|To Sell Oneself
Author: Twisted Ingenue PM
To earn back his most prized possession, Kurt believes the only answer is to sell himself. However, once he starts on this endeavor he realizes that the market is full of lunatics. Submitted for the Glee BAD FIC fest. Challenge word: sell.Rated: Fiction M - English - Parody/Romance - Kurt H. & Puck - Words: 2,897 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 3 - Published: 08-19-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6254236
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: To Sell Oneself
Characters/Pairings: Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, Mario, Luigi
Warnings: Slash, randomness, weirdness, sort of AU, prostitution, dub-con, evil!Finn, offensive themes, some violence, bondage, religious/demonic themes, cross-dressing, insertion of objects other than penises into anuses, and sheer CRACK.
Spoilers: Um…not that I know of.
Disclaimer: YUS. I AM THE RYAN MURPHY, BISHES.
Summary: Bonus points if you find a way to include one or various of the following:-a stress ball, vicodin, a F*R*I*E*N*D*S reference, somebody being backhanded, Q tips, a life size poster of Barbra Streisand.) To earn back his most prized possession, Kurt believes the only answer is to sell himself. However, once he starts on this endeavor he realizes that the market is full of lunatics.
Word Count: 2,639
There was nowhere for Kurt to turn. After a group of gorilla jocks decided that it would be funny if they destroyed his most precious possession aside from his hair and his car.
They had vandalized the life-size Barbra Streisand poster hidden in his locker. The sight of Barbara, a powerful, beautiful woman with a fierce determination, never failed to lift his spirits…even on the worst of hair days.
But now, his Barbra was crumpled in the middle of the football field, coated in spray paint and copious amounts of silly string veiling her beautiful image.
All his hopes and dreams and inspiration had been pushed into the mud. Literally. They just HAD to water the field that day, didn't they? And here Kurt thought that Figgins could only afford green spray paint and Easter basket grass.
So there Kurt was, standing in the middle of a football field, mourning the loss of his treasured poster. The way he saw it, the only solution was to buy another one…
"I can't do that!" Kurt lamented. "Burberry's having a sale this weekend and I'll max out my credit card if I buy a new Barbra poster! And they cost $60.78 at Hallmark…plus tax!"
There was only one thing he could do to earn that money. A loan wouldn't do, nor would a job, saving up allowance, or robbing a bank be any good.
No. The answer was clear. He needed to sell himself.
A tiny red rubber dress with a huge zipper for 'easy access' did the trick. Along with six-inch plastic heels (since he didn't want to sell himself short…haha…get it?), crimson fishnets, and copious amounts of liquid eye make-up, Kurt Hummel was more than ready to sell his body to any willing customer. Surely he would have Barbra back in no time! After all, he had cheekbones that could rival Jennifer Anniston's!
So, there Kurt was in the dead of night on Bean Street in Lima. Everyone in Lima knew that Bean Street (better known as "The Lima Bean" or just "The Bean") was the sketchiest part of town where all the naughtiest misdeeds occurred. Mobs, gangs, drugs, thieves, and even Girl Scouts, ran rampant on Bean Street. Yes, it was the perfect place for Kurt to sell himself.
Whilst applying some Fiery Burgandy 79 Colorstay Lip Stain onto his plump, way-better-than-Angelina-Jolie mouth, he batted his fake eyelashes at every passerby, luring them in with his succubus-like charm, leaning seductively against the brick wall.
But after four hours, all he had accomplished was making a couple of small children cry and earning a cane-to-head smacking from an angered granny.
Just when he was about to call it a night and go home to watch reruns of The Golden Girls, Kurt heard a faint squeaking sound in the alleyway behind him.
SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK—
Kurt whipped around, nearly tripping due to the precarious height of his heels, to see a towering figure lurking in the shadows. He licked his lips, pushing up the inflatable bra he wore under his dress, praying desperately for the mysterious silhouette to emerge from the darkness, ready to buy what the countertenor anxiously yearned to sell.
Suddenly, the neon red light of a Budweiser sign flickered on, revealing the lightly freckled face of the enigma of a man.
Finn Hudson. Finn Hudson with an eerie blood-like glow complimenting the malicious gleam in his eyes and the ominous squeaking sound from the stress toy in his hand.
"Good evening…" Finn purred, leaning against a trashcan before a rather confused Kurt. "What is a delectable soul such as you doing in a place like this?" He advanced on Kurt, grabbing the considerably smaller boy by the wrists with one large hand. His other hand was constantly squeezing the stress toy which appeared to be a small rubber man with a green hat, green overalls, and a black moustache. Whenever Finn's powerful hand constricted around the stress toy's figure, it would squeak and the tiny man's eyes would bulge out to a frightening size.
"Like it?" Without warning, the stress toy was in his face, squeaking nonstop. "His name is Luigi…and he's not for sale."
"I-I am, though." Kurt blurted out. Almost instantaneously, the toy was no longer obscuring his view of the large, predator-like leer on Finn's face.
"Really now?" Suddenly, he was pushed to the ground, dress and heels off in a flash. SQUEAKSQUEAKSQUEAK. In a flash, his hands were bound with something that smelled suspiciously of licorice and Finn was on top of him, free hand playing with the black panties he had on for the occasion. He was utterly terrified, but he kept thinking of Barbra and how she was worth it. He even started playing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" in his head, imagining her rich voice crooning out the lyrics…
"Listen to me!" Finn growled, shoving his hand under Kurt's panties to fondle the hard cock concealed by the black lace. So what if thinking of Barbra Streisand got him a little horny? "I want to know how much you're selling for…" He slowly pushed the panties down, letting Kurt's slender erection curl against his stomach.
"I want...sixty dollars…and seventy-eight cents." The tiny boy responded, tugging at his licorice bonds.
"How could I pass up a deal like that?" Finn hummed with approval, enthusiastically squeaking Luigi. "A body and soul for only sixty bucks…"
"…and seventy-eight cents." Kurt corrected.
"Shut up." Finn pinched one of the gleek's perfectly waxed balls, making him yelp out in pain.
"Stop it!" Kurt squeaked, earning himself a hard backhanded slap across the face, mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood.
"Now…" Finn went on as if he hadn't just backhanded him and flashed the singer a grin. "Before this transaction is to occur…I must see if Luigi approves of you." Suddenly, there was a wetness at Kurt's entrance with a searing burn and a squeak that followed. He struggled against the licorice ropes that held him. But it was of no use and Finn had managed to shove the Luigi doll inside of him
"You crazy fuck!" Kurt screamed, trying to dislodge the stress toy from his anus. "Get it out of me!"
"Shh…" Finn clamped a hand over the boy's lipstick-covered mouth, moving his other hand down to brush against the tiny rubber legs that were sticking out of Kurt's ass, squeezing promply.
As Luigi's eyes bulged inside of him, Kurt's eyes widened as well, letting out a whimper as one of the rubber eyes nudged his prostate gland.
"He likes you." Finn crooned, squeezing the toy repeatedly in order to hear Kurt's tiny, distressed noises. "Now you can sell your soul to me…"
"Sell my soul?" Kurt cried out. "What—?"
A bright white light came from nowhere, cutting the countertenor off. And everything was still.
Noah Puckerman was tossed out on his ass by a couple of pissed off black women in choir robes, landing at the steps of the only black Methodist church in town.
"You can't kick me out just because I'm Jewish!" Puck wailed, gripping the red stress ball in his hand. "Blacks and Jews are supposed to be tight, sistahs!"
"We're kicking you out because you stole from the offering plate, urinated in the communion wine, and you replaced the vicodin we were donating to a hospital in Haiti with…with…oh what was it, Monica?"
"…s-sexual…stimulation pills." The other woman wrinkled up her nose, clutching the cross around her neck. "And we don't appreciate your assumption that all black people like to turn 'Amazing Grace' into a rap." All the onlookers murmured with agreement. "So please…don't return unless you plan to keep our place a holy one!" And with that, the doors were slammed in his face.
There was a long, heavy silence before Puck scrambled up, glaring at the fifth black church he'd been kicked out of. "Oh yeah? Jesus was a Jew, you know!" He growled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he made his way down Bean Street, squeezing his stress ball to relieve his frustration. However, his stress ball was no ordinary toy. At the press of a button, the stress ball morphed into a stress toy. But not just any stress toy. No…at the press of a button, his plain red stress ball became a rubber replica of none other than the coolest video game character in the world…Mario.
Then he heard the squeak. A squeak that could only mean…
"Luigi." Puck snarled, pulling out his LED flashlight and following the sound of the squeaking.
And that's when he found a demon leaning over one of the most beautiful souls he had ever seen.
"You." Finn scowled, standing up to face his arch nemesis
"You." Puck stalked towards his former friend, tossing his flashlight to the ground and looking into eyes that were engulfed by black. "You're a demon now?"
Kurt writhed against his restraints, attempting to flee the awkward scene, but it was to no avail.
"Sold my soul to the devil and it got me this…" Finn bent down over Kurt and yanked the Luigi doll out of his ass, holding it up for Finn to see. "Now I collect souls for him."
"Dude…you sold your soul to the devil for a Luigi stress toy?" Puck chuckled, fingering the moustache on his own rubber doll. "Man, nobody even likes Luigi!"
Suddenly, Finn lunged at him. "Take that back!" Soon, the two were rolling on the ground, throwing punches, kicks, bites, and scratches at one another while Kurt watched them in horror.
"Guys!" he shouted out instinctively, surprisingly causing the two to freeze and look at him. "What are you two doing?" Kurt bit his lip, rather unsure of why exactly he was trying to make peace between them. Maybe it was because he hated violence and discord. Or maybe he just wanted them to pay attention and fucking untie him. "You both used to be best friends. Inseparable. Sort of like Chandler and Ross…" From the blank look on the boys' faces, it was clear that neither of them had ever watched F*R*I*E*N*D*S. "Erm…never mind." He cleared his throat. "Anyway…what you two had was special. Do you really want to do away with that?"
There was a brief moment where the two boys looked in each other's eyes, searching for the friendship that had once been there. Soon, the two came to the conclusion that there wasn't any left and they resumed fighting.
If Kurt had his hands free, he would have done a facepalm.
"My Mario is SO much cooler!" Puck socked his former friend in the gut, observing as Finn doubled over.
"Oh really?" Finn panted out. "Mine gives…prostate stimulation."
"Oh yeah?" Puck seized his Mario and marched up to Kurt, easing the stress toy into the slender teen's ass. "Mine vibrates!" He pushed a button on Mario's boot and the captured boy was squirming and moaning beneath him as the vibrations sent fierce pleasure through his veins.
Before the womanizer knew it, he was drinking in the sight of the stunning, debauched form of Kurt Hummel, in total awe of the beauty writhing under his heated gaze. Pushing off the inflatable bra, he slowly began fingering the tiny, rosy buds on Kurt's milky smooth chest, groaning with sheer lust and unbidden desire as the boy came all over himself, painting his ivory skin with sticky, white fluid. The scream that came from his lips was so captivating that Puck could hardly breathe.
"You know…" The sound of Finn's drawl snapped Puck out of his dreamlike state and he took Mario from Kurt's anus (not without catching a glimpse of the twitching, gaping hole), standing up to face the soul-snatcher. "I only need his soul, really. If you want his body…" Puck stiffened, hearing Kurt's tiny whimper. "Or…" The giant of a teen trailed off, offering the slightly shorter man a toothy grin.
"Or what, Hudson?" Puck snapped, wincing as Finn's Luigi squeaked.
"Or…" Finn advanced towards him until they were practically nose-to-nose. "I'll let you have both if…"
"If you sell your Mario stress toy to me."
"WHAT?" Puck's jaw dropped, clutching the little rubber man to his chest. "Nuh-uh! No way, Hudson!"
There was an angered glint in the quarterback's eye that lingered for only a second before his expression softened and he smiled. "Suit yourself, Puckerman. Have fun with your little lifeless body."
"No…Barbra-!" was all that Kurt managed to get out before Finn snapped his fingers.
Then everything went dark.
"Dude…you with me?"
When Kurt's eyes fluttered open, all he could see was a blinding light that made him feel like his head was being split open. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the excruciating pain.
Suddenly, his mouth was being forced open and two bitter-tasting tablets were shoved down his throat along with a plastic cup of water being pushed against his lips.
"Vicodin's a painkiller, I think…" The same deep voice that had awoken him spoke again. "I dunno…stole it from a black church. Stupid anti-Semi-tits…"
"Semitists." Kurt corrected the voice. Even with a killer headache he was inclined to point out a common gorilla's errors.
"Whatever." The voice grumbled. It was then when all of Kurt's memories came flooding back to him and almost immediately, he knew to whom the voice belonged—
"Noah Puckerman?" he whispered, opening his eyes to see the man in front of him. All muscles, tan, plush lips, and stupid hair. "Am I…?"
"You have your soul." Puck answered, already knowing what he was going to ask.
Kurt rubbed his eyes in disbelief, grimacing when he noticed the black smudges on his fingers. "Ugh…I'm never putting that much eye make-up on again. Do you have any eye make-up remover?" The countertenor slowly felt the pain melting away, suddenly feeling rather woozy.
"Uhh…I have Q-tips…" Puck shrugged, smirking at Kurt's dazed state. Hair mussed, eyes bleary, lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed… "But aren't you concerned at all about how you have your soul and body still in-tact?"
"Yeahhh…" Kurt attempted to stand up from the bed he was in but ended up stumbling into Puck's lap. "What did you do?"
Puck smiled at the boy in his lap, warmth rising up inside of him as he realized that Kurt was all his…body and soul. But at the brunet's inquiry, his eyes flickered up to the shelf in his bedroom. His gaze trailed past all the basketball trophies, porn magazines, and video games until it rested upon an empty space. A space that his beloved Mario stress toy once occupied.
"We just…talked it out." Puck replied, running his fingers through the silky brown locks of the loopy kid in his lap. "Turns out that he didn't need your soul after all." He held Kurt to his chest, resting his chin against the diva's head. "But you know what that means, right?"
"Mm?" Kurt lifted his head up, nearly cross-eyed when he looked up at the mohawked boy.
Puck's lips curled into a smirk as he produced two bills and some loose change from his pocket. A fifty dollar bill, a ten dollar bill, three quarters, and three pennies. Sixty dollars and seventy-eight cents. Wordlessly, he placed the money in the shirt pocket of the pajamas that he had Kurt wearing, buttoning the flap closed.
When this only earned him a bemused expression from Kurt, he leaned in to whisper in the boy's ear,
"You sold yourself to me."
He pressed a kiss to Kurt's cheek and chuckled as the singer stiffened before going limp in his arms.
And they both lived happily ever after because at least Kurt got to buy a new life-size Barbra Streisand poster.