would never be able to fathom. Still a little nervous you took his arm; there was muscle beneath the suit. He was built well.
His smile relaxed a good deal, seeming more genuine now. "I'll lead you to my green room. Sorry about the mess ahead of time," he added.
Wait, he said the green rooms were for the band. But... the "band" are animatronics. Did they pay actors to pretend or something? Cute touch, I guess, but did they have to get someone so scary for this guy?
You walked through the pizzaplex on the arm of the man in the alligator suit. There was a lot of staring and pointing as the two of you made your way deeper into the building, going around things that you knew you would never be able to remember. Without him, you would surely get lost.
"Welcome to my green room. Literally," he added with a chuckle.
It was messy, to say the least. But the walls were a vivid green, with claw marks here and there. A broken neon light lay on the floor nearby.
Those claw marks...
"Who are you supposed to be? I mean... you said this was your green room..."
His grin returned, showing off those eerily sharp teeth again. "Montgomery Gator, at your service, pretty lady. But you can call me Monty." He leaned in, brushing hair from your ear to murmur into it. "As a matter of fact, I insist."
There was another chill down your back, this one worse than before. Was he... hitting on you? Out in the open? "Will they fire you for flirting with a guest?" you asked before you could stop yourself.
"Why would they? The others do it all the time. And they can't fire such a vital member of the band."
"I... suppose not, but..." you began, but realized that he was shutting the green room door. And locking it. "What are you doing?"
"Freddy likes to check on us. But he knows that if my door is locked that I'm... busy." His grin did not seem to fade as he spoke. "I have a bit of a temper. I lock my door when I'm getting mad, otherwise I might attack someone I'm not supposed to."
You felt your body pressing against the opposite wall, hands flat against it. The man, this "Monty", was he... the real thing? Or just an actor? You couldn't tell.
Does it even matter? This guy has me cornered in the green room!
Monty approached you slowly, with that damn shit-eating grin still on his face. With his sharp teeth and alligator suit, he gave the very distinct impression of being like a real gator. It was unnerving, to say the least.
Leaning in towards you, his lips brushed against the skin of your neck. He always went for the neck, after all- it was his animalistic instincts. He could have sunk his teeth right into your throat if he so chose.
And that thought did not fail to frighten you. But your hands found his broad shoulders, trying to discourage him. Your heart pounded in your chest, knees weakening by the second. "M-Monty, listen... somehow I don't think my prize for getting a hole in one is... you."
"You're clever. It isn't. It's actually just a free slice of pizza, but that's boring. The girl at the counter knows me. I saw you come in, sweetie, I wanted you from that moment. But if you had just walked on by my golf course, I wouldn't have bothered."
Fuck! Why did you have to fucking stop to play a stupid round of golf?!
His breath was hot, and it reeked like something raw. Like a steak that had yet to be cooked or something to that effect. Bloodied, in other words. "Just give in to me and I won't lose my temper."
Your eyes searched the room, all the torn objects and furniture. His temper was a real, tangible thing- a threat. And he currently had you cornered in his room.
What else could you do? Your hands trailed up the back of his neck, bringing his head closer to you, ignoring the smell of blood on his breath.
"That's it, gorgeous. A little rough sex never killed anybody."
Why would he say something like that?!
You swallowed hard. "M-Monty, listen..."
But he didn't want to listen. He pressed his lips to your own, kissing you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth and making you flinch; he even tasted like blood and raw meat. But to pull away now might have set him off, so you instead kissed him right back.
The sharp teeth you had seen, but not his hands. His hands had equally sharp claws, ones that dug into your skin as they roamed your body. The sudden attention put you on high alert, sending more chills down your spine. This was really happening; you had only come to the pizzaplex to relax! Not to get fucked by a gator-man-thing!
The only piece of furniture not completely destroyed was a plush chair in the corner. With a rough motion you were guided to it. "Strip."
Again, you hesitated. But it was clear that Montgomery Gator was used to getting his way- perhaps his temper had something to do with it. So you stripped out of your clothing, leaving them in puddles on the black floor.
"Perfect," he murmured, taking in every inch of you. There was an infliction to his voice that was beginning to worry you. Was his temper already there, lying in wait? He pulled his belt off, undoing his pants and exposing himself to you. Stroking what looked like a terribly large length, you gnawed at your lip, body starting to shake. "On the chair. Hold your legs up with your hands, be a good girl."
When you did as he demanded, his grin returned. Precum oozed at the tip of his cock, dripping down to the floor. You were in the perfect position for him to split you in half; rough sex was the only way to go, after all.
But he knelt in front of you, letting out an unusually large tongue from his mouth and licking up your core. The more he did it, the weaker you became, until it was all you could do to hold yourself together.
He was no gentleman, no, but Monty understood the need for a little foreplay. Otherwise there would be an immense amount of pain on your end- not that he really cared either way. He pressed kisses to your clit before sucking at it, groaning when you started to make sounds.
You were terrified! And yet you knew that it was going to happen one way or the other, and you were determined not to let him rape you. So you tried to will yourself to relax, letting the pleasurable sensations wash over you. Within minutes you were squirming, but did not let go of your legs. His hands spread you open for better access, two fingers deep inside you and pumping vigorously.
As you came, you whimpered, back arching away from the chair beneath you. But you caught a glimpse of his eyes behind his sunglasses; they were glowing white. Swallowing hard, panting raggedly, you opened your mouth to speak. "M-Monty--"
"Shut the fuck up. Talking is such a turn-off." He pushed himself inside without warning you first, making you scream out. God, the pain! Was he going to rip you in two?!
The only thing saving you was how slick you had gotten from your orgasm. Monty began to thrust with abandon, watching you closely as he did so. It took a long few minutes but the pain began to subside at last, leaving you only with the distinct feeling of being stuffed.
You knew that he did not care about your pleasure any longer; you had had your turn, and now it was his. But he was attacking a spot inside that made stars bloom in your vision. "O-oh... god...!" was all you managed.
"Shut up!! How many fucking times do I have to tell you to shut up?!" His large hands went to your throat, choking you, growling loudly. His thrusts went harder still, and with the pain and the lack of oxygen, you knew you were liable to pass out.
You had the feeling that that would not have stopped him.
At last he threw his head back, shoving in one final time before climaxing deep inside of you. At the same time his hands released your throat, making you gasp and cough, needing air. With a rough motion Monty pulled out, still dripping with seed. You were a complete mess, oozing his cum and with bruises now forming around your neck.
He hardly broke a sweat, while you were completely exhausted. His grin reappeared as he fixed himself up with a nearby piece of fabric, tossing it at you when he was done. "Get another hole in one, sugar. I had fun. Didn't you?"