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#dark web
preachereater · 2 days
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i will be forever immortal once you upload that snuff video onto the dark web
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pinterest and tumblr are the girls’ version of the dark web
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 1 year
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He's more myself than I am ,whatever our souls are made up of , his and mine are the same
-Wuthering heights, Emily bronte
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izalemon · 1 year
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Yandere Red Room Host x f!Reader | SMUT/NSFW/18+⚠️
Halloween, Horror Special (PLEASE READ WARNINGS AND AUTHORS’ NOTE)
A Tortured Love Story
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Warnings: non-con, smut, bondage, torture, filming, killing, gore, reader is not killed or harmed badly, the dark/deep web, double life, blood, violence, death, recorded sex, fucking in front of a corpse, pet play, ownership kink, drugging, bdsm, rape, oral (fem!receiving) Let me know if I need to add anything
Summary: After a year married to your husband, you start to notice strange noises coming from downstairs at night from your basement, but being unable to go to the basement since it’s your husband’s work space, you decided to sneak in to investigate the noises on your own, only to find something out of your worst nightmares.
Author’s note: THIS IS ONE OF THE DARKEST ONES I’VE WRITTEN YET! Like holy shit this is bad. Seriously, none of this is right and should NOT be romanticized in real life. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Fantasy is fantasy and it should stay that way. Sexual assault is a real thing and shouldn’t be romanticized outside of things that are strictly fantasy. It’s completely normal to have rape fantasies but should NEVER happen in real life. Stay safe loves, especially on the internet ❤️
You and your husband had been married for the better part of a year now. You couldn’t ask for more in life. He was your perfect match. The wedding was glamorous and the two of you barley had any issues moving in together. The only boundary he was adamant on was that the basement to you new house was for his work and you were not allowed in, unless he said so.
You found it strange but this was the only thing he was asking for so you complied. You knew he was a photographer of some kind, but he never really talked to much about his job with you so you didn’t really know the details. All you knew was that his job paid well, to the point you didn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. But you didn’t want to be useless so you found a relatively nice office job to help with the bills.
Your husband often sent flowers to your work, which, you’ll admit, was somewhat embarrassing, but it warmed your heart knowing he was thinking about you while he did whatever it was for his work.
It was bliss at first. You were so happy you barley noticed anything out of place. But…once you started to settle yourself, you began to hear strange noises at night when your husband was gone.
One night, while you slept alone while he was out for his job, you heard rustling downstairs. It sounded like two people fighting almost and ended with a sudden thud. You ran downstairs, grabbing a knife from the kitchen on your way, assuming there was an intruder, but was only met with your husband, looking rather out of breath and annoyed, standing in the hall in front of the basement door.
“Baby? What happened? Are you okay? I heard a noise, it’s sounded like someone broke in!”
“What? No, nobody’s in here. It’s just me, don’t worry yourself.” He said.
“But…there’s blood!” You pointed out the bloodstains on his hand.
“Oh yeah, that’s probably what you heard. I tripped and cut myself. It’s nothing too bad, here,” he said, gently taking the knife from your hands. “You go back to bed baby, I’ll clean myself up and join you in a bit.” He told you, planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off.
You were confused. That shuffling you heard downstairs definitely didn’t sound like someone tripped. And you knew he wasn’t being honest with you. You didn’t see any cut on him at all. The blood wasn’t his own.
You grew more suspicious about what was going on in the basement after that. Asking him if you could go in and see what he does, only to be met with a “No” and a “I’m sorry honey, my work is very important and private to me. You understand don’t you?”
You didn’t want to pester him so you just accepted his answer.
One night, you got home from your work early only to be met with, what sounded like, screams coming from the basement. It was screams of a man and you worried your husband was hurt. You frantically began knocking on the door.
“Baby?! Honey are you in there!?!” You yelled followed by a series of knocks that progressively got louder.
The screaming was suddenly cut off and you attempted to open the door only to find it was locked shut. And just as you did it opened revealing your husband in the other side.
“What was that?!” You asked, worry coating your voice.
“Why are you here! I thought you were working till 9 tonight?!” He yelled.
“Wha-I finished up early. Why are you so angry? And what were those screams?! And since when did you install a lock on the door?!” You demanded, getting more and more heated as you questioned him.
“I don’t have time for this, it…it was just a film. Sometimes…I…I like backgrounds noise while I work! And the lock is to keep my work private. You know how I am about this!”
“Yeah! But don’t you trust me enough to know I’m not going to invade on your personal space?!” You asked him.
“If you’re not going to come in, in the first place then why do you care if I put a lock on the door or not?! And you were just trying to get it now!” He argued back.
“I thought you were hurt! I heard screaming! I-I thought something happened to you!” You we’re on the verge of tears now. Him yelling mixed with your initial panic did not make for a good combination.
“Yeah, we’ll I’m fine. Thank you. Just-don’t…don’t even attempt to come down here. Even if you hear something strange. Just know I’m fine okay?!”
“But-“
And then he slammed the door in your face and locked it again.
That was the first major fight the two of you had since moving in together. You’d never really done well with conflict and this fight just shot your stress meter through the roof.
That night, when he came to bed, he held you close. After some time cooling off and having some time to think, he regretted the way he spoke to you and he whispered apologies into your ear and the two of you made love that night.
Of course him on top. He was always on top when you two were being sexual. He had a thing about control and you didn’t mind, you were just happy to be with him.
But even though he apologized you still couldn’t get the screams out of your head. You couldn’t get everything that’s been happening out of your head. So you decided you would investigate. All you wanted was to know what he did in the basement, you promised yourself you wouldn’t bring it up to him or freak out. All you needed was closure. So when he was out running errands one day, you came home from your job early to do some investigating.
The door was still locked, you attempted to find the key, looking in the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, but couldn’t find anything. You assumed he took it with him. So instead you looked up a video on lock picking, quickly being able to open up the door after that.
It was strange walking down the steps to the basement for the first time. You felt guilty but knew you had to do this or otherwise the curiosity would eat you alive.
The basement was dark and smelled funny. You eventually were able to find a light switch and the room completely lit up, nearly blinding you, almost as if they were hospital lights. The first thing that caught your eye was the translucent sheet of plastic that separated one area of the room from the other. You couldn’t make out exactly what was behind it, but you heard groaning and saw a figure shift.
Reluctantly, you approached the sheet and looked behind it. You were met with the most horrific sight you had ever seen. A man, a man you had never seen in your life, was laying on a table, his limbs bound and his stomach completely cut open. He was on the brink of death and was just laying there suffering. A camera was recording everything. A nearby monitor showed the recording and that it was being live streamed. Money, lots of money, was being donated every second.
Your breath got caught in you throat. Your husband…this is what he was doing? Surly not. Surly you were dreaming. Having a nightmare. Any minute you would wake up next to your husband who would hold you and comfort you until you fell back to sleep. Right?
You didn’t even scream. Just ran. Ran in the opposite direction, with the full intention to grab your phone and call the cops. But you were stopped. Half way up the stairs you were met with the face of your husband. But he didn’t look like your husband anymore. He wasn’t. He was a psychopath, a murderer. And he looked pissed.
“I told you not to go down here. How many damn times did I say it?” He sounded disappointed, sad even.
“What the fuck?!?” You cried out, calling him sternly by his name. “Who that fuck was that? Who are you?!?”
“I told you my work was private, and now look what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?! Look at what you’ve done! How many people have you killed before him?! How-were…are you…I-” You we’re losing your words quickly, unable to fully grasp the situation.
He began to walk down the stairs towards you, you backing up in response, down back into hell. “Baby…you shouldn’t have gone in here. Now you can’t go back.”
“Back? What…what do you mean?”
The two of you were on level ground now, just a few feet away from the man slowly dying.
He suddenly grabbed you and pulled you against his chest. He was strong, you were unable to get out no matter how hard you fought. “This is what happens when you break my rules. And there are going to be a lot more from here on out.” He whispered in your ear, before poking your neck with something sharp. You quickly began to go limp in his arms, and finally fell unconscious, but never hitting the floor.
You prayed you weren’t next.
~~~
When you woke the first thing you noticed was how heavy you felt. It took all of your strength just to wiggle your fingers, and about half an hour before you managed to get up.
You were still in the basement, directly across the room from the stairs on a mattress, your mattress. Your ankle was in a leather strap chained to the wall. The chain wasn’t that long, it barely allowing you to go past the mattress. Your tried prying your ankle from the restraint before noticing only a key could unlock it.
Panic surged through your veins when you heard the basement door open and heard your husbands steps as he made his way down the stairs towards you. In his hands was a glass of water and some food.
He silently walked over to you and placed them in front of you. There was a long silence. You didn’t know what to say, you had never been so scared in your life.
“I’m sorry you had to find out.” He simply put. “I never intended for you to ever find out about what I do, I wanted to protect you from this side of me.” He said as he looked over to the plastic sheet hung from the wall, hiding the horrors that lay behind it.
“…what’s going on?”
“I…” he sighed. “You just HAD to be nosey didn’t you?!” He suddenly yelled, making you flinch. “Everything was fine. Perfect even! And now look what you’ve done!”
“WHAT I’VE DONE?!? I just found someone in our basement being recorded as he died!” You snapped back.
Your husband stood up abruptly and looked down at you, a look in his eye that could kill.
“Eat your food. I’ll explain everything when I cool off.” And with that he stormed out, closing and locking the door behind him.
A few hours later he came back and sat next to you on the mattress and explained everything.
He had gotten into some shady business when he was younger and his job got progressively more violent until he was being paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to torture people. He had always had a bloodlust since he was a kid, hurting and sometimes killing animals, so this was perfect for him.
The people watching his livestream were mostly others who had found their way onto the dark web and had the same urges he did, but the ones actually sending in money were his clients. People would apparently pay him hundreds to carry out a certain form of torture. Many of his regular clients were rich, business men who abused their power and were usually the ones who asked for the most vulgar forms of torture to be carried out.
You cringed as he explained all of this to you. Had you really married this man? We’re you really in love with him? How could you be anymore now that his true colors were revealed?
“And you…you were all part of the plan too…at first.”
“…what does that mean?”
“Well, I usually can’t stand people. They annoy me and honestly I’d rather see their head on a stick than converse with them. But when I met you, strangely enough, I didn’t get that feeling. So I decided to court you as a cover, to make me seem more normal and fit in. I though that that would be the best option since if I lived with someone I could actually stand being around there’d be less of a risk of me snapping and killing my spouse.” You flinched when he said that. “But…by the time of our wedding…I found myself meaning it when I said ‘I do.’ I don’t think I ever faked it when I was with you. You just…bring out something in me that’s…normal.”
You felt like you should be flattered but all you were was terrified. “So…you’re not going to kill me?”
“No. No! NO! I could never. I…baby I love you.” He expressed, cupping your face in his hands whilst you desperately tried to get away from him. “I don’t want you down here my love. Really I don’t. But I’m willing to keep you down here for the rest of our lives if it means you stay with me.”
“You’re sick.” You spat at him.
He chuckled. “Maybe. But soon you will be too.”
From that day forward you didn’t leave the basement once. He would unchain you at times so you could stretch your legs, and he had a bathroom down there for you to wash up in, but other than that, you didn’t leave the mattress.
He started doing his work in front of you now. He brought down unconscious people and would lay them out on the table—before putting on a mask to hide his identity and start streaming.
It was sick. The screams that left those peoples mouths haunted your dreams. There was so much blood. The sound of their skin being cut through and torn off repeated in your mind over and over again. He would make you watch it all. You were just out of frame of the camera, and when he would bark at you too keep looking, it naturally got the people watching curious.
He told you about how they all wanted to see his ‘special victim’ and why he was keeping them all to himself. This naturally made you fearful of what he would do next. Would he be swayed by the viewers requests and show you on camera? He said he wouldn’t kill you but he never said anything about not torturing you.
He would bring one person down a week. They’d last anywhere between a day to four. At first you would talk to them, try and come up with a plan for escape, but you were too far away to reach them and help them break free of their bonds. Eventually you stopped trying.
Sometimes they would try to talk to you, and you’d ignore them. Others would sometimes ignore you as well. But one time, one of them got pissed. They started shouting at you. Calling you horrible names for not even trying to help them or yourself.
“YOU SELFISH ENTITLED BITCH! I hope you rot in hell along with that fucker who did this to me! The only reason you’re still alive is probably because he keeps you as his personal COCK SLEEVE! Once you’re all used up you’re just gonna end up on this table like the rest of his victims!” You knew he was just scared and projecting it on to you, not to mention he was restrained at every limb so he didn’t pose any threat, but that didn’t stop you from being scared. His words hurt and you feared they may be true.
What if your husband got bored of you eventually? What if you ended up on that table too?
Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when you heard the door open and your husband marching down the stairs. When he came into your line of sight you saw just how pissed off he was.
He walked over to the man and punched him square in the nose. “You want to say that to her again.” You heard him just barely as he whispered it to the man.
You heard as he cried out in pain while blood poured out of his, now broken, nose. This just seemed to piss off your husband more. He grabbed a nearby scalpel and plunged it into the man’s hand, warranting and even louder screech of pain.
You turned your head away and covered your face with your hands while tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Even after all this time, it was still so much.
“You ever call my wife such degrading names like a bitch or a cock sleeve again…and I’ll be sure this process last far longer than a week. You’ll be here months if I hear another damn word come out of your mouth. Got it?”
Only whimpers came from the man’s lips, but it seemed to be enough for your husband for now.
Once he was finished with him he came over to you and brought you in a tight embrace. You were shaking by now. “Shhh, my pretty little thing. Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just a mere pawn in our game.”
And that’s how he saw it. A game. His game. He enjoyed doing this. He enjoyed torturing these people. Hell, despite his words, you felt he even enjoyed having you down here. Having you all to himself, him being the only form of human contact that wouldn’t die in less than a week.
And it wasn’t like he just came down here to torture people either. Oh no. Often times, when there wasn’t anyone else in the room, he would spend hours with you. He’d make you lay your head in his lap as he played with your hair and he’d rub out the knots in your back from staying in one place for so long. When you refused to eat what he gave you he’d spoon feed you.
You only tried to deny his affections once and that didn’t go well for you. The first few days you were enraged and took it out, rightfully, on him. Whenever he got close you scratch and bite at him, try to kick and hit him. Eventually he got tired of this and brought you over to his work area. You thought he was going to do to you what he did to the others. He strapped your wrists to chains coming from the ceiling so that you were hanging there like a piece of meat. He blindfolded and gagged you and left you there over night.
The next day he brought to back to your original spot and rubbed your sore shoulders and wrists. “I’m sorry baby but it had to be done. You’re going to follow my rules from here on out, and if you don’t you’ll continue to spend nights up there.” He said these things in such a sweet way despite his words being far from sweet.
From then on you stopped fighting back as much when he showed you affection, fearful that he might do something worse next time.
He wanted to hold you? You’d let it happen but you wouldn’t hold him. He kissed you? You’d accept but would not kiss him back.
This cycle lasted, for what felt like, forever. He brought a new person down, torture them for a few days until they died, get rid of the body, spend some quality time with you, and then the cycle would repeat. And he wouldn’t shy from coddling you in front of his victims. They watched as he kissed and handled you with such care, and right after having just been so brutally violent with them too. You started to think that he didn’t see them as human.
This was the ninth one now, or was it tenth? You honestly didn’t know anymore. You did what you usually did, stayed bundled up in your corner and watched as your husband went away at the poor woman.
Anytime you dare look away he’d order your eyes back up to watch as fingernails were pulled out, skin was torn right off the body, toes and fingers were being chopped off, and hair and eyelashes being pulled out in chunks. Eventually he finished, leaving the woman broken and humiliated. He walked over to you, you saw the familiar look in the woman’s eyes, she feared what he would do to you next, and you then saw her puzzled expression as he stroked your hair, whispered something in your ear, kissed you and left. It was the same confused and shocked look everyone gave.
Hours had passed, and the woman had been silent the whole time. You didn’t look at her, but you could feel her gaze on you.
“So…how long have you been here?” She suddenly asked.
You didn’t reply.
“What? Not talkative?” She let out a light chuckle. “C’mon, you could at least spare me a conversation before I die.”
You didn’t respond.
“Hey. You mute or something? C’mon speak up.”
You looked up at her now, tears pooling in your eyes.
“Has he hurt you?”
“…not as much as he’s hurt all of you.” You whispered back.
“Hmm…you must be the special one.”
“What?”
“The special one. I’m a detective honey, in situations like these there’s always one that the sicko grows attached to. Usually kept locked away like a pet or somthin’, treated like an animal.” She explained to you.
You rested your head on top of your knees that you held close to your chest. “…I’m his wife.” You said plainly.
You didn’t have to look at her to know what her face looked like.
You heard her chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
It was silent for a bit again.
“So, how long have you been down here? And how long do I have?”
You looked up at her reluctantly. “I…around two months…I’ve been down here. You…you likely have a day or two left.”
“Jesus.”
She was surprisingly calm for knowing she was going to die, painfully at that.
“Listen here sweetie, I don’t have a lot of time but you do. I imagine one day that psycho is going to snap and you’ll find yourself up here too, but you have an advantage unlike me. So listen to me very carefully.”
She told you her plan. Was this why she’d been so quiet before? Was she thinking up all of this the whole time? She pointed out things to you that you hadn’t even noticed despite being here so long.
The plan was: the next time he came in to torture her, you would cause a scene and distract him. While he was distracted she would grab the edge of the table that held his tools that was closer to her when he was working and get hold of the scalpel and pair of surgical scissors. She had noticed the scalpel and scissors were closest to her, and that after he was done with a tool he’d always put it back where it went. It would be difficult with her bound wrists but she reassured to you that she would manage.
It was amazing what she was able to pick up on even while she was being tortured.
After he left again, she would toss the tools as close to you as she could, before you slid it the rest of the way and into your grasp. Then she explained to you how to pick a lock with the the given tools incase she wouldn’t be able to explain it to you after the next round.
Then she instructed you to do the same with the lock on the basement and leave when you knew he was asleep.
“What about you?”
“I likely won’t be able to walk by tomorrow. I doubt I can already. Just worry about getting away and getting to the cops so they can get this psycho and give him the fuckin death penalty, although he deserves worse.”
And the next day…you did as she said. You distracted him, standing up and yelling at him that you’ve had enough and threatened him with whatever you could. He stormed over to you, stuffing a gag into your mouth and whispered, “Don’t fuckin speak idiot. They’ll hear you, your identity could be at risk.” As he gripped your jaw dangerously tight. But it worked. After he left she tossed the tools to you with what little strength she had left. You just barely managed to slid them over to you and begin to pick at the locks. Thankfully she explained it to you before hand since her mouth was sewed shut now.
You got out. The first time out of your restraints by your own terms. You walked over to her and nearly threw up at the sight. Her hair was shaved off, every nail was torn out, cuts, bruises, and burns scattered her body. Her eyes were just barely swollen shut and her nose…was completely gone. Just two bloody holes.
“I’m so sorry.” You whispered to her. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” And you took off. There was no clock in the room so you had no idea what time it was, you knew he usually came down in the night or evening so it had to be dark out.
You picked the lock as silently as you could. Being sure to follow the instructions she had told you earlier. You were getting nervous. What if this lock was different? What if it didn’t open? What would your husband do if he came down and found you out of your-*click*
You breathed out deeply but made sure to keep it quiet, and slowly began to open up the door. Freedom. Freedom at last. You made your way as quietly and quickly to the front door as possible. You had been right, it was night, around 11pm. You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you began to turn the knob and open the door.
“Armed system stay—you have one minute to turn off the alarm”
Your heart got caught in your throat when the blaring sirens began to go off. You never had an alarm system before, did he get it incase you escaped? Apparently so because you heard his footsteps making their way down the stairs.
You bolted.
You ran out the door as fast as you could and made your way down the street. You were too scared to slow down and get help from a neighbor. It was late and all of them would be asleep and would give him enough time to catch up to you again.
You ran and ran and ran but it wasn’t enough. You heard his footsteps behind you, getting closer by the second.
“No, no, no, no-NO! Please someone help!!!” You cried out before feeling him jump on top of you and push you to the ground, hitting your head on the hard concrete and blacking out.
~~~
When you woke the first thing you noticed was your throbbing head. You groaned, audibly, at the feeling. You vision was blurred when you opened your eyes, and you could barely hear anything. You saw the blurry figure of your husband working on something in front of him. It was only the sounds of skin being cut and torn that you realized what he was doing.
You nearly threw up.
“Oh! Looks like our special guest is finally awake.” You heard him say.
Panic surged through your body. This was it wasn’t it? This was his breaking point. You were next in that table now.
As your senses became clearer you felt the tug on your arms and wrists. You realized you were being hung from the chains attached to the ceiling like you had been before. You tried to stand so that there wasn’t as much tension on your arms but you couldn’t seem to get your legs to move.
“Aww~” His voice was closer now. You looked up at him and saw he was wearing nothing but his boxers, a translucent, plastic apron and the usual mask he wore when he did his work. You saw behind him that three cameras were recording all of this. You, your husband, and the woman who was barely alive on the table, gurgling on her own blood.
“What’s the matter darling? Tired?” He mocked you in a sickeningly sweet voice.
You tried to respond to him. To cuss him out, damn him to hell, but you couldn’t manage to get any words out.
“Not to worry everybody! I have just the thing!” He said as he broke a small bag of strange, white power underneath your nose. You jumped at the sudden chemicals. Suddenly your vision was clearer and you were standing on your feet instead of being hung by your wrists. The first thing you noticed now that your consciousness was clearer was the mask. You saw in the monitor you were wearing a small, black, masquerade mask and were only in your bra and underwear. The second thing was the woman, who looked much worse than you had left her. She was laying in the table in front of the cameras, her feet had been cut off and her hands smashed to the point you were sure that the bones inside were dust at this point. That must have been the cutting you heard when you first came to conscious.
“Now! I’m sure you’re all wondering why she’s here.” He was referring to the camera again, to the sick people watching all of this. “If you’ve been watching me for the past couple of months you’ll know that I’ve been speaking to someone from time to time on the side. And I know you were all just dying to know who it was, so let me introduce you to my pet!” He exclaimed, motioning behind him, towards you.
‘Pet?’ You wondered.
“Now,” he clapped his hands. “My special little plaything has crossed some boundaries recently. She almost managed to escape me!” He was acting as if he were a host on a reality tv show. He was never this vocal during his work. “Now, wouldn’t you all agree that such an act would warrant a punishment?” He asked them but looked at you. You saw behind the mask that, despite his cheery voice, his eyes were glaring at you with the anger of a thousand men.
You saw as comments began pouring in from the onlookers.
========
Yess!
Kill her!
Make her bleed
pull out her nails
Skin the bitch
Pull out her teeth and make her suck you offf!!!
========
You turned your head to look away. You couldn’t bare to watch all of these comments hoping for your suffering. But your head was suddenly jolted back after he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at all the disgusting things people were saying.
He whispered to you, too low for anyone other than the two of you to hear, “Look at that baby, all the things they want me to do to you. You have no idea how lucky you truly are. If I wasn’t for me…someone else would have found you…and I’m sure they wouldn’t have been so kind. There are a lot of sick bastards out there that would like to see a pretty thing like you suffer.” He was one to talk.
He turned back to the cameras sharply. “Now now…we can’t be too cruel to her. If I hurt her too badly then I will be left without my pet anymore.” He stroked the side of your cheek with the back of his hand. “Instead of damaging her pretty body…how about her mind?”
“Please…” You called out unexpectedly. You were crying. “Please…please don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. Just not this…” Your voice became weaker and weaker as you continued to beg him.
“Aww~ you poor little thing.” He knelt down slightly so that he was at your level. He gently took hold of both sides of your face and leaned his mask’s forehead against yours.
He sighed blissfully. “You should have thought of that before trying to leave me.” With that, he abruptly let you go and walked towards the woman. “However, before we can get started on her, let’s finish this one off first!”
You watched as he grabbed a knife and plunged it into her chest, dragging it down her body as blood spilled all over the table and floor. You cried out for him to stop, begged for him to let her live, but by the time your vision cleared from the tears spilling down your cheeks, you were staring at a corpse, and the psycho who killed her.
“Now~ bunny.” He dropped the knife on the floor and began to approach you. “Aw, you’re shaking like a leaf, are you cold?” He took your throat in his hand. “I know a way to warm you up.”
“Please.” Was all you could muster up. You knew you were helpless, you knew he could do what he wanted to you. All you could do was beg for him to stop, but that would never happen.
He kissed you harshly, you felt your teeth clash against his and how his tongue pressed into and against your teeth in an attempt to get into your mouth. You tried to get away but he was far too strong. When he finally did break the kiss you had to take a minute to catch your breath. By the time you did, you realized he had let go of your throat and was behind you now.
He looped his arms around your waist and rested his bead against yours, swaying the two of you side to side. “Oh my sweet darling…things are going to change from now on.” He told you.
“Please…please don’t kill me…” You begged him.
He took hold of the underside of your jaw and made you look at him. “I could never kill you honey, but you do need to be taught a lesson. After this, you will be featured in all of my videos. On display for all of them to see. I’ll make you watch every minute of the ‘show’ before I move on to you~”
“Move…move on to me?”
“Hmm, yes darling, but not to worry, it won’t be painful. If anything you might find yourself enjoying it.” And that’s when you felt it. You had been so occupied with the cameras, the dead woman, and his words that you hadn’t noticed his growing erection until now.
“No…wait…no-NO!!” You cried, struggling as much as you could against the restraints. Ever since he locked you down here he hadn’t touched you sexually at all, much to your relief, but now you didn’t know what would happen. You had been married to someone you didn’t even know this whole time, sleeping with someone who was hiding who they were. Who knew what he would be like now. He was always gentle and nice to you in bed before, but you doubted he would be now, now that his true nature was revealed.
And the cameras. So many people were watching, cheering for you to be tortured, cheering for you to be defiled in front of them by your own husband. “No! No please no! Not in front of the cameras! I’ll be good! I won’t try to run again! Please! Please, anything but this.”
“You should have thought of that before you tried to escape.” He told you in sudden, harsh tone.
Your bottoms were abruptly torn off and he thrusted into you without any prep. You yelped at the intrusion and pain that came from being stretched without any help from lubricants. He began to bounce you on his dick. In and out, it felt like you were being burned from the inside.
“Sorry about this love, but you understand I have to put on a show for them.” You assumed he was talking about him forcing his way inside you with no foreplay. It didn’t feel good. Even when the pain did eventually stop you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy what was happening. He didn’t even touch your clit.
You started crying, crying out and hoping, by some miracle somebody would hear you. Praying that somebody would help you. Hoping to whatever god there was that this was all a bad dream, that you would wake up next to the man that you married in the morning. Not this monster. Not this cold hearted psychopath that was defiling you in front of others who were all just as sick as him.
Finally, he finished inside of you, letting out a groan in your ear as he did so. He let you go and you were left hanging there again, deprived of any energy you had before to stand. Your tears had dried up a while ago, and left you dry heaving.
“And…that will be all for this week.” He said as he walked over to the monitors to end the stream.
The room was silent. The only thing that could be heard was the squeaking of the chains that held you up as you lightly swayed back and forth.
“It didn’t have to be this way.” He said. “I was planning on slowly making you participate. But you just had to go and run away.” He was in front of you again, taking off both of your masks now that you were alone and reaching up to undo your restraints.
You collapsed, the only thing preventing you from falling to the floor being your husband, who caught you and began carrying you over to the mattress again.
You didn’t fight. How could you? There was no hope anymore. You had tried to escape, it failed, and now he would never let you leave his sight.
He laid you down in the mattress and chained your ankle to the chain attached to the wall as he always did. You prayed he would just leave and let you sleep. Let you forget what he did to you.
But your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something wet in between your thighs. You jolted up and tried to get away, but two hands took hold of your thighs and brought you closer, making you yelp.
You looked down to find your husbands face buried between your legs, lapping and your abused heat.
“No…no please.” You sighed, having lost your voice from earlier.
“Lay back and relax baby. Your punishment’s over, let me fix it.” He said to you as he peppered kissed on your thighs and lower lips.
You felt him lick gingerly at your clit, gently rubbing your thighs and whispering sweet nothings to you as he did so. It was so different to how he was beforehand.
“I’m sorry I had to do that to you. But now you know. And now we can indulge in one another properly.” He whispered in between licks.
You felt two fingers penetrate you gently. You let it happen. How could you not? You were far too terrified of him to do anything other than just lay there and take it. But you did so much more than take it. Despite everything that’s happened he made sure you enjoyed it.
He ate you out for, what felt like, hours. Being so nice as to prep you, make sure you were ready for him. Having his fingers pump in and out of your hole while he sucked on your clit eagerly, before switching to pumping you with his tongue while he fingers worked your clit.
You unconsciously tightened you thighs around his head as he continued. Doing everything in you power to stop yourself from letting out a little “please~” as you had done in the past.
He made you cum twice around his lips. “You did so well baby, look how much you came.” He whispered in your ear, leaning overtop of you now while his fingers danced over your cunt.
He flipped you over gently, into the two of yours favorite position, and angled your ass in the air. “I don’t want this.” You whispered.
“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need.” He said. “You need me baby. If you didn’t have me some other maniac would have gotten to you and killed you like all of those other people. I don’t want to kill you. I want to protect you. And until you can understand that you’re going to stay down here and watch every single session until you’re just like me.” He whispered to you, pinching your ass.
A single tear fell down your cheek before he pushed into you again, much more gentle this time. Instead of harsh, mindless thrusts, he moved his hips in a certain rhythm now. He made sure to focus more on how you were feeling unlike before.
You hated how good it felt. He always did know just how to make you feel the best in bed. Always showering you with praises even if all you were doing was laying back and taking what he was giving you.
It was hard to think that during all that time he was secretly torturing and killing people in your basement. You didn’t want to believe he still loved you, if anything you’d rather be on that table getting tortured like the rest of them, cause then you wouldn’t have to admit you still loved him.
Which you did.
You couldn’t deny the fact you still loved your husband, even if it was in a different way now.
Those feelings don’t just disappear. Maybe if he admitted he never loved you in the first place they would. But because he still loves you makes you unable to deny your feelings for him.
Even now. While he’s thrusting into you even though you’d rather be left alone.
Even now. While he leans his stomach onto your back and whispered sweet little nothings into your ear.
Even now. While he wiped your tears away from your cheeks to get a better view of your face.
And when he does finish, inside of you again, he flips you back onto your back to finish you off with his mouth once more.
You wailed this time. It felt good. Too good to truly be against your will. “That’s my girl.” He whispered, giving your cunt one last kiss before moving up to you again, pulling the covers over the two of you and falling into the sweet escape of sleep, knowing full well that this was just the beginning.
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kitti-says-hi · 1 year
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artverso · 10 months
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Stephen Segovia - Darkweb
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theungratefuldread · 3 months
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Bjork
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illyanarasputinfan · 3 months
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I still think it is amusing that Illyana wanted to visit a toy store during an invasion of New York City by demons on Christmas. 😄
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Dark Web: Dusk (2022) MARVEL
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escuerzoresucitado · 11 months
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theartofthecover · 1 year
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Dark Web: Finale (One-Shot) (2023)
Art by: Adam Kubert and Frank Martin
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👏
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Thinking thoughts of a 'red room' yandere on the dark web... they have every torture device imaginable but when it comes to you in that dirty metal chair, with that bloodied sack over your head, they cant help but want to tease you, watch as you sob in fear without realizing that theyd never truly carry out a punishment as harsh as they do for most of their victims. Dragging the flat and cold metal of a knife over your stomach is enough to get them and their viewers going. Theyve had thoughts of dragging you to gorey ruin just like most of those who find themselves in that room, but they cant bring themselves to do it, for one twisted reason or another.
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 1 year
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where do you run away , when you know Greif goes around and comes around?
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maxmarvel12345 · 1 year
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あれは誰だ 誰だ 誰だ あれはデビル デビルマン デビルマン
The Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 6 #18 (January 25, 2023) [part of the Dark Web tie-in event]
Written by: Zeb Wells Penciller by: Ed McGuinness Inker by: Cliff Rathburn Colorist by: Marcio Menyz & Erick Arciniega Lettered by: VC’s Joe Caramagna Edited by: Albert Banaszak (editor) and Kaeden McGahey (assistant editor) Published by: Marvel Comics
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zed-sabre · 1 year
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how it’s going
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theungratefuldread · 2 months
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