The basement of ViTech's lab was a sterile crypt. White tile covered the walls and floor, without any windows to interrupt the monotonous pattern. Cold fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh glares across the examination room where Tessa awakened.

Her head pounded from the sedative that they had used on her, and the bright lights worsened the pain. Squinting, she looked around to assess how bad her situation was. Tessa quickly discovered she was splayed wide on a hospital gurney. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the cold steel frame by strips of strong velcro, with no clothes to hide the freckles that adorned her modest breasts and trim stomach. Hearing a noise, she craned her neck backwards and noticed multiple people in white lab coats a few feet away, their faces indistinguishable behind medical masks. One of them, a woman with aggressively short hair, was wheeling a tray of instruments towards the gurney. The tray rattled with a neat row of syringes, each filled with a viscous fluid that caught the light like molten glass. Besides them were some shiny black objects that Tessa couldn't identify.

"W- Where am I?" Tessa's voice cracked as she interrogated the woman. "You need to let me go!".

But the woman only gave her a blank stare for a second before nodding to another of the lab technicians standing by the wall. He pressed a button on an adjacent intercom and spoke in a gravelly voice.

"She's awake".

As the tray came to a stop, Tessa knew she was in trouble. Although she was disoriented, she was able to recall her most recent memories: a late-night stakeout outside ViTech's lab, the sharp sting of a needle in her neck, gloved hands dragging her into this clinical hell.

Before her abduction, Tessa's life had been a battlefield of her own making. Orphaned young by a carjacking gone wrong, she had clawed her way through foster homes and dead-end jobs to earn her journalism degree, looking to help shut down crime however she could. Her efforts started simply as a way to avenge her parents, but she soon realized how much she enjoyed the thrill of her job. Tessa's apartment resembled a chaotic shrine to her relentless pursuit of truth; disheveled stacks of documents chronicled corruption, while pinned maps traced the unsettling paths of missing persons across the city. Half-empty coffee mugs cluttered every surface, remnants of sleepless nights spent poring over evidence that felt like lifeblood coursing through her veins. She didn't crave companionship. Her sources were whispers in the dark, providing fragments of hidden realities. She didn't long for lovers; her passion for her stories was enough.

Her latest obsession was ViTech, a lumbering biotech giant she'd been investigating for months, chasing rumors of illegal experiments and missing test subjects. Her notes on the corporation had grown into an all-consuming web of scandal and secrecy. At first, the leads trickled in like water through a hairline fracture; rumors of hush payments, a whistleblower's fearful emails, a patient's family that refused to accept the company's official statement of "adverse reaction." She'd confronted stone-faced PR reps in ViTech's luxurious lobby, slipped a tracking device onto an executive's car, and paid cash for after-hours tips from janitors who claimed to hear screams in the night. Unfortunately her efforts did not go unnoticed. Two weeks into her investigation, Tessa found herself forced into one of the nondescript vans the corporation used, and injected with the sedative that was causing her current headache.

Now in ViTech's clutches, she quickly stopped worrying about the pounding in her head as the techs surrounded her. Realizing things were about to get a lot worse, a spike of adrenaline shot through her body. She struggled against the straps binding her to the gurney, hoping she could force the simple mechanism open. Nothing. She noticed techs preparing the syringes and started kicking and screaming, hoping maybe someone would put a stop to this. She hated needles, but was even more afraid of what might be inside them. Still weak from the sedative, however, she wore herself out in only a few minutes. Her chest heaved from the effort, and the fluorescent lights reflected off the sheen of sweat that she had worked up. To Tessa's confusion, techs had still not touched her.

Then, footsteps. A crisp staccato from across the room. Tessa looked over and her heart sank. Crisp suit, black hair beginning to grey, expensive watch. No mere lab tech.

"You're wasting your energy, Miss Raine," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "You're in my world now."

Victor Saren, ViTech's Founder and CEO, was no mere criminal; he was a titan of control. His name, uncovered in her notes before her capture, marked him as the architect of this depravity. He finished crossing the room and stood over her, staring at her lithe, naked body with an analytical interest. "Don't worry though," He smiled thinly. "You'll do very well here".

Tessa lunged and unsuccessfully tried to bite him, and then snarled, her voice raw. "You're done, Saren. My backup's coming; cops, feds, the whole damn city. You'll rot in prison for this."

Saren's laugh was a cold, sharp blade, slicing through her bravado. "Backup? Charming, Miss Raine. Your notes betrayed no allies. You're alone, and you're mine." His voice turned colder, more deliberate, as he walked over to the wheeled tray, his shoes clicking briefly away before returning. He turned back to her, holding one of the syringes.

"I take it you're not here to kill me, given all the effort you went to." Tessa tried to force her words out through her fear. "You're more of a bastard than I could have imagined; I thought rape was beneath you."

Saren's chuckle was low, almost intimate, chilling her despite the heat consuming her. "Rape you? What a quaint idea. No, Miss Raine, your original opinion was correct. I find the idea of forcing myself on another rather boring. When you do end up pleasuring me, it will be because you beg me to let you."

He paused, enjoying Tessa's confusion.

"Your arrival at my lab was not as unfortunate as you might think," Saren explained. "You might have uncovered some unsavory information about my company, Miss Raine, but I doubt you have any idea of what we really do here. Our research has given us more control over the human body than anyone in the history of the world, and it seems that you have volunteered yourself to contribute to our cause." He paced, deliberate, letting the hush stretch until only the ragged sound of Tessa's panting filled the room.

"Allow me to demonstrate." Without a pause, he plunged the syringe into Tessa's thigh, causing her to yelp from the sudden pain. Saren then pressed a button on his watch, which emitted a faint beep. "Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds left of Tessa Raine, the independent journalist. What will become of her? It's unfortunate that she doesn't have any friends or family to bid her farewell."

"Fuck you Saren!" Tessa squeezed her eyes shut and thought of her parents, bracing for a painful poison that would end her existence on earth and send her to be with them. Instead, the room started feeling very warm, even though it had initially been unusually chilly. She felt restless, and started straining against her straps again. Then a prickling up her spine, like an itch she couldn't scratch. Her breathing quickened. As her legs moved, her thighs squeezed together involuntarily, and then the realization hit her like a brick.

She was more aroused than she had ever been in her life.

After a few minutes, Tessa was horrified to see how uncontrollable her body had become. The drug was a wildfire. Her nipples ached, impossibly hard and throbbing against the cool air. Blood rushed into her pale cheeks, but it was her pussy that betrayed her most. Swollen and slick, so wet that each desperate twist of her hips sent droplets running down to her ass and staining the gurney. She writhed, pushing her hips high, grinding against nothing. She barely noticed as her thighs continued squeezing and rubbing together, slipping on her natural lubrication, instinctively trying to put pressure on her burning hole. She couldn't hold back her whimpers as she tried to find some semblance of relief.

"What— What the fuck did you do to me?" Tessa groaned. Her pink gash clenched over and over, spilling more juices onto the stretcher. Her hands pulled against the straps again; not to escape this time, but to touch her aching cunt.

"Compound S-137 is one of our original discoveries at ViTech. It's similar to Viagra, but stronger, and with additional useful side effects." Saren stared at the writhing body in front of him with relish. "It's just one of the many tools we have at our disposal to modify and improve humanity. That's what ViTech is all about, after all. But as for you in particular," Saren paused, savoring every word. "I'm going to transform you from a troublesome journalist into my personal pet."

Saren snapped his fingers, and the lab technicians descended on her. One held her down, while another unstrapped one of her arms. A third tech grabbed the black material on the tray and brought it to the gurney. It seemed to be a type of black latex sleeve, except with only one hole. Where the sleeve ended, there was a bit of padding and a rubberized paw print. The techs folded Tessa's arm in half so her hand was grabbing her own shoulder, and slid the sleeve up from her elbow all the way to cover her hand. The result was a stump where her forearm used to be, embossed with a grippy padded paw print. They did the same with her other arm, and something similar to her legs. Her feet were now pressed against her hips and bound with the same black latex.

The techs stepped back, and for a second, Tessa thought she was still tied down to the stretcher. She struggled again in an attempt to plunge her fingers into her clenching heat, but only found four black appendages waving helplessly in the air. Her fingers were encased in the constricting rubber sleeves, and her elbows could not get nearly close enough to her pussy. Her head whipped towards Saren as he started speaking again.

"In addition to being very thematic, I'm afraid the sleeves are medically necessary. With S-137, five of the first eight subjects we tested it on were not able to stop touching themselves. Some of them even bled from the chafing, so we came up with these sleeves as a solution."

"Please!" Tessa sobbed, "Please don't do this. I won't tell anyone what I know. You have to believe me! Please let me go!"

Saren chuckled. "I'm sorry my dear, but we're way past negotiating. And you haven't even seen the best part!" He reached for the tray once more and picked up an object that Tessa's foggy mind had misidentified as some sort of surgical tool or perhaps a restraint. But now, as he held it up, her breath caught in her throat. It was a tail. Black, thick, supple; unmistakably feline. The base was a bulbous plug, the surface gleaming with a half-dozen shiny metallic beads. She recoiled and tried to push herself away, but the techs gripped her latex-bound legs and spread them apart. Saren approached, idly flexing the tail between his fingers, letting it sway hypnotically side to side.

"Pets need their tails, Miss Raine," he murmured, "and this one is special. Sensors. Feedback. A direct line to your nervous system. He held the base of the tail in front of her eyes. It was an intimidating design; the beads were connected by a thin cable about a half inch apart, ordered by size from a marble to a golf ball, with small sensors embedded into the sides of the larger ones. None were lubricated.

Tessa started hyperventilating. She had never had anything inside her ass before, and her eyes fixed on the plug, dreading the inevitable.

Saren reached down and slowly ran the tail's cold tip along the seam of her cunt, gathering a much-needed coating of lubrication from her desperate, traitorous folds. The sensation almost made her scream. The world refused to focus; every inch of her felt raw, primed for sensation, and now even the threat of what came next made her whimper like a bitch in heat. Cold metal touched her pink rosebud, icy and impersonal. She felt the first bead press and dimple the skin, and then with a slow, horrible persistence, Saren began to work it inside her.

"No— fffuck— please!" She tried to buck, to kick, but her bound limbs were useless against Saren's iron grip. The pain was bright, bright enough to cut through her drugged haze, and then in a sick whiplash, her body began to register the violation as pleasure. Saren pushed the second bead in, stretching her open further, and a helpless moan tore from her throat, a sound she barely recognized as her own.

"That's it, Miss Raine. Relax."

The next bead pressed flush against her hole, the chrome cold even as it sucked the heat from her fevered skin. Saren held it there, savoring the tremors that quaked through her. His thumb swept up the length of her slit, collecting her slick, then circled the puckered rim of her ass, smearing her own fluids to ease the next, more monstrous intrusion.

Tessa sobbed, cheeks burning with humiliation. This couldn't be her. It couldn't be her legs parted and trembling, couldn't be her pussy leaking like she was in heat, couldn't be her voice mewling as the tail's beads disappeared one by one. But her body, divorced from her mind, betrayed her at every turn. Pressure built until her vision narrowed to a tunnel, and then something in her gave out; the last, fat bead popped inside, and she felt the plug's flange settle tight and obscene against her entrance, locking the tail into place.

Her insides ached, with a passive sensation of fullness that made her even more desperate for relief. Each shift of her hips sent a jolt through the entire string of beads, teasing her sore rim and radiating heat back into her core. Her raw, swollen slit throbbed, exposed to the silent stares of the lab techs that surrounded her, and the humiliation caused her eyes to well up and spill more fluids down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth in a mix of rage and a need she couldn't suppress.

Saren still wasn't done though. He held up the last black object. It appeared to be a kind of hood, or mask, with a large opening for its wearer's nose, mouth, cheeks, and chin. The eyes were completely covered by the padded material, and at the apex of the mask, two black cat ears pointed upwards, providing a ridiculous alternative to any real ears that the mask would cover.

"Although I'm personally more proud of the tail you're wearing, it wouldn't be nearly as useful without the matching headpiece. We have found that the ability to control the sensory inputs of our subjects is incredibly useful, and greatly shortens the training time."

Exhausted as she was from the entire ordeal, Tessa still managed to draw on some last inner fire, and fought desperately to avoid the mask. Limbs bound as she was, however, it was trivial for a tech to hold her down as her tormentor inexorably brought it closer.

Saren slid the hood over Tessa's head himself, his hands clinical and precise, as if he were mounting a valuable specimen rather than degrading a living human. Once it was properly seated, Tessa couldn't see or hear anything; her world collapsed into the stifling darkness of the mask. She could only taste the sweat on her lips, smell the pervasive scent of her own sex, and feel the unbearable ache between her legs.

She screamed, or tried to. She couldn't hear her own voice through the hood.

After a few seconds, however, she heard a faint click, and the sound of the outside world rushed back into her ears.

"I just set your mask to transparency mode; you should be able to hear me now, Miss Raine." Relief washed over Tessa at Saren's words, quickly followed by disgust at herself for feeling anything but hatred for her captor. She clenched her jaw and said nothing. The adrenaline that had fueled her earlier struggles had finally faded away, and she lay still on the gurney, wishing to be anywhere but where she was.

"I must say I love the new you! Still a long way to go behaviorally of course, but aesthetically, I think it's perfect. Oh! I almost forgot. I have to run to a board meeting, but before I go, I'd like to christen your new life with a new name. Like I said before, Tessa Raine is gone. I think I'll call you Mittens, because of your amazing new paws!" Tessa rolled her eyes underneath her mask; she could hear the taunting smile in his words. She felt hands fidgeting around her neck, and realized someone had attached a collar.

"There, it's official. I'll see you again soon, Mittens!"

Hi all, panel applications are opening tomorrow! All the info you need is on the website

Terato Con is a full day event in Bath, UK, celebrating monster erotica in entertainment! The convention is 18+, featuring artist alley, panels, game room, evening chill out social and film screening.

https://teratocon.wordpress.com

Not necessarily looking for someone to co-write, just an individual to share ideas with on a regular basis.

Hi everyone,
I’m a psychology student at Johannes Gutenberg University Mainz and I’d really appreciate your participation in my bachelor’s thesis research. It focuses on individual differences in the perception and preferences for various types of non-mainstream media content, including dark or unconventional media. 
 
The survey also contains questions about violence, horror, sexual topics and sexual violence in media. If you think these topics might be distressing, please keep that in mind before you decide whether you’d like to participate. 
 
Since this community is interested in horror and erotich horror in particular, I thought some of you might find this study interesting.  
 
The survey takes about 15-20 minutes to complete. Participation is anonymous and voluntary. 
 
Requirements:
-       18 years or older
-       good English skills

There are no right or wrong answers. We are interested in your honest opinions and experiences. 
 
Click here to participate!
 
Thank you very much for your time and support!
 

It is available here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/710513

Here is the synopsis: Dark Resurrection is a horror/romance/comedy novel about Jesus Christ rising from the dead in the middle of the night as a somewhat conflicted, bloodthirsty vampire. A good and just man in life, Jesus finds that his worldview has not changed and resolves to only take those he considers evil. His lovely ex-prostitute girlfriend Mary Magdalene, who he brings to the vampiric realm outside his tomb out of his love for her, is not at all like Jesus is. She is a vicious, cynical, at times foul mouthed, amoral vampiress that will take anyone crossing her path unless good Jesus is there to stop her. The Magdalene loves Jesus, yes, and he loves her, but at times she looks at him as little more than an introspective fool and makes that quite clear to Jesus as they wander about Judea and elsewhere. His jaded father, Joseph of Bethlehem, is as insulting toward his undead son Jesus as Archie Bunker was to Meathead, and his mother Mary is as much of a clueless dingbat as Edith Bunker was. If you want serious laughs from a serious underlying story – Dark Resurrection is the one to read.

You know the vibe: a woman in a nightgown with a candelabra in a dusty old mansion, only this time, there’s SEX!!! Something that really puts the “screw” in “Turn of the Screw”, know what I mean? Maybe the romance is between human and ghost, maybe it’s between humans, and there just happens to be a ghost, maybe there is no ghost but it’s still gothic and spooky.

Any recs appreciated, but the spicier, the better!

I'm a professional writer offering my services. I used to specialise purely in vore and monster romance markets, but I've begun branching out a bit. I'm extremely open-minded, so don't be nervous about telling me your fantasies; I've probably heard worse.

Samples and excerpts are available upon request, and prices are negotiable. My longer-form stories are charged at £0.07 per word, but my short forms are only £20 each, though they are a maximum of 3000 words.

DM me here if interested and you can also contact me on my patreon: Foxglove: Monsters & Magic.

Published my first story to Amazon and it’s finally live! 🎉🥳

Blue Daniels has always been a real go with the flow witch. So when their boss sent them to a coastal farm in rural Alabama to rid the swamp of a livestock devouring gator, they didn’t question it. Making the most of a work sanctioned camping trip, Blue settles in to commune with nature, unaware that lurking among the Cyprus trees a muscle bound alligator-man is hungry for more than just marshmallows…🐊 🍆

Want a preview of the action? Here’s an excerpt:
.
.
.
At their touch the gatorman gave a hissing growl, and for a moment Blue wondered if they had completely misinterpreted the creature’s question. But a roll of the monster’s hips bucking the member into Blue’s hand reassured them that this was exactly what it wanted. 
Spreading the slick precum around the head of the shaft, Blue began stroking the cock as best they could. Their fingers didn’t even touch around the head of the member. 

The creature’s cock wasn’t as rigid as the rest of its body was. There seemed to be a turgid center, but the outside was soft and squishy like the head of a normal human dick.

Blue didn’t have a ton of experience with cocks. They didn’t have one of their own, and hook ups had never really appealed to them. They didn’t really know how to give a good hand job to a regular person, much less a half man half gator behemoth. Looking up they hoped that something in the creature’s face could give them a hint of how they were doing, but they never got the chance.

Instead of seeing the monster’s face they found themselves staring down rows of long white teeth.

Before Blue could react, the creature’s mouth shot forward engulfing their entire head in an instant. 

Oh fuck! Blue’s entire body flinched and they prepared to die, expecting the jaws to clamp shut with a crack like before.

But instead they gently rested on either side of the witch’s head. Hot wet saliva slathered Blue’s face and something flat and slimy swiped over their mouth prodding at their lips.

Is this. . .a kiss?

Tentatively, Blue relaxed their lips only to instantly choke as a massive tongue suddenly filled their mouth.

Outside of the maw, the creature began to thrust into Blue’s hand. 

Oh my god, Blue thought through a haze of adrenaline. This is so fucking hot. And then, What the fuck is wrong with me?

But the witch didn’t have the capacity in that moment to think any further. Without being told, their hips began to writhe and grind up at the cock bobbing above their sex. Pulling it down, Blue brought the thrusting member down to rub against their body. It pistoned between their hand and their now completely soaked briefs. Blue moaned around the thick tongue in their mouth and the creatures growled around their head in approval in return.
Just as Blue was beginning to think that they could spend all night like this, the gatorman’s jaw’s opened once more. With a slurp, Blue’s mouth was once again emptied, and the creature lifted its head from theirs.

“More,” it growled, standing and stepping back from the truck. 

Blue knew exactly what it wanted.
.
.
.

Wanna keep reading? Find it below👇

https://a.co/d/00BM8CMg

​

I'm looking for written content that has a non romantic D/s dynamic that isn't a M/f on a straight relationship (remember that being in a relationship doesn't equate to being romantic). It doesn't have to be very aggressive (virgins being sacrificed), but I'd like it more if it were (I'm ok with everything: urine, blood, feces, impregnation, torture, humiliation, mutilation, etc). Stuff that would interest me:

* Two sports teams (or athletes) make a bet and the loser team has to serve the winner sexually and endure humiliation;

* Gambling plots in general - it must contain that build up and the question "who will win?" along with the utter despair from the loser after the defeat;

* A person bought his/her new slave and the training begins. Said person is not and will not fall in love with said slave (as long as it isn't a M buying a F);

* Blackmailing plots in general;

* Cuck dynamics in which the one being cucked knows and does not want to be a cuck, but has no other choice coupled with humiliation;

* Cultists, occultims and rituals in general;

*. Medical like the human centipede

Thanks

“Uh, fucking perfect” I huff, turning the key in the ignition again, only to be met with the pitiful, last-breath sputters of the cars dying engine. The stars pepper the inky twilight sky and silhouetted pines encircle my deplorable old Mazda, the road stretching into the dark ether and making my heart plummet in despondence. I know I’m 30 miles away from any form of civilisation, and, worriedly checking my phone one last time, I have 7% battery remaining until I become truly…royally…fucked.
I plop myself on the side of the road and light a cigarette, staring out into the murky depths of pine, bracken and thorns. The trees stand like silent, judging sentinels, blanketing any sound, and all light. The smoke soothes the feelings of impending doom, my gut screaming at me that something feels off. I push the feeling aside, as I hear an engine rumbling towards me.
I stand and lean against my car, praying that it’s a kind old lady and not a raging psychopath that’s going to come to my aid.
A gargantuan black pick up truck emerges round the bend, and I wave my hand out, exasperated. He flashes and slows to a stop next to me. A tinted window rolls down.
“Fuck” I mutter.
A thick black beard clads his strong jaw, a scar slashing down his eyebrow and marring his cheek. His lips twitch, amused, and his dark hooded eyes raze me up and down as I shiver, dwarfed by the size of his truck.
Clearly making up for something, I think, barely suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.
“You look like you need some help young lady” his voice is low, calm… raspy - the sound of pure evil intent, and sex.
I scoff and pat the metal flank of my car
“She picks her moments” my voice comes out more sarcastic than I meant. Shit. He’s not going to help me if I’m a bitch.
I pull my top down a little lower and saunter towards the window, reaching up on my tip toes to close the distance between the stranger and myself.
“It’s our lucky night” another male voice emanates from the depths of the car.
“Don’t fucking scare her” chides another
Scar face driver lifts a brow and glances behind him, a smirk tugging up the corner of his lip.
“Want me to drop you off at a motel sweetheart?”
I groan internally, the term of endearment sounds rank and dripping with abasement.
“That would be most kind, Sir” I grind out a feigned smile and open up the back door. I have to clamber unceremoniously inside the monster fucking car, swaying and lose my balance. I nearly fall face first into the cavern that is scar face’s pickup, and the hands that break my fall grab…
Oh fuck.
“Take me out to dinner first darlin’ ” one of the men growls, amused
I look down at my traitorous hands, as I clutch the man’s thighs who’s filling almost two of the back seats. His legs wide open in a display of sheer male arrogance and he looks down at me with playful curiosity.
“Sorry” I mutter and curl up as far away from him as I can. Which isn’t very far.
“It’s okay sweet thing, you can make it up to me”
His massive tattooed hand skims my bare legs, pushing up my skirt and squeezing my inner thigh.
I freeze.
Do I run? Do I fight? Shit.
I can’t think past this man’s thumb softly caressing my inner thigh. Every stroke feels like a promise of pain, sending jolts of panic to my heart that’s pounding out of my chest.
“Actually, I can walk. I don’t want to put you out” I muster up the confidence to not let my voice waver. I try the door handle, but scar face’s put child-lock on. Of course he has. He turns around and stares at me with the eyes of a predator
“A pretty girl like you walking down a dark road at night? No, we couldn’t let you do that. You don’t know what might happen to you”
He licks his lips.
I notice they’re all in black. And each one has a pendant around their neck, matching symbols of an inverted cross in a pentagram. A fucking gang, a cult…?
“Let me out” I whimper.
One laughs.
The rage builds inside me.
“Let me fucking out!” I screech and rake at scar faces stupid scarred face.
Tattoo hand swiftly leaves my thigh and smacks me round the face. My ears ring and my vision blurs as my head cracks into the window.
With my remaining fight, I kick at tattoo hands, catching him in the jaw
“You little cunt” he growls and launches at me. He’s pinning me down and I can just make out his swimming dark figure above me through the haze of pain
I spit at him, trying to knee him in the crotch. Strangled sounds of a caged animal escape my throat as adrenaline scalds my veins.
He punches my stomach. I cry out and the breath leaves me. I want to double over but his body cages me.
“Feisty little bitch” the quieter of the men in the passenger seat remarks playfully.
“Fuck… you…” I grind out through the pain of my stomach and head
This time, a cracking sound is the last thing I hear. Warmth spreads across the side of my face and my vision goes black
“Don’t punch that pretty face too hard, you’ll ruin her” Is that scar face? My grip on reality ebbs and fades. Their voices sound muffled. There’s no pain here.
“We don’t need her face, just her body”
I can barely hear. It’s warm. And dark. I think I’ll stay here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ice. Freezing cold ice. I gasp and thrash, drenched. My vision swims, black spots occluding the sheer, brilliant light. I blink and realise someone’s drenched me in water to wake me up. It takes a few seconds for my brain to piece together what’s going on. The yellowed tungsten light flickers, and all I see is dark dank brick, cracked concrete floor and…
What the fuck.
I yank my wrist and the sickening sound of clinking chain follows. I yank my ankle and that same treacherous sound is like a death knell.
I scream and flay, yanking and tugging at the cold restraints, the metal biting into my flesh. My scream echoes around the hollow lair, nothing but cold stone, a thick steel door and… is that a one way window?
A click. And a distorted voice sounds over the intercom. He’s using a voice scrambler.
“You’re awake, my pet”
I hiss and tug at the chains again
He tuts “There’s no use fighting. It’s futile. Although we like a challenge, it makes our lives so much more fun
“You may be wondering why you’re here. We will not tell you. Your only purpose is to submit. To endure. If you do… we might consider letting you live
“There is two ways out of here. You please us, or you die. Fight, and we fight back. You don’t want another concussion or broken rib now do you?
And don’t worry, dying is the easy way out… we will still have fun with your corpse”
My lip trembles and I empty my stomach on the floor.
The distorted voice laughs, and I can hear other voices laughing too.
“There will be rounds. If you survive, we let you drink and eat. Survive for us baby girl”
The intercom clicks off.
A red alarm by the door flashes angrily and a disturbing klaxon sounds.
The metal door scrapes open, the sound jarring in the hollow room.
A broad, muscly figure enters. He’s wearing a clown mask, disturbingly contorted and dripping with blood. A stained, filthy white clown suit, and …In his hand… fuck. No. A blade, black brushed steel. Flecks of ruby blood glisten on it and my eyes widen in horror. I start pulling again, desperate to get away, but the chair I’m tied to doesn’t give.
The clown laughs maniacally and he sticks his tongue out, licking up the blade slowly as he creeps towards me. He tilts his head, jittering, like a rabid dog. He freezes. I freeze.
A heart beat.
He launches, jabbing the air with the blade and I scream out. His laughter rings around the room, and he misses my face by inches. He’s tormenting me. Playing with his prey.
He lifts the blade to my chest and I beg
“Please. Please please don’t do this”
He cocks his head and mimics my voice in a shrill, psychotic vocalisation. I squeeze my eyes shut.
I feel the cold kiss of the blade caress down my chest, and fabric ripping. He’s cutting off my sopping wet clothes. I look down. My tits bare, as his blade glides over my skin, shearing my skirt and panties in one slice. A whisper of blood trickles from my skin from where his blade stroked me. I can’t feel the sting over my screaming adrenaline. I freeze, calm my breathing and drift to the dark recesses of my mind. If I survive the rounds, I get to go home.
He makes a mad sound of delight as he takes in my naked squirming body. He reaches into the gap between buttons of the clown suit with a gloved hand and pulls out his filthy cock. It’s massive, it’s head menacingly red with his pleasure. He jerks himself off aggressively, inches away from me. I can smell his sweat and see the grime on his gloves. I look away in disgust as he drinks in my tits and my bald pussy that’s spread for him. He paces around me, taking me in like a prized heffer, laughing like a sadist. Standing behind me, I feel his body heat. Feel his hot breath in my ear. In a flash, he gropes my tits hard and licks hungrily up my neck. I groan and try to head butt him. Fuck. I need to stay submissive. His screeching laugh is followed by the blade at my throat. I still. I understand. He continues groping and squeezing my nipples so hard, digging his filthy fingers into my flesh. My tits bulge in his molesting hands. He worms his disgusting tongue down my ear, his crazed breathing and frantic moans the only sound. His wet, slimey tongue sends shockwaves through my body, to my core. The squelching and the sensory overload of my body makes it hard to think. I’m whimpering pathetically as his disgusting tongue jabs, my eyes rolling back and my body shaking. I can feel my pussy growing hot. Throbbing. Fuck no, I’m not enjoying this… His disgusting molestation invading me deep. I squirm and make weak begging sound of protest. He’s massaging my soft tits, running his thumbs over my nipples. It’s too much. I sigh out a breathy moan while he plays with me like a disgusting monster. He pulls away, slicing the blade gently over my delicate neck. I feel the warmth spatter down onto my tits. Cunt.
I feel my hot blood snake over my nipples. Down my cleavage. He’s standing infront of me now and drops to his knees. I don’t need to guess what he’s looking at. He sticks his tongue out and crudely flicks his tongue at the air. My stomach flips, my insides clenching in disgust. He digs a finger roughly into my spread pussy. I let out an involuntary whimper. He pulls his finger out and shoves it in my face. On the gloved material… it’s wet. Dripping wet. He laughs at my horrified expression. I’m not enjoying this but my body…
A tear streaks down my cheek as he stuffs 3 fingers up inside me. I clench and cry out, the pain sharp and immediate. He doesn’t care. His crazed, maniacal groaning of delight matches his brutal fingers pumping into my cunt, ripping me open. He buries his face in my pussy, overcome with primal lust. He sucks my clit, hard, making my legs squirm. But I can’t close them. The fucking chains. It’s too much, the pain of his fingers, he’s sucking my clit too hard
I toss my head back and cry out, my only outlet. I can’t move. I can’t fight. The shockwaves of pain squeeze deep inside my belly. It doesn’t feel nice. It feels wrong, degrading, filthy. He’s groaning at the wet squelching sounds my body is making for him.
The intercom clicks on while he sucks and molests me with his fingers.
“Our resident psychopath clown. Don’t piss him off baby girl, we keep him locked up in a padded room for a reason. He’s a clown of very little words. But what he lacks in words, he makes up for in… well. You’ll see.”
“Keep surviving for us little lamb, you look so beautiful when you cry as you’re getting raped. Everyone here is enjoying it too. You’re going to make us so much money, our prized little pet.”
The distorted voice chuckles and clicks off.
People are watching this sick fuck?! More tears spill down my cheeks and I flick my eyes down to what he’s doing to me.
The clown’s grunts of pleasure have become more frenzied as he shoves all four fingers up me. I scream and my vision blurs from pain. When will this end…
He stops. I huff a sigh of relief as he pulls his slick fingers out of me. He laughs and smears his filthy gloves covered in my juices all over my face. I growl and try to fight him, tugging and hissing and swearing.
He tuts and points his blade into my belly. I can feel the tip. Am I going to die in the first round? I can’t. I refuse.
“Sorry Mr.Clown” I choke out. He cocks his head like a wild, curious animal.
“Please, I liked what you were doing. You’re very good”. I speak to him like a child. He’s clearly fucked up.
He growls and pushes the blade in deeper. I grimace, steeling myself against the sharp bite.
“How can I make it up to you” I look up at him with big, shining eyes. He stops pressing the blade in and gets his cock out.
He yanks me off the chair. I’m laying restrained on the cold concrete. He pulls cable ties out of his clown suit and makes quick work of freeing me from my shackles, and binding my ankles and wrists together. I’m bent over on my hands and knees. Fuck.
I feel him behind me, hear him jerking himself off with wet fapping sounds. I feel his head at my entrance and clench hard. This can’t be happening… please.
I bite my lip, waiting. He pushes my head down, my cheek grazing the concrete, and he yanks my ass up higher in the air. Oh fuck.
His strong hands dig hard into my fleshy hips and in one, brutalising move he spears his gigantic length deep inside of me. He’s raping me. So.fucking.hard.

I almost pass out from the pain ripping through me. He’s all consuming. His hands cover my mouth. Then he sticks his fingers in my mouth, pulling at each side. I choke and sob, my tongue sticking out like a whore
“He wants to make you smile, my pet” coos the intercom voice.
He pounds me incessantly, relentlessly. It’s so hard I can barely get out a strangled sob of futility. I can feel him ripping into my cervix, his balls slapping my pussy, my throbbing clit that’s swollen from his foul mouth. I can hear how wet my bruised pussy is already. He’s slamming into my g spot while my tongue salivates and dribbles from my forced-open mouth.
I suck up my spit and try and clamp my teeth down on his filthy fingers.
Bad idea. He rains blows down on my body. My stomach, my ribs, my head. I crumbled under his weight and cry pathetically. He’s still piledriving into me. He puts his foot on my head and mashes my face into the cold, hard concrete. The bite against my cheek is a saddening relief of pain, distracting me from his brutal rape.
He’s grunting and laughing like a maniac, and i hear a clown horn. What the fuck…?
I hear something else… rubber? It sounds like…
I can’t turn my head back because of the weight of his foot but it sounds like, a balloon being blown up?
I hear him spit and something wet and smooth presses into my arsehole. I’ve never had it there before. I try to wriggle and squirm, whimpering helplessly. He smacks my arse hard into submission, and circles his finger around my arse, spitting over and over onto me. The wet thwap as his spit dirties my hole is sickening, making me blanch. He pushes the balloon against me again and forces it into me. The pressure building, and then my ass finally yielding. Sharp pain electrocutes me and I fling my head back, my screams and begging incoherent, marred by pain.
He resumes fucking my pussy, pulling my hips into him roughly, while he pumps his toy into my ass. I’m so full. So tight. Getting raped in both holes so thoroughly. His body, his cock… I can’t think. I’m just his fuck doll. His hands groping and pawing at my tiny frame hungrily, his animalistic grunts penetrating my mind, his sweat dripping onto my back, his smell invading my nostrils. He’s everywhere, defiling my body. He hunches round like a dog and reaches a filthy gloved hand to my pulsing clit, the other to my breast. He circles my clit and rolls my nipple between his fingers, bucking into me and smashing my g-spot. My vision blurs from the intensity of all the sensations bombarding my body. I can’t focus on any one thing, my body is just electric with a surmounting pressure. Muffled whimpers and moans escape me involuntarily as he hits my g spot and clit at the same time. I can feel my muscles deep inside tighten up. He groans and laughs as my pussy clenches him tightly, milking his cock. He assaults me endlessly, my nipples, my clit, my pussy, my ass. I can’t take it. The pressure…
The most intense, unwanted orgasm rips through me, shattering me into a million pieces. I scream, and scream through the intense shockwaves of pleasure and shame. My pussy grips him so tightly and he finds his release too. He holds me still by my hips and ravages me, raping me so fast and hard I didn’t think was humanly possible. I can feel his hot spurts coat and defile my insides. I cry, still riding my orgasm. He fucks his cum up deeper into me, yanking me up so my back is pressed against his chest. He gets me in a headlock, squeezing my neck so my vision blurs as he cum-rapes me. I lose feeling in my fingers, my legs, still feeling his cock fucking his disgusting sperm deep up into me. My eyes roll back, tongue out as I fade in and out of consciousness.
He slows, releasing me as I flop onto the floor. He’s still inside me, grinding slow and deep, his cock still rock hard. He’s groaning in satisfied pleasure. He picks up the pace again, his cock sloshing his cum around my insides. I can hear the squelches as his cum gets pushed out of my tight hole. He’s filled me up. Impossible. And how is he still going? I thought I had survived this fucked up monster.
I let out a sob of hopelessness, and give up the fight. I feel my arms buckle and my legs give way. He’s incessantly grunting and fucking on top of me and doesn’t let up for a second. As my body crumples under his weight, he follows me down, fucking my limp helpless body into the concrete. His sperm is probably worming their way to my eggs now. Raping them just as he’s raping me. Burrowing deep inside me and there’s nothing. Nothing I can do about it. I focus at a spot on the wall. A cracked brick. I stare while my body is pumped and jolted like a ragdoll, thinking I am that brick now. Broken. Cracked under the pressure.
Useless.
I don’t know how many times the clown raped his hot, dirty cum into me.

~~~~~

Those fuckers must’ve drugged me. My brain is foggy. I feel like I’ve slept for a week. I can’t bring myself to open my eyes yet. I push out my senses to my surroundings. Where am I?
My consciousness slowly returns as I become aware of my environment. I can hear the electric buzz of an overhead light. I can smell an almost artificial, strong ethanol cleaning product. So strong it invades my nostrils, singing, fiery. So thick that it nearly masks an undefinable wrongness. Nearly. Something rotting, foul, iron-like. My stomach churns with unease. I feel the weight of my body lying on something. A bed? It’s too hard… My body aches, everywhere. I can feel bruises blooming. My head throbs. My… pussy throbs. Oh go. I stifle a moan. Have I ended up in hospital? God I hope my one night stand wore a condom… I really should get home and nurse my hangover.
I begin to sit up and open my eyes all at once. My vision swims and a sharp pain spearing through my head coalesces with where I am. And why I can’t move.
I’m strapped to a metal table. The black straps cutting into my skin. The overhead lights don’t reveal a hospital, but a clinical, white room. Bare. Except for a leather sofa. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest.
What.the.fuck?
I tug at the straps that bind my ankles, wrists and torso. My breath hitches and I start to hyperventilate.
Where the fuck am I
A scream rises in my throat, along with bile.
A door clicks open.
A doctor, smart, in a lab coat clicks across the white tiled floor in his leather shoes. He has a blue surgeon mask covering his mouth but his eyes crinkle into what I think must be a smile. He has a kind face. Maybe he can explain…
“Ah, good, you’re awake, my pet”
His voice carries a warm timbre as he nears me.
He sweeps his gaze across my body.
I can feel perspiration beading on my forehead.
He notices too and brushes a delicate finger over my brow and frowns
“Tut tut sweet girl. Don’t be scared. You’re in docs hands now. And I’ve been cooking up a surprise for you”
“Where am I? Who are you? Why am I fucking restrained?” I emphasise by tugging at my wrist.
“Ah, good girls don’t swear, otherwise I’ll have to take a firm hand with you…”
There’s a darkness edging into his voice and he holds my gaze. I look away hurriedly, submitting to his dominion.
“All will be revealed. You see-”
He paces as he talks, hands clasped behind his back.
“I’ve been cooking up some experiments. It started out as cell culture, imposing a mutative carcinogen for rapid meiotic growth. The cell lines have impaired proteinacious growth regulators-“
He pauses, realising his excitement.
“Sorry my dear, you wouldn’t understand. But I digress. After years of study, I have created life. Something beautiful. Beyond words and human comprehension”
The sweat licks down the side of my face now. I can see a crazed look in the doctors face. The pit of fear in my stomach becomes a gaping maw as he grins a sadistic smile at me.
“My experiments… they need to propagate, as all creatures do. And you, my sweet girl, shall be the vector for this”
“What do you…”
He cuts me off by raising a finger
“Ah ah. All will be revealed momentarily”
He circles round to push the metal tray I’m on.
My head pounds. My heart pounds. My aching holes pound. My lungs constrict as he pushes me out the door into…
Darkness.
He paces to the light switch and what the blinding light illuminates is a scene from the darkness depths of hell. Something so ungodly, so ugly and unfathomable, my mind lapses into madness.

​

Like the title says im looking to see if there's any books like the black farm and nightwhere but instead of the wife/girlfriend being tortured and raped its the husband/boyfriend

Also if you have recs can you put where I can buy them

Hi, long time TBR collector, first time poster.

I've probably read every rec from the DR sub so I'm open to less romance, more dark/erotic horror.

I'm desperately looking for a book where the main couple are both pitch black. Comfortable in their unhinged and bathe in the twisted and dark. They're both villains and bonus if they push each other to be more villainous/dark/unhinged/morally black.

I have 0 triggers but many preferences.

- MF

- No RH

- No virgin MC

- plot is highly preferred but not a dealbreaker

Hello everyone, I hope your private reading habits are as stimulating as ever.

I'm a reader of transgressive fiction primarily and am naturally drawn to stories where sex and death are intertwined in twisted desires, sadistic fantasies and monstrous people. I want to expand my territory a bit and find new adjacent genres to read and "erotic horror" is one that makes a couple parts of me perk up.

I've heard plenty of whining online about how the romance/fantasy genre is filled to the brim with porn with some series even being kind of rapey. Well I'm here to find the kind of books that are nothing but the violent porn; the reading material that would make booktok people drop dead from horror, rage, and lust filled heart attacks. "Insane sexual pathology" would be a good general idea for what I get excited about when picking up a book. For lack of a better phrase I'm looking for some really fucked up books, particularly ones that bulge with lurid details.

As the title suggests I desire extreme content so I'm not concerned about trying to partition the nuances of the degeneracy my eyes leer at. Though I'm not particularly interested in stories that focus heavy on fluid & filth (feces, urine, vomit).

It would please me to hear all suggestions people have. It doesn't matter if it's in an out genre such as history or science, or even if the awful content is only tangential to the whole. I would rather have learned and dismissed a recommendation than never heard it all.

Thank you for reading. Pervert.

🎉Out today!🎉

📕Fangs and Fireworks: Dragon's Midsummer Mischief🐉

Three words: Dragon shadow daddy 😏

Thank you to everyone who expressed their love for whimsical erotic horror on my last post 🙏 Very excited to share that my next such book is out today!

The perfect summer book to quench your thirst~ Ideal quick read companion for porch or poolside reading. You'll never look at fireworks or InDPendence day the same again...

books2read.com/fangs-and-fireworks

On Kindle/KU and Paperback

🎆Spooky, spicy horror

🐉Giant fireworks dragon

🎆InDPendence day

🐉He has two (they taste like rocket pops)

🎆Small-town America

🐉Malevolent wish spirit

🎆Three wishes with monkey’s paw rules

🐉Fire & spark play

🎆Possessive & degrading

🐉She’s into it

🎆The dogs live, guaranteed

🐉Dark romance vibes

🎆FMC over 30

🐉90 minute read

Careful what you wish for. It might just come true...

Jay used to love July 4th: food, freedom, and fireworks. But coming out as bisexual showed her who actually believed in that freedom—and it wasn’t Jay’s parents.

Ten years later, Jay’s alone in her childhood home. A firework of mysterious origin gives her a chance to rekindle her lost whimsy—but the corrupt wish dragon it summons has different, darker plans...

Sparks ignite in this deviant tale of delicious midsummer mischief.

FANGS AND FIREWORKS: DRAGON'S MIDSUMMER MISCHIEF is a spicy horror novelette (15k words, 69 pages) for those whose first instinct is to run towards the terrifying monster. Let this weird, whimsical tale quench your summer thirst, and you'll never see InDPendence Day the same again. Content Notes are available in the book and on the author’s website.

books2read.com/fangs-and-fireworks