Fazbear's Southern Hospitality

Ch. Sweet tea with a twist of LEMON

Fazbear's Southern Hospitality

Ch. Sweet tea with a twist of LEMON

-AS IN THIS IS A LEMON CHAPTER...YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!—

This has adult situation, malexmale, and smut. If you are uncomfortable with this types of situation please do not read. MA18. If you are ok with this please come read what dirty things we came up for you.

"Scott?" You call out as you enter the doors of the pizzeria.

"Weird," you think to yourself as you walk down the main hall, "he said he was working today." As you make your way into the main dining area, you notice that the overhead lights were off. Only the security lights running along the top of the walls were on. They were very dim and made a faint humming sound.

"Hello..." Still no reply.

"I have seen enough horror movies to know something is off," you say aloud, "like something is going to happen." You make your way through the restaurant, searching in every room. Still nothing.

"What is going on here...?" As you round a corner that leads to the kitchen, you notice one of the side halls was blocked off by a mess of junk...chairs, boxes, tables...all congested in the narrow path. At the very end you see a subtle glow coming from a room near the end of the hall. It was a soft ember of light and it felt as though it was drawing you in.

"No wonder he couldn't hear me," you think...not acknowledging the allure the light has over you, "he's back here in God's country." You make your way through the maze off reserved supplies, trying to be careful to not cause an avalanche. Closer to the doorway, you hear voices...familiar voices.

"Scott!" You happily think,

"Finally! But wait...who is he with?" Peeking around the threshold you are shocked to see Vincent. He has Scott backed against a side wall, one hand on the wall by his head, the other tracing the buttons of Scott's security shirt slowly down his chest...over his abdomen...to his belt.

Wide eyed, you can feel your face flush with amusement.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...," is all your brain can muster as you fall back from the door, bumping a mop over that was resting in a metal pail. OH SHIT! The fall of the mop and bucket echoes throughout the hall.

"What was that?" You hear Scott ask, "Vincent...we...I mean, I told you..." Vincent hushes Scott with a touch of his finger to Scott's lips.

"Hold that thought, we've got a visitor," Vincent whispers low as he walks lightly away from Scott toward the doorway to the hall...to you. OH SHIT! Panic sets in. Why did you have to knock over that damn mop? (...things were just getting' good!) You turn to try and make your way through the landfill ahead, to get to a place of sanctuary...when you feel a firm grasp on your upper arm. OH SHIT!

"My, my..." Vincent coys as he turns you to face him, "what do we have here?"

"Um...I, uh, you see...that is...," you stammer, not knowing what to say...what to do.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to play," he laughs as he pulls you into the room. Their room. Looking to Scott, your eyes meet. Shyly, he looks away to the floor. You pull your arm out of Vincent's grip.

"Look, I didn't mean," you begin to say.

"No, no," Vincent interrupts, "I'm sorry, but you're not allowed to talk. Not anymore."

"Excuse me?!" You declare, "Like hell you can..." Silence. Vincent grabs you by the chin, your face brought to his.

"(yn)...," you like the sound of your name as it floats from his mouth...it sounds so...dirty. He traces your lower lip with his thumb causing it to tremble, "didn't I just tell you that you are not to talk." A feeling of want begins to build within you...a lustful desire. He grabs you by the arm again and walks you over to Scott.