The Truth Is A Lie || Lord Farquaad X Mr. Peanut

Chapter I

"If you give me your golden cum, I'll give you Boardwalk," Mr. Monopoly offers, gesturing his fancy stick at my titanic dick, which almost doesn't fit in my pantaloons.

I gaze up at him, pondering on the thought before stating: "I'll think on it, Big Man."

He nods his head, leaning down towards me, glancing around the room before pulling a card out of his suit, whispering this as he hands it over to me: "Give me a call, Shawty."

Mr. Monopoly scampers away, leaving me alone to go search for my beloved husbando, Ed Sheeran, who is now Ed Farquaad. My eyes scan the packed room full of rich people-as I am at a fancy banquet at our local Femboy Hooters, but all I can see is people's big, phat asses, because I'm so short.

I waddle over to a table and pull out a chair, my junk jiggling in my pants as I waddle over. I clamber onto the chair, struggling to do so because my legs are the size of Kim Jong Un's dick. Once I'm on the chair, I surf over the crowd with my eyes, easily spotting my Eddy Weddy, due to his baby asscheek red hair.

I push my way through the crowd and find my way over to Ed, who is talking to this sexy looking peanut fellow.

"Hey, honey-boo-boo-bear," I purr, with a flutter in my voice near the end of my sentence while tugging on the waistband of his pants to grab his attention.

The handsome ginger looks down at me with an unamused expression etched onto his face-responding with a simple cold and bitter: "What?"

My small smile is quickly whisked from my face, my mood brought down from his cold and sharp remark. I stare down at the cupcake crumbs that are scattered across the wooden floor.

There's a moment of silence between us three, all I can hear is the loud murmuring from the crowds of the other rich folk. After a moment, Ed pipes up in a cheery voice: "I'd like you to meet my friend, Mr. Peanut."

I gaze back up, Ed has his hand gestures toward the so called 'Mr. Peanut,' who gives me a friendly smile while adjusting his monocle, "You're even sexier than Ed had informed me on," He exclaims, leaning to the side to stare at my voluptuous ass, which he gives a big ol' smack, one that's harder than my cock, "He's right, it does jiggle!"

A red hues my cheeks, and not just the ones on my face. I glance over at Ed, who has an irked expression painted on his face, his baby blue orbs glazed over with anger-he then looks over at Mr. Peanut, and then at me again, in which he then grabs me by my hair, because I'm so short he can't grab me by the arm. I moan as he drags me, as I like the hair pulling-in which he gives me a look that ushers me, while inducing a small sense of fear into me. He pulls me to the bathroom, where someone is shooting up heroin in one of the stalls, the handicap one, it's King Julien in a wheelchair, since he broke his legs. As he says, he can "no longer move it, move it, anymore. Ed pushes me into one of the tiny stalls and locks the door, lifting me to stand on the nasty ass toilet to be at eye level with him.

"Listen here, short stuff. I see the way you look at him-I know he may be sexy, but don't you go messing around with him. If you do, there will be consequences," He threatens, gritting his teeth with a small growl in his voice, "Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," I mew back meekly, looking down at the shit stained tile floor.

He gently grabs my chin and leads it up to look him in the eyes; they're more gentle now, relaxed, the anger almost gone, yet there's still an odd glint to them, one that almost looks like guilt.

"Good boy," Ed coos as he takes his tongue and prods my bottom lip with it, swiping his tongue across the fleshing interior, in which I part my lips.

I sling my arms around his neck as he pokes his tongue into my mouth. He grabs my ass, giving it a squeeze before hoisting me onto his waist, in which I wrap my legs around him, tensing my arms grip on his neck as we deepen the kiss.