The Story of Dib and Zim | By : moonlitwaters Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3877 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
It started when Dib was in bed one night, fantasizing happily about how he would finally capture Zim, about what it would be like when all his hard work had finally paid off.
In his mind, Zim would be strapped nude to an examination table, shivering a little from cold and from fear. Dib would hum to himself casually as he made his preparations, a sound that would make Zim unbelievably nervous. He’d probably spend a little time struggling vainly against the straps, his skin becoming slick and shiny with sweat.
Dib had thoroughly planned out a battery of experiments. He had in mind blood samples, skin samples, x-rays, temperature recordings and a metric poop-load of other things. None of it was fatal, or even very painful, despite all his threats to the contrary. Like hell he was going to damage such a precious specimen. But eager as he was to get to the experiments, first there was the far more important matter of gloating, taunting, and otherwise growing drunk with the power as he lorded his superiority over Zim.
Dib sighed pleasurably imagining it, as he shifted into a more comfortable position.
He would tuck a finger under Zim’s chin, forcing Zim to meet his eyes. Zim would only be able to stand his gaze a few seconds before cringing and looking away.
“Poor little Zim,” he’d say in mock compassion, running a thumb down Zim’s cheek. Zim would shut his eyes and thrust his head to one side, but Dib would just follow him. Slowly, leisurely, he’d brush the tips of his fingers across Zim’s face and neck and shoulders, with the attitude of a new owner inspecting recently-acquired property.
“Get away from me, filthy dirt creature!” Zim would scream, a note of terror in his voice. Dib would smile sadistically. “What’s the matter, Zim? Not afraid of some inferior human, are you?” Then he’d brush a finger teasingly down to the exposed, sensitive flesh of Zim’s belly, and Zim would let out a whine and redouble his attempts to escape. Grinning, Dib would continue his explorations, down Zim’s thighs, over his knees, all the way to the bottoms of his feet. Then he’d amuse himself by tickling Zim’s feet for a while, watching gleefully as Zim bit his lip and struggled not to laugh. After a while, determined to get some kind of response out of his victim, Dib would reach up, wrap his hand around Zim’s scrotum, and squeeze very lightly.
Dib’s eyes snapped open in surprise at that thought. Then they shut tight again as he felt himself become almost painfully hard. He slid his hand between his legs as his fantasy veered off in this new direction.
Zim would cry out, not in fear or pain, but in pleasure. Dib would leaned in close to Zim’s face, so close that their noses were almost touching, and whisper, “What is it, Zim? Don’t tell me you like this. Weird that such a superior being should get so much pleasure from a mere human.”
“I’m not enjoying it!” Zim would protest weakly, but then Dib would wrap a hand around his length, and began to stroke him. Zim would thrust his hips up desperately towards the touch. Dib would stroke Zim harder and harder, until the alien was writhing and begging. Dib would stroke him until he came, spurting thick warm fluid onto Dib’s fingers, crying from the pleasure of it.
Dib would laugh, his breath warm against Zim’s tear-stained cheek, and say, “Who’s the superior being now?” Zim could do nothing except whimper, his face flushed dark purple.
Dib, lying in bed, felt thoroughly embarrassed with himself. But his hand was moving fast between his legs, and his breath was coming harder and harder. The idea of capturing his nemesis, of taking him, of possessing him in every imaginable way, was more than he could stand. He came violently, letting out a small cry as he released into his own hand. It was the best orgasm he’d ever had in his whole life.
“God,” he gasped, once it was finally done. He really must be crazy.
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