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Velma and The Masked One: Recut	By : TimedWatcher Category: +S through Z > Scooby Doo Views: 19353 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Scooby Doo, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Velma and The Masked One: Recut
- 1
I see you have good taste. This is a remixed version of the Velma story with the added spice of her being a dickgirl. It starts out the same but there's a divergence that you will definitely notice.

Staring forth, from behind two pin holes that had been meticulously cut in an old oil painting and the wall itself, stood a man. A man who had been living here for years now. The details exactly were unimportant. His eyes shifted from place to place. Body almost melded to the wall. Eying the... children. CHILDREN. That had entered here. There were many like them. Some younger, some older. They were all children as far as he was concerned. He had them pegged right away. The whore. The gangly cipher. The brainless blond. The inbred canine.
Except one. One had caught his eye. What was it? The auburn hair? The spectacles? Her clothing? Maybe it was the fact that she was the complete opposite to what was considered the "beauty" in this group? The unconventional shapeliness she had was barely contained in that sweater of hers. Was that it? There had to be more to her. A spark. An idea. Something had to be in her that made her special.
"Alright gang! Let's split up!"
Much appreciated you imbecile. Separating like this would have made them easy pickings. Yet there was only one thing on his mind.
Skulking through the passage way, he tightened up against a wall and slid across it to bypass the fracture that was split into an opening to another part of his dwelling. Here lay a gaggle of knobs, levers, switches and pumps. He had faint to little understanding of how all these tricks and traps were connected in the first place. All he needed to know was when a bulb lit up, it was his cue to pull it.
A green hue flashed over him. It was time. Pushing into and then yanking a large lever, he could feel the mechanisms without even having to see them. Within a moments notice, she would be tumbling down into another sector of the house. He would make sure to greet her well.
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Emerging from a crawl space, he followed down a dark path. He was never lost. There was always a light at the end of the tunnel. Even more important than the light, was the girl. His mind imagined her descent from the slide and finally landing down here through the square hole in the ceiling. There were many entrances and exits down here. He was never worried about them escaping. Anybody who didn't know would get lost in a darkened maze. A darkened maze which he knew well.
However escape seemed to be the last thing on her mind. She was on the ground, on her hands and knees, focused on something. She was patting around herself fruitlessly. He lent down and took a look at her. Catching a glimpse of her beady eyed, freckled face churned his insides in the best way possible. He realised the problem pretty quickly. "My glasses! I can't see without my glasses!" she said to no one in particular. It didn't take long for him to scan the room to find the thick square frames. Stepping to pick them up and making himself present, he heard her voice. "Sh-Shaggy? Scooby? Is that you?"
Picking them up with a pinch grip (the part where it would normally rest upon ones nose) he turned back to the girl attempting to squint in his general direction. Holding out the pair of glasses, she reached forward with uncertainty but quickly yanked them from his grasp. "Thanks I..." She had just placed them on before finishing and let out a small yelp. He didn't mean to frighten. He was thankful however, considering women, she could have gone on longer.
The mask he wore wasn't just meant to hide him and frighten the weak. It was to protect them from the icon. Of course, there may have been the fact that you could see his rib cage plain as day, or the peasant pants held up by a rope he wore. He was a strange looker. Maybe she could understand.
"You're... you're the ghost haunting this place?" He nodded his head. If that's what she wanted to call him. "Jinkies. This is the first time. I've ever been friendly with one of you. Or that one of you have been friendly to one of us." He stood, unsure of what to think. One of us who? She giggled with a light hearted smirk. "I guess I get to be the one to unmask the monster."
That sentence turned his blood to ice. However it began to thaw. Then it began to boil. He thought she would be different. That she would understand. Nothing could ever be that simple for him. Seeing her dainty, beautiful hands coming towards him, he was snapped out of his listless state. That's when he leapt towards her.
Grabbing both her forthcoming wrists, he crashed against her body, sending them both into a wood wall that had been behind her. She bounced for a second off of it but was immediately forced back against it, with her hands being held above her head. He smiled as he stared into her pained eyes. She suffered the brunt of it as expected. "Ah... was it the monster comment?" He stood unmoving. "Or the unmasking part?" He shook his head yes at that one. "I'm sorry for that. It's just what we... I, usually do." You want to let it out? How many of them have you freed in your careless unmasking crusade? He wanted to confront her with this. Say these things. Yet he was lock jawed.
Struggling against him for a second, she gave up. It was funny. If you saw them, you would wonder how she was so overpowered. She had the height and weight advantage. Yet, here was this small guy, able to hold her in place. "I'm..." She pushed against him in between words. "Velma." She ended, sounding out of breath.
"Velma." Had that come out? He was surprised. He never figured he was capable of speaking. He was about to wonder if the voice that came out shocked her as much as it did him. According to her face, she was even more so.
"Listen. You're not in trouble or anything. We're just trying to figure out why you're spooking here in the first place." Trouble? Hah. Is that what they call what he was doing? There were far more pressing matters than what he had been doing here.
Pressing matters indeed. With their bodies pressed so close together, he hadn't realised he had been rubbing against these sweater puppies as he had been. With her hands held tight, he pulled back from her. He stared down at her orange sweater. It didn't seem like much was there. Had he imagined it? Letting her hands slip from his grip, he grabbed at the meaty protrusions. Yes. Yes there was something more to them.
"Hey bucko, what do you think you're doing?" Pulling out her sweater which had been tucked into her red skirt, he had minimized what little defense her body had to outside forces. Sliding his hands up her larger than average stomach, he could feel the creaminess of her body and the goosebumps building as he reached his destination. His hands separated at the two peaks. He had misjudged however, in that there was something more separating him and her body, yet he needed to make his advance. He looked into her eyes, her fear of the situation was palpable, and as she was about to open her mouth, he squeezed them. Instead of a speech or an argument, her mouth opened into a moan. There was a squishy softness with a lot of give. However he wanted to taste the true texture with his hands, and that could only be done if this entrapment around her was gone.
Following the straps of linen over the course of her shoulders, it all converged at one point. Whatever he considered to be his forte when it came to locks and traps, seemed to fall away. As the bind back here kept him further away. Keeping her up against the wall as she attempted to push him away, while trying to undo this antiquated contraption was a hard task, even for one so like himself.
"Hang on, you can just... just... Stop!" He couldn't believe it, being thrown back like he was. Thrown aside like so much trash. His elbows skid across the ground as he landed. It also served to keep him from going too far away, although now he wished he continued flying away just so she wouldn't see him in this wreck of a pile he was. He looked away from her. There was only so much a woman like her could take he figured. Here he was. Sitting in the mess that was his own defeat. This mask was meant for more. He still felt its presence. Its control. What did being defeated like this mean?
"Sorry. You've got long finger nails. It was starting to hurt, ya know?" Propping himself up on his elbows, his fingers uncurled, the nails coming into view. She didn't lie. They were long, crooked and had jagged points going every which way. There were long lines and clumps of blackness underneath each nail as well. He wondered if he was missing these miniature daggers, that he'd still be upon her like he was. "Here..." The voice was implying something. His eyes wandered back to her, but with trepidation. He was fine with whatever punishment she would employ. Just not one that required him to see her gloating face.
What he saw instead of a victorious woman, was as unbelievable to him as the idea of taking off his mask.
Not acknowledging him as she did it, she stood hunched as her hands disappeared up her sweater. With a raised eye brow and a minute movement of her lip, her hands formed together in the front, and with that they slipped out. Not alone, however. There was the device of chaste that restricted her chest of flesh, it was quickly dropped to her side. She then criss crossed her arms at the hem of the sweater and pulled. It worked up her body, revealing a slightly pudgy build. Her stomach spilled outward, almost expanding, the skin around her belly button was especially stretched as it would normally be just a hole, but instead it was like it had been flattened and spread by her fat. Yet. The white skin of hers was perfect, with nary an imperfection. More importantly however, was that sweater of hers that had once enveloped beauty, was now going to release it, not for the world or anybody else, but for me. What an honour. What a privilege.
As if to tease him, where they would have normally been revealed on any other girl, they had been captured into the sweater as she was pulling it up. He would have dived at her right now if she wasn't giving him this opportunity. His eyes bulged in his sockets even at the sights of her under boob.
That's when they finally flopped out. Those magnificent mammaries, drooping out like they did. They weren't a bouncy set as I've been led to believe. They were a heavy set and mouth watering pair. They'd certainly be more than a mouthful. In the smallest portion of his periphery, he saw her thin lips faffing about. Her light raspy voice was giving him a warning. One he couldn't comprehend while staring at her slightly inflamed inverted puffy nipples. He wanted her. He wanted her like a starving dog wanted a steak.
She lifted her skirt, revealing her rather considerable cotton white panties. The size of them wasn't just meant for her well proportioned body. There was something else. The outline of...
A bulge.
True beauty always had to have an imperfection. This was her bane.
Those hands of hers slipped to the sides of her undergarments, and slipped them loose with her thumbs. He got to see a preview of her and what she wielded, when just for a moment, it held on, imprinting her length. Even seeing it like that didn't sway him. She was giving him a chance he didn't deserve, a treat for his failure. His body did what was natural in his position.
Crawling.
Subservience wasn't uncommon for him. Even with her chest lumps hanging in plain view, he stayed down. Understand though, he wanted to leap up and ravage her every which way. However he hadn't earned that right.
Writhing upon the floor, he lurched forward. He hoped the display hadn't disturbed her to the point of reneging on her offer. By the way it pulsed between her legs, she seemed as determined as he was in all this. His hands slithered into the indents of the wall behind her, struggling like a man on the side of a cliff. He rose up from part to part of her. From her ankles to her thighs to her... thing... past that and up beyond the smoothness of her stomach were her heaving bosoms. If only his mask weren't so restricting and his fingers not so dangerous...
His palms. Of course. He thrust them both out, digits wide. Going slowly, hoping to not cause any further trepidation than they've already caused, the softs of his skin finally met the much differing bumps present in her nipples. Her breath sucked in deep, and her eyelids closed him out. He didn't know much about this kind of thing, but he guessed she was enjoying it. Which made him want to do it more and more. He began circling them, the tufts of fat pleasing to the touch.
Another forceful shove. This time it didn't catch him off guard. Had he done something wrong?
She turned to face the other way, bending forward, her hands using the wall as leverage as she jutted out her lower half in his direction. The pale skin in between the flesh tone highlighted her ass in a way that had unable to control his hand. Placing it on top of the plumpness of it, he let out an audible exclamation of his appreciation of that behind she possessed. This was the kind of thing a young child would imagine a cloud was made of. The size of it hid everything. In this position, he couldn't even see... it. Not that he thought about it in anyway, as the crevice that was created between her cheeks was mesmerizing.
His fingers tapped along the perfect globes. This moment was to be savoured after all, but a starving man could only wait so long. He spread her, like revealing a long lost treasure. That puffing pink pucker... winking at him. It was waiting for him. It was made for him. He even dared to think that he would tear his mask away just to get a taste of it.
The point in his pants was begging to get out and into her, but he was going to wait for her go, as always. Velma seemed distracted. He tilted his hand to see her sucking a middle finger into her mouth. Was that what she wanted from him? Then the lone manicured finger vanished below her body, slipping past her smooth sack and into that portal of hers. He wondered if a nail like that going in there hurt, but he wasn't one to criticize considering the blades he wielded. "Please be gentle." She said, peering nervously over her shoulder while working herself over. He would be, as she so demanded.
He freed himself from his pants, now ready to receive the gift of pleasure she was offering. Getting closer to her, that finger of hers finally left like scared villagers when the big bad monster stepped into town and that window of hers she left open for him was slowly closing. Pressing the tip against the soft muscle, he was hoping to tease her, to show her what she had been missing, but instead, it seemed to tease him as he felt it almost trying to ensnare around him. Even in her position, being bent before him, seemingly the one at a disadvantage, she still was the one in control calling the shots.
He must have been dazed, thinking about her body, as she proved her role in being the instigator by pushing out towards him, engulfing the head of his rod. He almost stopped her before she could forcefully impale herself. Instead, he worked with her, placing a hand on the cleft of her buttock and a hand at her back before seeing himself slowly disappearing inside her. Being in that tight twitching hole that was now accepting his only form of gaining pleasure, wasn't part of his original plan, but this was beyond what he had thought this would entail.
It was better.
She pulled away, he did likewise, but only just enough to where his bulbous point wasn't able to get out of that warm hole. He pushed inside her again, only for her to gasp suddenly, not expecting him to rush in like he had done. She didn't seem to know what to do, maybe she was scared. Or maybe she was letting this dog have his day. Raising himself on the tips of his toe nails, as even with his hands on her ass and trying desperately to force himself inside her, it didn't feel like he had enough of her. For awhile, there was nothing but the sound of rhythmic ass beating every time he collided with her. Their rutting was sweaty and the insides of her ass were swampy and inviting, spurring him on.
Then they snapped. He lost balance.
He fell against Velma, forcing her body upright into the wall as he got right into her. Every sensitive part of her body began grazing against it. His head fell upon her shoulder, and she thrust her head back against his. One look between them was all it took before their foreheads met like butting goats, wanting each other more than anything. He was so close, so into it, that his wild grunting was even fogging up her glasses. Her mouth hung open lewdly, she seemed almost disappointed about something. Expecting maybe a kiss... No. Never. It was impossible with the mask on. This was his mission. He was nothing but a preprogrammed slate in the cog of something bigger.
Yet she...
Going against everything his mind and body were telling him through electric bolts throughout his nerves, he grabbed the corner, then another, and began to try and pull, but something was holding him back. His forehead flared. Not in pain, but warning him not to go further. He thought to give up, but Velma went from a look of lustiness to a look of appreciation over what he was trying to do.
It came off.
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It was late in the evening now. Besides the stirring red and blue lights emenating from a few police cars and an ambulance, it was dark out. He stood now, blanket wrapped around his naked form. He lifted his makeshift poncho, exposing his arm to the cold as he reached for a hand shake. They seemed uneasy about it, but at least the guy in the scarf was willing to accept it. Reaffirming his grasp, he couldn't stop thanking them. The red head waved, but the tall hairy one hid behind her along with a huge dog. He couldn't blame them. He was a mess. Skinny as a rail, everything you could name was unkempt. His hair... now that was something crazy. As crazy as this whole situation. Oh and the smell...
They seemed to want to get going. He didn't want to hold them any longer than necessary. Just as he was sure he wouldn't see them again, Velma got out of the van. So that's where she had gotten to. She stood across from him, her head was tilted, her eyes out of sight and only the rims of her glasses visible. He held out his hand for her, but it almost felt like she was saying no without saying no. He was about to put it down when she grabbed him. He wanted to smile but realised his teeth might look like hell, so he gave a slight lip purse. "I'm Rick, by the way." Rick... how did that come to him? She didn't seem to want to let go as he raised and dropped their clasped hands again. He let out a slight awkward "heh", unsure of what to do.
"Take it." Take what... oh. He scrunched his hand as he pulled away from her. It was a crumpled piece of paper with her name and number on it. He knew he felt something between them... their hands he meant.
She tussled a bit of hair behind the back of one of her ears, feeling like she could just die trying to do this. "You know I'm not always traveling with the gang. Maybe you'd like to get together sometime?"
His heart was thumping in that tiny chest of his. He was pretty sure she could hear it. Rick didn't think twice. "I'd love to."
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Velma and The Masked One: Recut