Cartoons, Nerdery

Fan Fiction Friday: Squidward and Squilliam in “Frailty”

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?Not familiar with Squidward and Squilliam? Then you obviously don’t watch SpongeBob SquarePants, the cartoon beloved of children and drug-abusing hipsters the world over. It’s also beloved of author Tampon Masturbation — I’ll just let his name sink in for a minute — although that didn’t stop him from writing a story where Squidward “hatefucks” Squilliam.

He tasted afraid.

Cold sweat and hot breath, pants of nervous
anticipation, teal flesh clammy and tremulous, pale against his
captor’s.

Fear. Squidward had never expected to taste such emotion
from his rival. It was delicious, truly breathtaking. Another harsh
kiss now, biting down on quivering bottom lip, teeth grinding until
blood was drawn.

Squilliam gasped sharply, tugging futilely at his
bonds. “S-Squiddy . . .?” A trickle of red swerved down his neck,
staining the collar of his silken robe.

The dull eyed octopus
failed to respond, analyzing the blood before lowering himself, halting
the path with his tongue, suckling at Squilliam’s Adam’s apple. Hungry
lips trailed the thin male’s neck, savoring the rapid heartbeat of his
almost lover.

If nautical rape and brutal torture be something you wish, then drop on the deck and flop like a fish. Also, hit the jump.

“You’re afraid of me,” Squidward spoke calmly, eye of the storm,
pulling back and staring into Squilliam’s wide eyes.

“H-Hell yes
I’m afraid of you, freak!” Squilliam snapped, face flushed as he
trembled once more in the ropes. “What am I doing in your dingy little
shack? And tied up no less. And why are you . . .” He trailed off,
trademark smirk gracing his face, sunny on his bleeding lips. “Why
Squiddy, I had no idea you felt so strongly for me.”

Squidward
didn’t respond, drawing away from the bound man silently, face carefully
neutral.

“Of course, someone as fabulously wealthy as myself
would never be seen with a peasant the likes of you,” Squilliam chuckled
softly, though his voice tapered off after a moment. “Are you even
listening to me?”

“No, not really,” His back was turned to the
millionaire, indifference clear even in the incline of his shoulder
blades.

“Don’t you dare ignore me!” A stream of blood gushed from
his punctured lip as he yelled, voice edged with annoyance.

“Squilliam,
I know you’re not very intelligent,” Squidward smiled kindly a he
turned around, hands folded neatly behind his back.

“Not very
intelligent . . .? Squiddy, I was the honor student, not you”

Still
living in the past. Typical Squilliam. Squidward’s smile broadened. His
rival was making this much too easy. “Then you should understand this.”
His eyes sparkled in the dim bedroom lighting, hands presenting
themselves.

Magnificent, really. Seven inches of stainless steel,
freshly sharpened blade. The handle was the caress of a lover, cradling
perfectly in Squidward’s palm.

You thought it was a dildo at first, didn’t you? Yeah, me too.

“It’s advisable not to insult the
guy holding a knife.”

Squilliam’s eyes flickered from Squidward’s
blank expression, to the laughing shimmer of metallic pain. This didn’t
make sense. Things like this didn’t happen to Squilliam Fancyson.

And
it was with that, the complete and utter nonsense of it all, that
Squilliam passed out, falling back and eyes shutting against Squidward’s
bed.

I’ve read ahead, and I’m telling you Squilliam has the right idea. If you can pass out now and avoid what’s on the way, you’ll be in much better shape.

“Wake up, sweetie.”

“Hnn?” A soft groan from chapped
lips as maroon eyes swam in and out of focus, finally taking in the tip
of blue nose. Squilliam blinked, eyes adjusting as he focused on the
rest of Squidward’s face. Kind face. Smiling face.

Squilliam
snarled, arms tensing as he reached out to smack Squidward away.

Only
to painfully recall his bondage. There was no reaching out for
Squilliam.

And now recalling the rest. Oh god, the rest. The kiss,
the empty looks.

The knife.

Squilliam shut his eyes,
desperately attempting to will this situation away. When he opened his
eyes, he’d be safe in his satin sheets, bundled up and warm. Protected.

Eyelids
fluttered open, hope plummeting soon thereafter. No, still tied down to
Squidward’s bed with no clue as to the cashier’s intentions.

“What
. . .” He paused, hesitating for once. Was it smart to ask Squidward
his plans? It was worth a shot. “What are you going to, uh, to do to me,
Squiddy?”

Squidward raised an eyebrow, slightly perplexed at the
male’s question. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, actually, it isn’t!”
Fuck! Not smart to snap at the crazy guy. Squilliam held his breath,
waiting for some sort of retribution for the outburst.

Squidward
just smiled, “Well, Squilliam, I’m going to rape you.”

Held breath
was now stuck, hitched in Squilliam’s throat, voice scarcely more than a
whimper. “R-rape . . .?”

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?

“Oh yes. I mean, we both know
you’re a total top, right?” Squilliam nodded slowly, admitting that
much. “So your ass is still completely virginal. And that’s all that
matters.”

Squilliam couldn’t respond, shook up by Squidward’s
frankness. “But . . .” It would be meaningless to ask why, wouldn’t it?
Hell, Squilliam had made Squidward’s life hell in high school. Was this
just some twisted type of payback? The unibrowed male had always known
Squidward was bitter, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of
bitterness.

No. This was past bitter. This was insane.

Squilliam doesn’t have any idea. I mean, you know that a story where Squilliam merely rapes Squidward wouldn’t be quite enough for FFF material, don’t you?

“Do you love me, Squilliam?”

The bound
cephalopod didn’t hesitate, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Yes, Squiddy, I adore
you!” He’d feel anything Squidward wanted. Anything to get out of this.

Squidward
laughed. “You’re such a liar, Squilliam. Sometimes I think you don’t
even know the truth.” He smirked, rubbing his left palm over Squilliam’s
outer right leg.

“N-no, I’m not lying. I DO love you.”

“You
just don’t want to be fucked,” Squidward tightened his hold on
Squilliam’s leg, letting his knifed hand swoop down. “That’s alright.
You’ll fall for me soon enough. I’ll be all you have.”

Squilliam
opened his mouth to reply, to argue and sweet talk, to say anything,
anything at all, but the words eluded him, replaced instead by the hot
sting of metal on sensitive flesh. He gasped, looking down to find
Squidward pressing the knife at the junction between leg and hip.

“S-Squiddy!
What are you doing?”

“I’m going to cut your legs off,” Again,
complete honesty, spoken in that shallow, unfeeling voice, smile pulling
his face tight. “I’m going to quite literally knock you down a peg or
two.” He laughed at his little joke, finding nothing but humor in this
situation.

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?

“Why? I thought you were just going to . . . to . . .”
His eyes were filling with tears now, throat choking up.

“Go ahead
and cry, Squilliam. You look absolutely gorgeous when your heart is
breaking,” Squidward pressed the knife down harder now, not slicing,
just testing the pressure, the softness of flesh. “And I’m still going
to fuck you, don’t worry.”

“You’re a sick bastard!” Squilliam
couldn’t brush away the tears flowing freely down his face. “Fucking
necrophiliac.” Hiccupping on his own sobs now.

“I never said I was
going to kill you. Just hold still.” Without bones, it should be easy
to cut through Squilliam’s tendons and muscles.

Squidward’s really thought through the reality of dismembering a living anthropomorphic squid. As has the author, obviously.

“God, Squiddy,
don’t! Please don’t!” Groveling now. Anything, god, fuck dignity. Not
his legs. Not his fucking legs.

He screamed as the knife punctured
his flesh, cold breeze piercing the initial incision. “OH GOD! STOP!”

Squidward
didn’t reply, sawing the blade back and forth, tearing through veins
with ease, if not precision.

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?

Squilliam writhed on the bed. Wasn’t
he supposed to have an adrenaline rush now? Something to make it easier
to break away? But he felt weaker now, ropes suffocating as the knife
dove in and out of his flesh. Squilliam’s eyes shut, still unable to
block out the pain.

A paradise of pain, a masochistic orgy of
pain. Squilliam spasmed, blood an ocean within oceans, a hot red
fountain bathing both males, a baptism for the surgeon Squidward. Blue
sheets washed in red. Purple, mixing colors now. Walls splattered.

It
was almost cartoonish in its intensity. So much blood, all from one
simple limb.

CARTOONISH GET HYUK HYUK HYUK oh god a kid’s cartoon squidman is dismembering another cartoon squidman wwwhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyy

“It’s not so bad, is it, love?” Squidward pulled the
knife back, wiping the blade on Squilliam’s robe before slamming the
knife back down on the gristled leg, completely disengaging. Squidward
tenderly moved the leg off the bed, setting it on the ground before
grabbing the lighter, flame licking at the open leg socket.

He was
doing this for Squilliam’s own good. Stop the bleeding. Hell, he had a
lot planned for his rival. Couldn’t risk losing him after just one
simple operation.

Now wait a second. Aren’t these people under water? How the hell does he have a working lighter? I mean, I can believe that one SpongeBob SquarePants character would go mad and amputate another character’s limbs against his will in advance of raping him, but a lighter? THAT’S A LITTLE FAR-FETCHED, SIR.

He leaned down, bloody lips leaving their mark
on Squilliam’s forehead as the octopus kissed him, “Only three more legs
to go.”

I’m going to edit out oh, about 300 words of graphic Squilliam mutilation, as well as Squlliam weeping because he’ll never walk again, and you’re still going to be horrified at how much time ol’ Tampon Masturbation spends describing the torture I didn’t edit out. Impressively disturbing!

Right
arm joined left arm on the ground, lighter dancing over tattered flesh
with a newfound expertise. And still, even uncaring, Squilliam cried,
not fully comprehending why as his mind dipped in and out of
consciousness. Blood and tears carved cold flesh, the slight pressure of
liquid all that was keeping Squilliam grounded.

“Squiddy . . .”
Voice scratched, eyes wide as he gazed up at Squidward. “Squiddy, I’m
thirsty.”

Squidward responded with yet another kiss. Gentle now,
letting his lips warm Squilliam’s, tongue cautiously prying the
millionaire’s mouth open. He pulled back, tossing the knife aside and
stroking Squilliam’s face. “You’re beautiful,” he cooed, trailing
Squilliam’s neck and pausing at blood soaked robe, loosening the belt
holding it shut. “You should see yourself. You’re stunning like this.”

“You look like the calamari appetizer at Red Lobster. What a value!”

A
tremor of pain passed through Squilliam’s body, subsiding after less
than a second. He didn’t respond to Squidward, turning his face to the
side.

Squidward’s hands pulled the belt away, letting his hands
lightly wrap around the fabric of the robe. “You’re mine now.” Delight
of a child at Christmas, finding a puppy under the tree.

A puppy with no legs!

No, more than
that. Multiply that innocent pleasure. “You’ll never leave me.” He
pulled the robe open, letting it fall away from Squilliam’s frail body.

Frail.
Another word Squidward had never expected to link to his once-rival.
But now, limbless, crying and numb and bloody, Squilliam almost seemed
too weak, too broken, shaking body almost instilling guilt in Squidward.

No,
not guilt.

Love.

Squidward’s face softened, genuinely
smiling now as he pet Squilliam’s chest.

Squilliam shuddered,
crying softly as he grew fearful once more. “Squiddy, please–“

“Don’t
worry,” Squidward cradled Squilliam’s head in his hands, kissing the
octopus’s unibrow lovingly. “I’ll be gentle.”

Finally! Some rape! Although call me crazy, but I have my doubts that Squidward will be “gentle.”

And indeed he was,
pulling off his own clothing and sliding into Squilliam smoothly, warm
wetness of blood all the lubrication Squidward needed. Tentacled hands
clasped Squilliam tenderly, careful not to grip scabbed shoulders, legs
careful not to grind lower wounds. Still, that one gentle thrust jolted
Squilliam out of his calm numbness, reawakening broken nerve endings. He
could scarcely breathe as Squidward thrust in and out of him, hard cock
tearing his ravaged body apart.

See? He says “gentle,” but “hard cock
tearing his ravaged body apart” would seem to indicate otherwise.

He managed a moan, unable to
scream even as he felt his burnt flesh burst open, once more spilling
his blood down his sides, down Squidward’s sides. Sweat and tears
caressed his cheeks, unable to be brushed away. Squilliam attempted to
clench his fists, only to remember his arms were useless, on the ground
now, furthering him into the abyss of pain, of misery, of death.

Of
need. Hips rocking as Squidward pumped in and out of him, movements
careful, kind even.

Carefully, kindly tearing his ravaged body apart with his hard cock.

“S-Squiddy!” His back arched a
bit, mind fucked harder than his body as Squidward pounded into him,
still soft, hips ferocious in their tenderness. Squidward reached up,
brushing away Squilliam’s tears before leaning forward, kissing the
broken cephalopod.

Even Squidward was slightly surprised when
Squilliam kissed back, when his pained moans reverberated against his
flesh, carried by an undercurrent of masochistic pleasure, Stockholm
Syndrome synapses serenading Squilliam into the comfortable bows of
insanity.

When even the lunatic who cut off all your limbs and is currently raping you in the ass thinks you’re acting odd, you are definitely acting odd. Sorry.

Squidward panted, pulling back and gripping Squilliam’s
waist, lifting hips up farther. He hissed softly, pressing in as he
climaxed, letting his semen drip out of Squilliam’s entrance, gliding
over empty wounds. He pulled back, scooping Squilliam into his arms. “I
love you, Squilliam.” No more need for cruelty now, prize won.

Only
a slight pause before a reply, more honest and painful than anything
Squilliam had ever admitted, ever felt, before.

“I love you too,
Squiddy.”

THE END. Oh, and just in case you think this is some kind of crack fic, that ol’ Tampon Masturbation wasn’t truly interested in tales of hyperviolent SpongeBob SquarePants rape, feel free to check out any of his 90 other stories, almost half of which are about SpongeBob characters raping each other. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call my cable provider and convince them they need to block Nickelodeon from my receivers.

About Author

Robert Bricken is one of the original co-founders of the site formerly known as Topless Robot, and its first editor-in-chief, serving from 2008-12. He brought the site to prominence with “nerd news, humor and self-loathing” as its motto, raising it from total internet obscurity to a readership in the millions, with help from his savage “FAQ” movie reviews and Fan Fiction Fridays. Under his tenure Topless Robot was covered by Gawker, Wired, Defamer, New York magazine, ABC News, and others, and his articles have been praised by Roger Ebert, Avengers actor Clark Gregg, comedian and The Daily Show correspondent John Hodgman, the stars of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Rifftrax, and others. He is currently the managing editor of io9.com. Despite decades as both an amateur and professional nerd, he continues to be completely unprepared for either the zombie apocalypse or the robot uprising.