Content Warning: This is a short fiction post inspired by DrawKill’s Goretober Prompt List. It may contain violence, gore, creepy shit, sexy shit, or all of the above.
Also this is a ridiculous erotica idea involving scene queens and screamo band boys, and references to bands I used to listen to on repeat. I wrote it in like three days and it contains some of the most ridiculous lines I’ve ever crafted. Take this story too seriously and I’ll stab you with a spork.
“Laaaadies and gentlemen, welcome to our Class of 2008 Halloween Hell Nights! The gates are about to open, the moon is nearly full, and it is the perfect night for your worst nightmares to come out and play! Get ready for fun…and terror! Muhahaha!”
I laughed, almost inhaling a french fry. I couldn’t take the voice over the loudspeaker seriously, and not just because of the cheesy over-done lines. I knew Garrett was back there on the other end of that microphone, and my little brother sounded exactly like the air-headed stoner dude that he was. I swear I even heard him cough on his joint at the end of his fake evil laugh.
“Gar-Bear putting a little spin on it, really getting into the role I see,” Kay-Lynn didn’t look up from her Blackberry as she commented, her glittery pink acrylics flying over the keys. Poor Garrett had had the biggest crush on Kay ever since middle school. She was way out of his league, but that didn’t stop her from teasing him with her little nicknames and asking him if he liked the pattern on her bra that always peeked out from her tight layered tank tops. I knew for a fact that he saved every new selfie she put up on MySpace. His iPhone background, last time I saw it, was her tits almost bursting out of a BMTH t-shirt.
“Yeah, he gets super into Hell Nights,” I said. “At least he picked up one cool thing from me.”
Kay had a laugh that always sounded rehearsed, so I was never sure if she was laughing with me or…at me. But she had always been a good friend, and for me it made up for her usual bitchy attitude. She’d held my hand when I got my tongue pierced – then re-pierced it in the high school bathroom when my mom made me take it out. She’d brought the booze to my 18th birthday party, and didn’t let anyone get pictures of me when I was passed out in my own vomit. And, tonight, there was a good chance that thanks to her I would finally be hooking up with the guy I’d been drooling over since 9th grade.
“Oh cool, Taylor says they just parked,” Kay perked up immediately, tossing down her phone on the picnic bench we were seated at and rustling through her purse until she found a mirror and lip-gloss. “How’s my hair look?”
“Still good,” I said. Kay’s hair always looked good. Bleached platinum blonde with 20″ extensions, I honestly didn’t know how it could look bad. She thrust the mirror at me when she was done with it, so I could reapply some clear gloss to my own lips.
“Ugh, bitch I keep telling you to tease the back,” she said, exasperated, as she came around to my side of bench with a plastic comb in one hand and a mini can of hairspray in the other. “Hold still, you’re falling flat.”
As Kay back-combed the body back into my black hair, I had a nervous look around the football field that had been transformed into Hell Nights for Halloween weekend. We were still sitting near the entrance, where three food trucks formed a semi-circle around some old blue plastic picnic benches. Students and alumni wandered around the carnival games, some of them in full costume and some just in hoodies and jeans. Beyond the carnival games, three wooden gates painted gray and strewn with fake cobwebs would eventually be letting us into the mazes beyond. Kay and I had both worn clip-in devil horns, her’s black and mine cherry red. I guess you could say I was wearing a costume right? After all, when I’d left the house in red ripped skinny jeans, converse laced up to my knees, and Bullet For My Valentine shirt, my mom told me I looked like a “devil worshiper.”
She’d thought she was being insulting, but I loved that shit. If old people weren’t a little disgusted when they looked at me, then I was definitely having a bad day.
Besides, Rafael had gotten a devil tatted on his back right after he graduated high school. If there was anything I could do with my appearance to let him know I was ready as fuck to worship all over that devil, I was gonna do it.
“They’re here,” Kay said in a little singsong tone, giving me a knowing look as she sat back on her side of the table. I had to repeat to myself just be cool, just be cool. My heart was gonna burst out of my chest, Alien-style. Our dates for the night were making their way over, smiling and jostling each other as they put out the stubs of their cigarettes. Taylor was Kay’s “official boyfriend” as of two weeks ago. He was stocky, only taller than her when she wore flats, and a little brain-dead from X, but he was nice enough. He also got her into 21+ clubs for free, and I was pretty sure that was the bigger reason she kept him around.
Rafael. Oh, god, Rafael. It was almost stupid how hot I thought he was. I remember when my dad saw a picture of him, he laughed and said it looked like the wind could blow him away and a magnet could bring him back. He was tall, skinny, with copper skin and straight black hair spiked up and swooped to the side. He had his hood up and jacket unzipped, the fabric covered in thick black and white Beetlejuice stripes. His t-shirt was emblazoned with big slasher-esque lettering that said “1, 2, Coming for You!” with a screen-print of Freddy Krueger.
If he wasn’t literally coming for me before the night was over I was going to renounce my School Skank title for life.
“Hey, babe,” Taylor immediately wrapped his arms around Kay, giving her skinny ass a squeeze as she giggled and gave him a sticky, lip-gloss kiss.
“What’s up, Dahlia?” Rafael opened his arms as he approached me, an invitation to a hug that made heat shoot straight to my face. He smelled like cigarettes and some deep, musky cologne. I swear my eyes could’ve rolled back just from sniffing him.
“Good to finally see you, Rafa,” I said teasingly, trying not to be distracted by the silver snake bites in his pouting lower lip. “You just fucking disappeared on all of us after high school, way to leave me hanging.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, giving that lop-sided smile that shot straight to my heart. “Yeah the band kinda got a little tour thing going, hit five states in ten days.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Turns out its not that fun being stuck on an old bus with four guys and only one toilet.”
“So that’s why you guys broke up,” I said. “No more Brass Knuckle Blood Drops?”
“Nope, nada, unfortunately the BKBD is officially retired.” Kay and Taylor were motioning to us impatiently, eager to get in line with the already large crowds that were forming as the countdown to the maze gates opening began. Rafa and I fell into walking behind them side by side. I made sure to “accidentally” bump into him every now and then.
He told me more stories from the tour as we waited in line, let me listen to a new acoustic he’d recorded on his phone, and laughed at my stories of all the drama that had gone down my senior year after he left. We were finally nearing the front of the line, and I could hear terrified screams followed by laughter coming from within. The maze we’d chosen first was Slaughterhouse, something inspired by the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I gasped when one of the costumed guys patrolling the front of the lines decided to come up behind me and growl in my ear.
“Woah Dahl, I thought you gonna punch him,” Rafa laughed, as I glared after the worker that had scared me. “I saw those fists go up.”
“Guess its just my first reaction to getting scared,” I said, a little embarrassed that he’d seen me jump so easily. “I just start hitting.”
“Maybe I should keep my arm around you then,” he said, and slipped himself around my shoulders. “Just to restrain those arms of your’s a little.”
Oh. God. Yes.
They’d definitely improved the Slaughterhouse that year, with a lot more fake blood and even more hanging corpses on meat hooks. I kept hearing Kay shrieking ahead of us, so I was prepared for most of the scares when they happened. I still made sure to jump though, just so I could squish myself a little closer to Rafael’s side and feel his arm squeeze around me.
We were about mid-way through the maze, in the part that was supposed to be a cornfield, when Rafa suddenly stopped me. Kay and Taylor were now far enough ahead to be completely out of our sight, and the group behind hadn’t caught up yet. I could still hear Kay’s screams though. They made me giggle every time.
“I know what you’re doing,” Rafa said softly, leaning down so his face was just a few inches away. My heart immediately began to pound. What I was doing…what, trying to get in his pants? Was this a come on? Was he really that bold-
“You keep hearing Kay give away every time there’s a jumpscare,” he said, shaking his head in disapproval and making me feel immediately stupid for anticipating an impromptu make-out session. “You’re not really scared.”
I laughed, a little nervously. “Well yeah, it’s kinda hard not to hear her. I don’t know how they manage to have sex without the cops being called for how loud that bitch screams.”
Rafa grinned, pulling his phone and a pair of tangled earbuds out of his pocket. I was at a loss, watching as he untangled them. “You think Kay is loud during sex?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, mesmerized by the way his long fingers worked. “I slept on the floor of her bedroom for her birthday party. I heard everything.”
He was scrolling through something on his iPhone. “Yeah? Did you touch yourself to it?”
“Here, put these on,” he held out the earbuds, now plugged into his phone. “It’ll make the experience a little more…authentic.”
There was something really goddamn sexy about a boy who wanted to scare me. I smiled as I pressed the buds into my ears. Sound was immediately muffled, the distant laughter and screams gone entirely. Rafa pressed a button on his phone, and music began to play: it was soft, creepy, and a little familiar. I had the vague feeling it was the theme song from some horror movie, but I was a little too distracted to really think on it. Rafael leaned close, pulled out one earbud, and whispered, “Be brave now.”
He spun me around, and gave me a gentle push to walk ahead of him. Now, with the music playing in my ears and without him by my side, the creep-factor was significantly heightened. My heart rate quickened as the music swelled, and I couldn’t help grinning. I loved a good scare.
“This is so much better!” I said, probably too loud because I couldn’t hear my own voice. I turned around, and the moment I did my smile fell.
Rafa was gone. I was alone.
My first instinct was to take out the earbuds and call him. I hesitated with my hands halfway to my ears. He’d said to be brave…I knew he had to be close by. He was just trying to scare me. Slowly, I turned back around. Nothing. No one in sight. It was honestly incredible what just a little music could do to the mood. The fake corn stalks on either side of me suddenly seemed more sinister, even the anamatronic flapping crow on the fence post ahead seemed a little more real. I found myself hesitating, walking with tension in every step. Where…was he?
The corn stalks opened up to one of the scenes where I was pretty sure a costumed guy with a chainsaw was supposed to pop out, but nothing happened. It was set up with a broken down shed on one side, and within were faux body parts dangling from the rafters, and a bloody human torso being impaled on a table saw. I crept a little closer, peering inside. They’d done a damn good job on the props this year…or maybe the music really did make everything seem better.
I turned to go – and face planted into a tall, dark figure. I screamed, flinging my hands up instinctively as the figure grabbed me and shoved me into the shed. They grabbed my wrists, pushed me back, forcing me toward the table covered in blood and that rusty, awful saw –
I yanked out my earbuds in the process of struggling, and immediately heard the sounds of Rafa’s boyish laughter. He was laughing almost uncontrollably, shaking from the force of it as he held me there over the table.
“Rafael, you asshole!” I tried to kick at him, struggling uselessly as he held me down. “What the fuck? You fucking scared me you fucking-”
“I thought you liked being scared?” he said teasingly, releasing my wrists to let me up from the table. “What happened to Black Dahlia the Macabre Queen?”
I scoffed, trying to hold onto my anger but beginning to fail. He was referencing my MySpace name, the one I’d clung to up until Junior year when I figured I could probably drop the “Macabre Queen” handle. I did like being scared – a little too much. As my heart beat slowed and the adrenaline started to subside, something else took its place.
My fucking panties were wet, and it miraculously wasn’t from pissing them out of fear.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I shoved his phone and earbuds back against him, trying to keep up the angry charade a little longer since he was still laughing. But he caught my arms again before I could get away, pulling me up close against him and grinning his lop-sided grin.
“You like it,” he said softly. “Don’t you.”
It didn’t sound like a question. I frowned, and glared at him, then said softly. “Yeah. Maybe. So what?”
“So I think you look sexy when you’re scared,” he said. “That’s so what.”
He…thought I looked…sexy? Good-bye, panties, I was a fucking vajayjay waterfall. “Oh. You…you do? You think I…”
“Your eyes get all big and you have a really pretty scream,” he said. “Also…did I see a tongue piercing?”
“Maybe,” I thought my heart might explode from the words bubbling up out of my throat but I said it anyway. “Wanna find out?”
He pressed me back against the bloody saw table, his mouth on mine, lips parting, tongue exploring, finding the piercing he knew was there and swirling over it. His taste was cigarettes and cool mint gum and that slight metallic flavor from his lip rings and fuck…
He pulled away, but not far. I was halfway up on the table, lying on fake blood and a squishy torso with intestines splooshing out of it. I’d never been so goddamn turned on.
“We should catch up with Taylor and Kay,” he said softly. “Besides, I don’t think we’ll be alone much longer.”
He was right. I could hear the voices of the next group approaching. But I gave him one last rough kiss, making sure to give his lower lip a bite before I let him go. He put his arm around me again as we left the shed, hurrying through the rest of the maze.
“We’re not done with that yet,” I said softly, as the end of the maze came into sight.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck no we’re not.”
Kay was pissed at me for “abandoning her,” as Taylor apparently wasn’t very good at comforting her through the horrors. He made up for it though: he’d brought a flask of Captain Morgan in his jacket. We bought bottles of Coke, poured out half and filled the rest with rum before the next maze. This time Kay clung to me the whole time. I don’t think she even realized how much of a cockblock she was being.
It was nearing midnight, and after the second maze we settled down in the grass near the carnival games to finish our drinks. I was feeling the buzz already, then Rafa pulled out a couple 99 Bananas shots and that really got me going. I was at that perfect first stage of drunk: still totally lucid and in control, but my inhibitions were lowered and my sex drive was up.
“Did you know there’s a fourth maze back there?” Taylor said, trying to draw Kay’s attention away from her phone. She just nodded distractedly, but it got my attention.
“A fourth?” I said.
“Yep. One of Rafa’s buddies helped set it up, didn’t he?”
Rafael nodded, sucking on a Vero Mango lollipop he’d won from a beanbag toss game. I could already imagine the taste of the chili in his mouth.
“Yeah, it’s supposed to fun house themed,” he said. “They only open it on Halloween though.” He popped the lolly from his mouth, tongue and lips stained red. “Not that that has to stop us though.”
I leaned forward eagerly. “Meaning…?”
“Meaning I know how to get in because my buddy took me back there while they were still setting up. There’s a few side doors.” He shrugged. “They’re usually unlocked.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Kay said, tapping away at her phone’s keys. “Fun house equals clowns, and clowns equal a big fat hell no from me.”
“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t,” Taylor said quickly, still staring eagerly at Kay for her attention. I honestly felt bad for the guy.
“Well? Are you up for it?” Rafa reached out his hand, offering the lolly. I put my mouth over it and licked it, long and deep, without taking it from his fingers, and watched his eyes widen.
We had to leave the football field to find the back way that Rafa was looking for. The back entrance through the bleachers had been blocked off with a chainlink fence, but we scaled it easily. There, hidden behind the walls of the other three mazes, was the fourth and final Maze: it was covered in stripes and shapes with splattered red paint and comic-style women screaming in horror, obviously brightly colored even in the dark. The locked entrance was a massive, cartoon-y clown’s mouth, but this clown had horns and bright red eyes. Those eyes seemed to follow us as we rounded the front of the maze.
“Awesome,” I gasped. “Its just like one of those creepy old fun-houses!”
“It’s even better inside,” Rafa said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and planting a kiss on my head. “Are you ready to be fucking terrified?”
“I don’t think it’s gonna be that scary,” I giggled, as he bit at my ear. “None of the Scarers are even in there.”
“Well I know where to turn all the neon lights on,” he said, beginning to lead me around the side of the maze. “And of course there’s gonna a be a Scarer in there: me.”
“You’re not so scary,” I shoved him lightly. “You got me good once, but now I’m ready for you.” More ready than you know.
“Oh yeah?” Suddenly he grabbed me again, backing me into the wall where the shadows were darkest. Looming over me, his lip rings almost looked like fangs in the dark. “You’re alone with me now, Dahl. I could do anything I wanted to you.”
I leaned up for his kiss, but he didn’t give it to me yet. He hovered just out of my reach, leaving me longing. “But you wouldn’t,” I said. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Not in ways you didn’t like,” he said darkly. “Safety word is sausage.”
My heart skipped a beat. “S-safety…safety word?”
“I wanna play a little game, Dahlia,” he said. “You run, I chase.”
“Like hide and seek?” I whispered, even though I knew it wasn’t going to be like that at all.
“Once we go in, I’ll turn on the strobe lights and the neon,” he said. “You won’t be able to see me. You’ll wear the earbuds again – you won’t be able to hear me. Your senses will be totally fucked. Get to the end of the maze before I catch you…or else.”
“Or else…what?” My adrenaline was pumping, my heart kicking through my ribs, and I was absolutely, 100% down for this.
His finger ran over my lower lip thoughtfully. “What do you think is a good consequence?”
I knew exactly what I wanted my punishment to be. I didn’t even hesitate. “If you catch me, you can fuck me.”
He chuckled darkly. “Aw, but then you might let me catch you.” Suddenly his hand slipped down my jeans, beneath my lacy thong. It cupped hotly over my pussy, and one smooth finger caressed along me. I was dripping, and the moment he felt it, his lop-sided grin widened. “Something tells me you want me to catch you.”
“I’ll pretend I don’t,” I said. “I’ll pretend I’m scared.”
He drew his hand out of my pants. Slowly, he put the finger he’d stroked me with into his mouth. My whole body went hotter than Satan’s ass. Just imagining what that tongue could do…
“Alright. Let’s play a game.”
The lights were on. Everywhere I looked bright hot-white strobes flashed, blinding me. Everything was silhouettes, light reflecting off of mirrors that spun and curved. Rafa stood in front of me, and slipped the buds into my ears. The music started played. Bring Me the Horizon, It Was Written In Blood. Fitting.
He kissed me, long and deep. As he pulled away, he mouthed words that may have been “See you soon.” Then he was gone, into the maze. He said there were multiple ways through, different exits I could find. I was supposed to give him a head start to hide, and wait for the end of the song.
Then our game would start.
It was the longest four minutes of my life, waiting for the song to end, as the music swelled and my heart pounded. Of course I wanted him to catch me – I couldn’t have dreamed of a better scenario. But at the same time, the challenge of escape was intoxicating. Something told me that no matter how hard I tried, he’d still find a way to catch me. I was at an obvious disadvantage, stuck in a state of perpetual sensory deprivation.
I was still going to at least try.
The song came to an end, and the next one, something creeping and instrumental, began.
Ahead me, a hallway twisted and turned. The walls were rippled, and the hall zig-zagged sharply back and forth. Lights flashed overhead, reflecting off the glass of framed mirrors dangling from the red-papered walls. Cartoon portraits of carnival freaks stared down at me with shifty eyes – the Bearded Lady, the Ring Master, the Strong Man, and of course, dozens of clowns. The floor below was black and white striped carpet, laid at an angle to give the optical allusion that the floor was constantly falling away from me. I was completely disoriented: between the flashing lights, the strange shapes, and my inability to even hear my own footsteps, I began to feel dizzy.
The hallway forked in three directions. I could keep going straight, or to the left…or take the even narrower, entirely striped hall to my write. Everything – floor, ceiling, and walls – was made of black and white stripes lit with red neon lights. I couldn’t see the end to any of them.
I chose the striped hall.
Everything seemed to melt together. The alcohol in my system was just enough to further throw my senses out of wack. There was a sharp turn in the hall every few feet that I could not see around, and my heart rate increased every time I came up to one. Would Rafael be right on the other side? Was he lying in wait somewhere, just biding his time until I passed by, or was he actively stalking me?
Just the thought of being stalked through this creepy place gave me a little thrill.
I came around another corner, and the end of the hall was in sight. Or at least, I assumed it was the end. A curtain of dangling, brightly colored beads blocked my way. I hurried toward it, my hand running along the wall to keep myself steady. I was almost out, when my fingertips felt a vibration the rest of me did not.
I paused. Something had hit the wall.
I looked back down the hall. The twists and turns made it impossible to see far. The black and white stripes and the red lights made everything blend together. But…
There were stripes up there that didn’t belong, narrower than the others. A striped jacket. Rafael.
I started sprinting. I burst through the beaded curtain and found myself on a metal pathway suspended in a rotating cylinder. Lights flashed around me, reflecting off of metal shapes around the cylinder, so everything swirled and I felt like I’d been dumped in a kaleidoscope. I had to grab the hand railings at the sides to keep myself from swaying. I was forced to make my way painfully slowly along that path, but I could see the end. I glanced back-
Rafael was standing at the far end of the pathway. His hoodie was up, and I couldn’t be sure in the flashing light, but it looked as if he’d put a black mask over his nose and mouth. From a distance, it truly didn’t even look like him. He looked like every bad guy in cliche horror films, weirdly calm as they chased the heroine, self-assured that they’d catch her in the end.
Of course he’d catch me. But I’d give him a fight first.
I stumbled to the end of the path, still fighting the urge to rip the buds from my ears. The chaos of the music combined with the flashing and swirling was overwhelming. I could hardly think. I sprinted full force into the next room, through yet another beaded curtain –
And screamed as I almost ran face first into someone coming the opposite direction.
I stumbled back, gasping. It wasn’t someone else, it was me: my reflection in a mirror. The walls, the ceiling – everything was mirrors. Another maze…and I didn’t think I’d be reaching the end of this one.
Everywhere I turned was infinity. I had to slow down so I wouldn’t slam into mirrors that I thought were doorways. My senses were completely turned around. Before long I wasn’t even certain what direction I’d come from.
Suddenly, Rafa was there.
I wasn’t even sure if he was in front of me or behind. He was everywhere at once, his reflection following me even when I began to run, nervous laughter and frantic gasps choking together in my throat. I knew it was all a game – my body didn’t. Adrenaline pumped through me, a high better than any drug I’d tried. I twisted and turned through the maze, certain I was going in circles. Rafael was there, always behind me, always ahead, until, suddenly, he vanished.
I stopped running. I pulled out the earbuds and leaned back against the mirror, panting. My face was flushed, my eyeliner smudged, my glittery eyeshadow smeared at the edges. I knew I’d broken the rules of the game. The sudden silence was almost more terrifying than the music I could still faintly hear from the earbuds.
In my reflection, behind me, he appeared. He was like the hot Michael Meyers of my dreams – nightmares? All I could see above his black mask was his dark brown eyes, and instead of a serial killer’s knife he was twirling a pair of metal handcuffs around his finger.
I didn’t know where he’d gotten them. I didn’t care.
“You broke the rules,” he said darkly.
I gulped. The earbuds dangled guiltily from my hand.
“You’re going to be punished for that, little girl.”
He lunged at me, grabbing me tightly and restraining my arms. I struggled, and when he laughed, I fought harder. I’d told him I’d pretend to be scared – oh, I’d show him scared. I clawed at him and he swatted my hands away, then when he wrapped his arm around my neck I bit down. He jerked at the bite, and for a moment I almost slipped away again, but he caught both my arms roughly and jerked me back, bringing me down to the ground. I heard the telltale click-click-click, and felt cold metal secure around my wrists. I squirmed and squealed beneath him as he straddled me, pulling up his hoodie sleeve to examine the damage on his tattooed arm.
“God damn, girl,” he said, seeing the deep indents my teeth had left. “You wanna play rough like that?” My answer was to struggle harder. I could hear his chuckles behind the mask as he pinned me more tightly between his thighs, then reached up and wrapped a hand around my throat. “You’re mine now, girl. I caught you. I get to do whatever I want with you.”
Shit, just the sound of his voice, thick with threats and dark with lust, made me quiver. My strangled breath became whimpers as he pulled down his mask, and came within an inch of my face to snap his teeth before consuming me in his kiss. His tongue played around my mouth, sucking gently on my lower lip before he let me go and said, “Tonight you’re my doll. And before I’m done with you, you’ll be just as limp and useless as one of those ball-jointed little creeps.”
“I’m already a little creep,” I said softly, breathlessly. The image of him straddling me, then grasping my face in his hands and pinching my cheeks, was reflected around me a thousand times.
“Damn right,” he growled. “That’s part of why I’m going to enjoy this so much: pushing you to your limits, finding that place where you really, truly fall into that slutty little headspace I know you’re just dying to go into.” I nodded as best I could with his hand squeezing my face. Eager, hot, horny, and so ready. He shook his head at me.
“Open up, slut.”
I opened immediately as his command, and heard the sound of him spit before I felt it hit my tongue. I swallowed eagerly. His taste was intoxicating. He shook my face before he released it, only to whip back his hand and slap my cheek with his open palm. He’d pulled back his strength. He was testing my endurance, seeing what would still bring out a smile and what would make me wince.
I smiled, of course.
“Little fucking freak.”
He stopped straddling me, instead working to pop apart the buttons on my jeans, yanking the tight clothing off my lower body. He left them scrunched around my knees, still partially restraining me as he traced his fingers over the lace of my black panties.
“Did you wear these because you knew I was coming tonight?” he asked slyly.
I grinned. “No. I just always wear lace thongs.”
“You’re a little fucking brat, you know that?” His hands slid down and spread my thighs, leaving me vulnerable and squirming. “I’m gonna wipe that little smile off your face, girl.”
His hand rubbed over my panties, careless and rough – brief moments of pleasure as he made contact with my clit through the fabric, and I jumped every time he did. “Don’t squeeze your legs together,” he said. “This is for breaking the rules of the game.”
Before I could comprehend what he was asking, his hand slapped down to spank my pussy. Of course my first reaction was to squeeze my legs shut! But he had positioned himself to keep them spread, so I was helpless through the next four swats of his hand. The pain stung on the surface but spread deep too – a mingling of pain and pleasure that caught me midway between giggling and yelping. By the last of the five swats, I wasn’t giggling so much anymore.
“Rough enough for you?” he said, his crooked smile now looking diabolical enough to remind me of the Joker.
“Yeah,” I nodded quickly, whimpering as I did.
He smacked me again, making me jump and squeeze my legs against him. “You say, “yes, daddy,” like a good girl,” he chastised. “If you’re going to be a brat, at least address me properly.”
I bit my lip. There was something so demeaning in calling him that…but demeaning in a way that made my stomach squish up and my whole body go hot. “Yes, daddy,” I said softly.
He leaned down, and I felt the hardness of his cock through his jeans as he kissed my forehead. “Good girl. Now, we’re gonna tame that brattiness out of you.”
He pulled the jeans off my legs completely, tossing them aside. Then he slid down my panties, and paused to admire the fact that they were already soaked. I’d been with guys before, but now that Rafa could actually see me, like really see me almost naked and totally exposed, I felt suddenly shy. I didn’t know what to do with myself. It didn’t help that with my hands cuffed behind my back, there was nothing I could do as he maneuvered me, spreading my legs wide and examining me with clinical intensity.
“So are you wet from me spanking you,” he mused. “Or wet from being chased down and captured?”
I couldn’t even manage to answer that out loud. Both of them, all of it, it was all fucking hot and my perverted brain loved it. His fingers gently spread my lower lips, slick with wetness. With his other hand he rubbed a single finger, lightly, teasingly, tortuously on my clit. I was immediately squirming.
“Oooh, so sensitive,” he said. “You’re gonna be fun.”
I began to whimper before his mouth even touched me. He nipped first at my thighs, his breath teasing the sensitive places that made me shake from head to toe. Every time I thought he was about to go down on me he pulled back, biting and kissing everywhere but the place I needed it most. He could hear the frustration in my whimpers – slowly becoming growls. But the more desperate I became the funnier he thought it was. His grin just kept getting bigger.
“Please,” I finally gasped. “Please just…I want your mouth on me…please.”
He gazed up at me innocently. “Please what?”
My face burned. “Please, daddy.”
His mouth closed over me, and I suddenly had a much deeper understanding of why they called it “eating out.” His tongue – the suction – the softness of his lips – the shocking touches of those metal rings. My nerves were on fire. As his tongue lapped over my clit, one of his fingers teased around my entrance before pressing within. He stroked me in rhythm with his mouth, the stimulation coming in overwhelming waves. And no matter where I looked, I had a 360 view of exactly what he was doing to me. It was like watching my own porn, and I felt an orgasm swelling within minutes. I couldn’t move my hands to grip his hair, I couldn’t do anything other than begin to shake uncontrollably. He must have felt me building because he added another finger inside me. The little stretch, that sudden stimulation – it pushed me straight over the edge.
He didn’t stop. He slowed, pressed his fingers in deeper, wrapped his arms up under me to arch my back and all my muscles tensed up. “P-please…daddy…fuck…” The first orgasm was barely over and already another was coming. I was so close and he kept drawing it out, pleasure building until my body was just shaking, melting flesh. When I came again, I couldn’t even catch my breath. I just trembled and gasped and choked on the moans struggling from my throat.
“I’m gonna make you come again, baby,” he said, his tone both sweet and condescending. “I like my brats 100% cum-stupid before I give them my cock, understand?” He gave my face a little slap. “Think you can manage that, hmm? You’re still shaking.”
“T-too…much,” I whispered, even though I knew my body was more than capable of coming again for him. “Please…I…I…can’t…”
“Aw, sure you can.” His two fingers in my pussy began to slowly pump me again, then began to scissor and stretch me. “But I’m gonna make you come even harder this time, baby. You’re so wet it’s all dripped down on your cute little asshole too. I wonder what’ll happen if you’re stuffed there too?” The finger on his opposite hand swirled around that entrance, making me immediately attempt to wriggled away. But I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Aw, you like that don’t you? I can feel your pussy get a little tighter when it feels good. This might hurt.” His finger pressed inside. I squealed, almost beyond the ability to speak. His finger retreated – then pushed inside again. Again and again he pressed just inside that tight entrance while his other hand kept stimulating my cunt.
“You’re getting even wetter,” His tone was all baby talk, making me plunge even deeper into that cum-stupid brat headspace. “I wonder if I can make you squirt from this? Or maybe you’ll just piss all over yourself like the dirty little brat you are.”
He had fingers stuffing both my holes, pumping me simultaneously. Without the stimulation of his mouth, the pleasure built more slowly, but it also built more fiercely. Every wave crashed over me with enough force to take the breath out of me.
“Do you still feel like being a little brat?” he chastised. “Hmm? Breaking the rules of daddy’s game?” His fingers pumped faster, and he added a second to my ass. Again I shrieked and tried to squirm away, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Aw, no, no, baby, you have to stay right here and take your punishment for being such a naughty little brat. This is what happens to brats isn’t it? Answer me.”
“Y-yes…d-daddy…” I dissolved into moans the moment I managed to get the words out. I couldn’t think. My brain was all fuzz and pleasure and stimulation and fuck fuck fuck…
“That’s right. Little brats get all their holes stuffed and fucked until they piss themselves don’t they?”
“Please d-don’t…don’t make…make meeee…” I was almost sobbing, but I wasn’t crying. It felt so fucking good. I didn’t know if I was capable of squirting, or if he really was about to force me to piss myself from sheer stimulation…
“You can beg all you want, little girl, but that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Let’s really get you nice and stretched.” Another finger slid inside my pussy. So fucking tight. Fuck, I was gonna cum. Everything was shaking and tensing and I wasn’t gonna be able to stop myself much longer.
“Please, please, please, daddy…daddy…I can’t…p-please…” I couldn’t hold it back. The pleasure had built up to a point where it had to release. I couldn’t stop babbling. Most of it wasn’t even words but useless whimpering and sobbing. And now his fingers were scissoring my asshole while he pumped my pussy. I couldn’t take it.
I screamed as I came. I felt myself gushing and he was laughing at me, but the humiliation just made the pleasure better. He baby-talked me as he finger-fucked me through the orgasm, saying softly, “There you go baby, that’s right, piss yourself you filthy little brat. Aw, you just can’t stop yourself can you? This is exactly what happens to brats, daddy has to teach you your lesson somehow, doesn’t he?”
I was completely spent. Soaked. Limp. Vision blurring. Moaning weakly, legs twitching. His fingers left me, and I felt completely used and empty and stretched. Just catching a glimpse of myself in the mirrors, I could see it clear as day: cum-stupid. 100% fucked beyond oblivion.
And he wasn’t even done. He was unzipping his jeans, revealing a cock that was hard and ready for me. I whimpered weakly just at the sight of it, wriggling eagerly as he pulled out a condom and slipped it on.
“Does my little brat still want this?” he said, his grin alone almost melting me.
“Yes please, daddy,” I whimpered. “Please.”
He pressed inside me, filling and stretching the hole he had just so thoroughly abused. “Look at the mirrors, baby,” he said, pressing so deep I felt the ache in my belly. “I want you to watch yourself get fucked.”
I did as he said, watching as he started off with long slow strokes, each hitting my deepest spots. The girl that had carefully applied her makeup and teased up her hair was gone. I was a mess in every possible way, and I didn’t even care. The only thing on my mind was the feeling of his cock inside me, stretching every aching muscle. I struggled weakly against my handcuffs, wishing I could cling to him and rip my nails down his back.
“Such a messy little brat,” he whispered the words against my neck as he leaned down, his kisses tender against my skin. “Such a pretty little slut.”
“Thank you, daddy.” His pace increased. He moaned softly against my neck. I didn’t want his cum to go to waste in a condom. “Please cum in my mouth. Please. Please…”
“Shit…” He chuckled, then kissed me fiercely. “If that’s what you want, baby.”
He pulled out of me, peeling off the condom. He helped me up to my knees since I couldn’t do it myself with my hands bound, then made me kneel there as he stroked himself. “Is this what you want?” he taunted, his cock just inches away from my lips. I had to taste it. I wanted it so bad.
“Yes, please,” I opened my mouth, eager, waiting. He grasped my hair, pulling my head forward as he pushed inside of me. His moan as my mouth closed around him was enough to make me quiver. I sucked eagerly, caressing around him with my tongue, letting the smooth ball on my piercing flick along his head. He shuddered, and his grip on my hair tightened. As much as I loved the sight of me on my knees with him in my throat, I loved looking up at him more, seeing the pleasure spread across his face.
“Are you gonna swallow, baby?” he said, his voice hoarse. I nodded, intoxicated with his taste, ready for more. He swelled, pressing deeper into me as he came, the sounds of his pleasure guttural and primal. I whimpered as he filled my throat, unable to swallow with him still inside me. He almost completely filled my mouth before he was done and pulled away, leaving me to swallow down every drop.
He cradled my face, kissing my cheeks, my forehead, my lips. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he said softly. “And so fucking good.”
I’d lost track of time. Kay practically screamed at me when we finally rejoined her and Taylor near the picnic benches. It was past one in the morning, and the crowds were beginning to thin.
“Where the fuck did you guys go?” she shrieked. “I thought you’d gotten arrested or something.” She paused, and took a longer look at me: cuddled under Rafa’s arm, still as cum-stupid as ever, dazed and sleepy and satisfied. Her eyes narrowed, nodding slowly.”Oh. I think I see what happened.”
I just smiled. I didn’t care if she knew. I didn’t care if I looked like the dirties slut in the world. I pressed against Rafa and loved the feeling of him squeezing me in return.
“You ready to go, man?” Taylor said, stretching. “I’ve got work in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Rafa turned me and hugged me, as Taylor and Kay said their good-bye. He kissed my forehead, and whispered softly. “I’m keeping those panties. You can have them back…but you’ll have to see me again, okay?”
I had to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. The memory of what those lips of his could do made my kiss linger. I was sure to answer just loud enough for Kay and Taylor to hear.