Hypothetically

hypothetically…

A fucked up mahito drabble (is there any other kind?)

Word Count: 1300

Synopsis: after you witness him killing for the first time, mahito reassures you in a way that makes you feel much, much worse.

“If I was gonna kill you…it wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Content Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. DARK CONTENT. noncon. description of gore/dead body, blood, dacryphillia, hypothetical description of reader being murdered during sex (does not actually happen), fear kink, reader is scared out of her damn mind, biting (accompanied by more blood!), mahito implies that he would be down to fuck a corpse

When you see him kill for the first time, you break down into tears. You’re not sure what pushes you over the edge: the explosion of flesh and blood that spatters the floor of the sewer as you peer around the corner, or the gleeful smile that spreads wide across his face as he looks down at the remains of his work. When you follow his gaze, you can see chunks of skin, bone, sinew - the limbs are still intact, their tattered edges dripping with fresh blood, but the entire torso is blown to bits. You heard the screams moments ago…now, you regret following them.

It takes him a minute to notice you standing there. You know that you should take the opportunity to run back to the place where he left you, to pretend that you didn’t see, but your sheer horror pins you in place. When he does see you, he rushes to your side, and smushes your face between his hands to kiss you. His palms are wet - you don’t want to think about why. “Aww. You came to watch! How sweet.” When he notices your expression, he cocks his head. “There’s nothin’ to cry about, cutie. I’m just having fun.”

You sniff, and do your best to wipe your tears away. “Most people wouldn’t call that fun.”

“Not a person, sweetheart,” he reminds you. He hasn’t stopped smiling for a second, and his grin broadens as he stares down at your face. “You’ve got fear in your eyes…it’s lovely. And so strong that I can smell it on you, too.” He inhales deeply, and his tongue darts over his lips. “You really that scared?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” His eyes stretch unnaturally wide, glowing in the dim light. “Why?”

Your hands shake, a black haze encroaching on the corners of your vision. “I don’t know…”

“That’s a lie!” He jabs a finger between your eyes, and pouts. “I don’t like it when you lie to me. You know that.”

There’s a good reason for you to keep your thoughts to yourself. He’ll find them entertaining…and that’s never a good thing. But if he already knows that you’re not being honest, it’s safer to tell him now. Before he decides that he needs to force the truth out of you. “I’m scared because…if you did that to them…” You shudder, and choke back a sob. “How do I know you won’t do it to me?”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, and slings his arm around your waist, kissing you gently on the top of your head. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You know better than to feel completely relieved. But for the moment, you think you’re safe - until he opens his mouth again.

“If I was gonna kill you…” he muses. “It wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. You feel weak at the knees - he follows you as you sink to the ground and takes a seat against the wall, spreading his legs and dragging you between them, pressing your back against his chest. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, and rests his head on your shoulder. “You’re such a pretty, pretty thing…” he murmurs. “You deserve a very special death.” His tongue slides up your neck, breath hot and dank against your bare skin. “I like you alive, for now. But hypothetically…if I did decide to kill you…” He squeezes you, hard, forcing the air from your lungs. “Yeah. I know exactly what I’d do.”

You stiffen in his arms, every one of your senses painfully sharp. Almost as sharp as the fingernails digging into your sides.

“I’d fuck you before I did it,” he declares, his voice bristling with excitement. “I’d put you on your back so I could see your face. I’d put my hand around your neck, and at the moment you came…” He pauses. “Hmm. Would you prefer me to strangle you, or slit your throat?”

Fuck. You knew he was deranged…but this is worse than anything he’s said to you before. Magnitudes worse. An unintelligible whimper is the only response you can manage.

“If you don’t have a preference, I think I’d prefer slicing you open. I like blood.” He grabs your jaw, wrenches your face towards him, stares intently into your fear-stricken eyes. “Not too much blood, though. I’d be gentle with you. Much gentler than I was with him.”

You follow the line of his hand to the mutilated corpse lying just feet away. You can smell it, the stink of blood and guts and death worming its way into your throat, churning the bile in the depths of your stomach.

“I’d be so sweet…I’d only rip you as much as I had to.” He turns you around and pulls you close, smiling as a fresh wave of tears streams down your face. “So pretty,” he hums. “I’d want you to still be pretty when you died, so I’d be very careful.” You try to hide your face, but his hand latches onto your jaw, freezing you in place as he kisses you roughly on the lips. His other hand plunges between your legs, and clamps down on your inner thigh. “Don’t worry,” he assures you. “I’m not gonna do it now. Maybe not ever.”

Maybe. He’s so casual about it - about holding your life in his hands.

Without warning, he shoves you onto your back, wriggling on top of you and trapping you against the floor before you can push him away. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, and sinks his teeth into your neck, only pulling back once he breaks your skin - after watching your blood trickle out for a few seconds, he darts forward and laps it up, sticking out his tongue to show you the red stain before he kisses you again, leaving a rancid, metallic taste in your mouth.

He guides your hand under his body, pressing it between his legs. He’s hard. As desperately as you try to escape, he won’t let go of your wrist - he makes you touch him, grinding shamelessly against your unwilling hand.

His face hovers over yours, so close that you’re compelled to cross your eyes. “I learned something interesting the other day,” he whispers. “Can I tell it to you?”

He wants you to say yes - but you can’t bring yourself to speak. It’s all you can do to nod your head. You can feel your pulse thudding desperately in your ears, and in your palm.

“I learned,” he says, “that bodies stay nice and warm for at least ten minutes after they die. Especially on the inside.” He giggles. “I guess it takes a long time for all those squishy guts to dry out.”

You squirm instinctively, repulsed by the image that flashes through your head.

“You know what that means, right?”

“No…”

He grins terribly, and presses his lips to you ear. “It means,” he whispers, “that even if I did kill you…even after you went limp in my arms…I’d still have a little more time.”

Your mouth falls open, emitting a gasp that only makes him press harder into your hand.

“Shhh.” He presses his nose into your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against the fresh wound still leaking blood down your neck. “I told you…I’m not gonna do it today.” He raises his face as you thrash beneath him, watching your eyelids flicker, your face contorted with fear. “If I did…I wouldn’t get to hear all the pretty sounds you’re about to make.”

edging w/ your jjk men

a collection.

total word count: ~3.8k (1200-1300 each)

pairing(s): gojo x reader, geto x reader, sukuna x reader

content tags: all nsfw (obviously). Details for each ⬇️

Gojo: choking, biting, a lil bit of begging, whole lotta teasing, eating out, simultaneous orgasms

Geto: slowwww teasing, bondage, bit of slapping (thighs), eating out + fingering through panties (and then eventually without them)

Sukuna: ok so - fingering, eating out, heavy degradation, honorifics, begging, biting, choking, dacryphilia, throat-fucking, facial, orgasm denial, literally stepping on you, i think that’s everything??

been working on this for a while, hope you enjoy...

GOJO.

He’s almost always sweet to you, precisely because he knows how powerful he is. He shows it off to the rest of the world, but with you, he doesn’t have to. He wants you to feel good, wants to make you cherish every second you spend alone together, wants to make you come, sometimes multiple times in a row, until you have nothing else to give - and like everything else, it’s easy for him. He’ll wrap his arms around you when it’s all over, bury his face in your hair, tell you that he loved every second of it just as much as you did. Almost every time, that’s how it ends.

But then there are the other times, when you see that feral spark in his eyes, and realize that you’re about to be his outlet for everything that he’s been holding back. It starts with the little things - instead of caressing your face, his hand curls around your neck, and his kisses are rough, his teeth sinking without warning into your bottom lip, his eyes still open, shining far too bright. He unbuttons his shirt and undresses you in seconds, plunges his hand between your thighs, grins when he realizes how wet his onslaught has made you, cackling at the shock in your eyes. He throws you onto your back, and for a moment things are just the same as always - he’s eating you out like he’s starving, and you know that it won’t be long before you finally get the release you’ve been craving - it never does take long with him. Not unless he decides to drag it out. He’s not dragging it out today - you can already feel your body tensing, preparing for the wave of pleasure that’s about to roll over it -

He moves. Unnaturally fast. His mouth is at your neck, instead of between your legs, and you’re confused, disoriented, crying out in pain as his teeth sink into your skin. He pushes himself up on his hands, hovering over you, and that wild grin flashes across his face once again.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah? You want something?” His face is so close to yours that your eyes cross trying to look at him, and he cackles again, his tongue darting over his lips. “You gotta ask nicely if you want something. How am I supposed to know otherwise?”

You glare up at him - there’s far too much pride in his voice. He’s so pleased with himself, and you think you might hate him for it.

“What? You mad?” He bites his lip, and slithers back down between your legs, tracing a single finger up your inner thigh. “Want me to make it up to you?”

You stay silent. Inside, you’re burning, desperate for him to finish you, but you can’t tell him that. You’ll never hear the end of it.

“No?” He sighs dramatically and rolls over your leg onto his side, smirking slightly as you gasp at the sudden pressure. “Guess I’ll just leave, then.”

You stare, horrified, as he stands and does up the buttons of his shirt. He slowly makes his way towards the door, not throwing so much as a glance in your direction. Without thinking, you sit up and call out after him. “Satoru!”

“Yeah?” He turns his head over his shoulder, smiling innocently. “You wanna kiss me goodbye?”

“No.” You mumble something unintelligible, and he crosses the room in an instant, diving on top of you and pinning you to the mattress, wrapping his hand around your jaw.

“Hm? I didn’t hear you!”

You take a deep breath, your eyes still narrowed in anger, resenting the firm grip forcing you to look at him as you speak. “I said, I want you to make it up to me.” He tilts his head, waiting, and you grit your teeth. “Please.”

“There you go.” He twists his free hand through your hair, holding you in place as he kisses you, sloppily, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You can feel his hard cock pressing through the fabric of his pants, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding against it, although you’re all too aware of the effect your desperation has on him. The hand grasping your face slowly slides down to your throat. “You want me to make you cum?” He effortlessly flips you onto your stomach and falls upon you, one hand undoing his trousers while the other stays firm upon your neck. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, inches from slipping inside you. With his trousers discarded on the floor, he slips his hand under your hips. His fingers circle your clit, making you gasp and squirm beneath him. He leans in close, breathing heavily in your ear. “You wanna cum around my cock?” He’s teasing you, stroking his cock slowly over your entrance, sighing tantalizingly as he feels how wet you are, how ready you are for him. His hand tightens around your neck, urging you to speak before he squeezes the breath out of you.

It’s all too much for you to resist. “Yes,” you gasp. Your voice muffled by the sheets beneath you. You raise your voice. “Yes. I - I want you to fuck me. Wanna cum for you. Please, Sato-“

The last of the air leaves your lungs as he thrusts into you, ravenously, as if he’s been waiting for hours instead of just minutes. His fingers stroke at your clit as he nips haphazardly at your neck and ear, sighing with pleasure as he pounds at your cunt, and you suddenly realize that he’s been just as desperate as you this whole time - he’s just much better at hiding it. Good enough to make you beg for what he’s wanted all along. And you don’t care - what he’s doing to you feels far too good for you to think about it anymore. You can feel yourself practically drool onto the sheets beneath you, surges of heat sweeping across your skin as he presses into you, somehow touching every inch of you at once, from your hair to the edges of your thighs.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, urgent and intense - this time, you don’t hesitate for a moment.

“‘S so good - please keep going. Thank you…”

He’s so satisfied by your response that he practically hums in your ear, his hips driving into you with such force that you cry out in pain-and-pleasure, your hand scrabbling desperately at the sheets, a fresh thrill of heat spreading through your core. “You’re gonna cum with me,” he whispers. "Yeah?"

“Y-yes. Thank you. Yes.” Your legs twitch beneath him, and your orgasm radiates through your body, lingering as his cock spasms inside you, his grip tightening - he groans heavily, and you take his cum inside of you, basking in your own afterglow as he finishes and collapses over your body, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You stay like that for a long time, pressed up against each other, uncharacteristically silent.

“Worth it,” you murmur, half hoping that he won’t hear you. Of course, he does.

“I know.” You can practically feel that self-satisfied grin spreading over his face. “We’ll do it again.” His voice softens. “You did good for me.” He nuzzles his face against your skin. “Did I do good for you?”

You sigh, sounding nearly as dramatic as him. “Yes. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

You groan, and half-heartedly try to push him off of you. He doesn’t move an inch.

“You just say the word when you want it like that again,” he murmurs. “Until then, I’ll be sweet. I swear.”

You believe him. After all, this time has ended just like all the rest. Whispered reassurances, his arms wrapped around you, fingers stroking through your hair. You could never really be mad at him. He’s far, far too good for that.

GETO.

He knows how to take his time. There’s no reason to rush - he knows that he has you for as long as he wants you. He’s slow to undress you, running his finger up the side-seam of your shirt before pulling it over your head, tracing a hand over your stomach just above the waistline of your jeans before he even undoes the top button, running his hand up your thigh and teasing you through the stiff fabric, daring you to grind into his palm. He lays you down and kisses you slowly, but not gently - his tongue probes into your mouth, and he tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls back. As he finally takes off your jeans, you become very aware of the fact that he’s still fully clothed. His hands slide under your back, undoing your bra, but he keeps your panties on - for now. You squirm, restless, unable to hide your eager anticipation of his next move.

“Be patient.” He’s exploring you at his leisure, kissing your forehead, your lips, sucking at the side of your neck. You involuntarily writhe beneath him - you can tell that this is going to leave a mark, but you don’t care about that right now. If anything - it’s not quite enough.

“Be still.” His voice is utterly soft and controlled, starkly contrasting with the whimpers that escape from your mouth as he kisses your breast, flicking your nipple with his tongue, and slides his hand between your legs, teasing you over your panties - you’re wet already, and infuriatingly, his touch seems to lighten as he realizes this.

You reach up, desperate to touch him, to see more of him. But he catches your wrists and pins them above your head. “Still having trouble, hm?” He smiles condescendingly, shaking his head. “I thought you would’ve learned by now. You’re only going to draw this out even more.”

He kisses you hard, swallowing up the protest about to issue from your mouth, his grip tightening around your wrists. As soon as he lets go, your hands jump to his hair, and again, he catches them. His eyes narrow, his voice deathly quiet. “What did I just say?”

Sometimes, you just can’t resist making a bad decision. “That you’re gonna draw things out?” Your voice is too loud, too defiant - and far more confident than you feel. “As if I mind spending more”-

He slaps his hand over your mouth. “You don’t mind yet.” There’s an unusual smile on his face, unlike any you’ve seen from him before. It’s almost scary, the way his dark eyes seem to pierce right through yours. “But you will.”

You cringe as he reaches for the drawer of his dresser and pulls out a couple short lengths of cord. He’s tied your wrists before, and not being allowed to touch him is always agonizing. But you can handle it. You have before. And the emergence of that rope usually means that the teasing is nearing its end. After all - even he can’t hold out forever.

But to your surprise, it’s not your wrists that he takes hold of. Instead, he grabs your ankles and effortlessly folds you in half, pulls your arms up to meet your legs - you struggle, slightly, but not nearly enough to give him any trouble. In an instant, two tight loops pull your limbs together, pressing your forearms to your shins, your feet in the air, the ropes tight enough that you know they'll leave an impression when he removes them.

But that won’t be any time soon. You can barely move, can’t keep yourself upright on your own, and you know better than to speak again. He steadies you, wrapping his arms around your legs, parting them, and drags his tongue carefully down your inner thigh. Then, finally, over your cunt - but the lace of your panties is still in the way, and you grind desperately into his mouth, only becoming more desperate as he smirks up at you, his nails digging into your vulnerable skin. “So worked up already…I think it’s a good thing we kept these on. Wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed.”

You whine pathetically as he presses his face into you once more, continuing his slow tease, his hand slipping from your thigh to circle your clit, tugging back and forth at the thin fabric covering you, refusing to push it aside. There’s an awful heat growing inside of you, begging for more. It’s not enough - but at the same time, entirely too much. You’re falling apart in his hands, his tight grip the only thing holding you together.

The worst thing - you might be able to come like this. Without him ever touching you directly - it could end. He has that much control over you. If he wants it to happen, it will - the realization only drives you closer to the edge.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of your thigh, his hand still tormenting you with its slow, delicate strokes. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can see it in your face.”

You don’t doubt it - you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, flooding every inch of your skin.

“And I can feel it.” He slips a single finger under your panties, sliding over the mess beneath, drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Do you even realize how much you’re shaking?”

You hadn’t - your attention is entirely on him. “Please…take them off…wanna cum…”

He laughs softly, eyes darting to the place where your wrists meet your legs, your hands curling white-knuckled around your ankles. “How would I do that?”

“Then…pull them to the side…”

“A much more reasonable request.” He adds a second finger to the first, and curls them inside you, that strange smile spreading once again over his face as you squirm and sigh in a mixture of desire and relief. After so much denial, it’s not going to take much - you can already feel yourself clenching around him, his fingers working you up to the point of no return. “But then again…” He drops his gaze, following the line of his wrist, and - without warning - completely stops what he’s doing. “I’m not always inclined to be reasonable.”

Your mouth falls open in shock as he pulls back entirely, the gathering pleasure inside of you replaced by a stinging pain as he strikes the back of one thigh, then the other. His other hand holds your legs together, securing you by the ankles. He presses on, scattering red marks across your thighs, until he finally gets the satisfaction of hearing you cry out.

“That’s right.” He trails the back of his hand across your skin, then finally grabs the scrap of lace between your legs, yanking it up just enough for him to drag his tongue over you, luxuriating in the shuddering breath that seems to ripple out across your entire body. He’s not teasing anymore - he’s relentless, and you melt completely, only praying that he doesn’t stop again before your mind goes entirely blank.

He doesn’t stop. Not this time. Before long, you’re shaking again, only aware of his tongue, and his hands gripping your thighs, and -

You tense one final time, and then the wave comes crashing down over you - and he doesn’t stop, even as your head falls back into the mattress beneath you, a glowing sensation spreading over you from the inside out.

Only when he’s taken everything you have out of you - only then does he sit up, untie you, and flip you onto your side, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair. He doesn’t say anything - and you don’t feel the need to, either. Like with everything else - you know that there’s no need to rush.

SUKUNA.

Oh. You poor, sweet thing. You’re so fucking naive. Sukuna doesn’t give a shit about your pleasure, but he’s going to act like he does just so he can rip it all away. You’ve been so good for him today, on your knees, taking his cock down your throat over, over, and over, and when it’s finally finished - when your face is such a sloppy mess that you can’t tell whether it’s spit or tears or his come running down your neck - you’re sure that you’ve finally earned the orgasm he’s been denying you for days. And he’s being so much more generous than usual - he pins you to the ground, wraps his arms around your legs, and buries his face in your cunt, tongue finding your clit, sharp nails digging into your thighs, sending you hurtling towards the most intense climax of your life. You grab his hair and grind into his mouth, wanting more, more, more -

And at the last moment - the last possible moment - he stops. He stops, and he smiles. Ferociously. Teeth bared. His hand wraps around your throat - in a second he’s on top of you, the tip of his cock teasing you open, his face hovering menacingly over yours. “You want me to do it again.” It’s not a question, but you nod as if it is, and his fingers tighten dangerously against your neck. “You want me to make you suffer.” Again, you respond, this time with a fervent shake of your head. “Hm? Is this too much for you already?”

If you tried to speak, it would come out as a wretched gasp, so you wait in silence, your entire body tensing in anticipation of his next words.

“How unfortunate. I didn’t think you were that weak.” He presses his lips to your ear, and jabs two fingers into your mouth, laughing cruelly as you gag and writhe beneath him. “We’re not done. Not even close.”

His body glides slowly over yours, and this time, you feel a sinking feeling of dread as his tongue brushes over you. “Please…”

“That’s right.” He looks up at you for a moment before sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, and you hear yourself wail in shock and despair. “Beg me. Tell me how badly your worthless little cunt wants to cum.”

“Please…Sukuna…”

As soon as his name falls off your tongue, you know that you’ve made a mistake. He revels in it, doubling his assault on your thighs as he slides his fingers inside of you, their every twist and stroke bringing you closer to the precipice you know awaits you.

“Use my name again, and I will make sure that you spend your entire life like this. All pent up with absolutely nowhere to go.” Your cunt clenches around his fingers, and he pulls back a second time, running his knuckles over the dark marks slowly forming on your skin. “You have one more chance.”

“Master…” You feel like your mind has been ripped away from you. And it doesn’t matter - your fate will be the same no matter what you say. “I - I can’t…”

“Such a shame.” He reaches up to your face and parts your lips once again, forcing you to taste yourself on his fingers. “Little brat can’t even do the one thing she’s supposed to be good at.”

This third time, you wonder if maybe - just maybe - he’ll make you cum by accident. You’re so worked up - it won’t take much. But he’s going so slow, alternating between his hand and his tongue, not giving you nearly enough of either. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, and he seems to sense them, pulling away from your thighs for a third time, suspending his face over yours, staring intently, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

“It’s so easy to make you cry.” His cock teases over your cunt again, and you sob in desperation, closing your eyes, trying to shut out some of the stimulation that’s coming close to driving you insane. He cracks his hand sharply against your cheek, and your eyelids flutter open. “Don’t hide. Even you know better than that.” He pushes himself back onto his knees, straddling your chest, and wraps his hand around his cock, his grin widening as you instinctively part your lips.

“Please…master…”

He strokes his cock over your face, taking immense satisfaction in the desperation written across it.

“Please. Fuck me. I…I need you.”

He tilts his head for a moment, like he’s considering, his hand slowing but never stopping. Your stomach sinks as his tongue flicks over his lips, exaggerating the ferocity of his smile. “No. You’ll cum if I fuck you.“

You whine - it sounds pathetic even to your ears. “Why won’t you let me?”

His eyes narrow, and he spits in your face, his grip on himself tightening as he watches it drip down your cheek. “You exist for my pleasure.” He hurtles forward, and his nails twist through your hair and dig into your scalp. You open your mouth without a thought, and he thrusts deep into your throat - you try to bolt backwards, but his grip is firm, and your weak efforts to struggle only drive him deeper into you, the sounds escaping from your lips only spurring him on. “For all I care,” he hisses, “you could go the rest of your life without ever having that release again.“

At the last moment, he lets go of your hair, and as the back of your head scrapes the hard ground beneath you, his cum spurts across your face - before you have a moment to breathe, he’s flipped you onto your stomach. Your clothes are lying discarded somewhere nearby - he rips a strip of fabric from your shirt and ties it tightly around your wrists, securing them behind your back.

“You exist for me,” he murmurs, his voice so low that it sends a fresh shudder through your body. “Not for yourself. When you’re not serving me, your fragile little life is worth nothing at all. So…” He rises to his feet, and presses the sole of his foot into your back. “You’re going to wait here until I’m ready to use you again. I suggest you spend that time thinking about what you’ll say when I return.” He steps over you, the weight of his body pressing into your spine as his sole pushes away from your body, and he laughs again as you squeal in pain. “Such a pathetic little creature. You’re lucky that I’ve found such a good use for you. Maybe I’ll even fuck you next time, if I like the way you beg.”

He retreats into the shadows, leaving you face-down, face ruined, still squirming, thighs clenching around nothing, your entire body still burning with desire. You’ll be good for him when he returns. He says that you exist for him…. and after this, you have no choice but to believe it.

rest easy now sensei...*cries*

my favorite jjk characters in every episode - nanami - jjk 2.18

Demon’s Lair

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Chapter: 1/?

Synopsis: You don’t know how you got here, and you don’t know who he is. A demon, perhaps. One who makes no secret of how much he would enjoy killing you. If you keep him entertained, he’ll hold off… we’ll see how long that lasts.

Content Tags: noncon/dubcon (fuck-or-die), kidnapping, death threats, True Form Sukuna (with two cocks because I Like It), one part with a kinda predator/prey dynamic, face slapping, face fucking, blood, tears, forced masturbation, fingering, bondage

Note: I am aware that I am not the first person to have had this general idea. I am also aware that I always want more of it, and I would imagine that I am not alone. So if you are depraved like me - enjoy!

Your eyes flutter open. The last you remembered, you were on a deserted trail, perhaps half a mile from your home. It was far too late, you were alone, it was so dark that you could barely see the path you were walking - but you’d been okay. At least, you were going be okay. You had food in your hands, a straight path ahead of you, the promise of sleep awaiting you.

But your hands are empty now, and the trail is gone. In its place is a cavern. Dark rock walls looming over you, stones scattered across the hard ground, water dripping somewhere in the distance, and a strange red glow permeating the entire massive space. Your clothing - simple trousers and a tunic - is torn in several places, your carefully braided hair hanging loose about your face.

A hazy voice from your childhood rises to the top of your mind. “ Don’t play outside too late, or a demon will come take you away!” The phrase had been enough to send you running inside when you were a child, but it’s been years since you stopped taking it seriously. Not that you didn’t believe in demons - you just figured it wasn’t so easy to catch one’s attention. But…something unnatural has certainly happened here. There’s a darkness haunting this space, sending a shiver down your spine.

As your vision clears, you see the full picture. It’s not just stones littering the floor. Stones aren’t bleached white. Stones don’t make you shudder when you gaze upon them. And they’re not shaped like that.

The ringing in your ears begins to fade. It’s not just dripping water, either. There’s a whole river flowing, somewhere, and the cave walls themselves seem to be echoing the heartbeat pounding through your veins. Under that - an echoing set of footsteps. And they’re coming closer.

You need to move - but you don’t. You can’t. You stay on the ground, half-sitting, hot blood rushing to your face, until the footsteps come to a stop behind you.

When you finally gain the will to move, it’s too late. A sharp-nailed hand closes over the back of your neck and yanks you to your feet. You can’t see its owner, and when you attempt to turn your head, it - he? - presses its fingers to your cheek, holding you in place. When you try to speak - all that comes out is a confused whimper.

He laughs. “You’re unlucky.” His voice seems to bubble up from all around you, unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet space. “I got bored. And you got caught. It could have been anyone…” You feel another set of fingernails - too many of them - trickle over your thigh, sliding over a tear in the fabric that once covered you, digging sharply into the bare skin beneath. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed by what I dragged in.” He sighs. “Although I do wish you would say something. It’s no fun when you’re silent.” His grip tightens, nails pressing threateningly into your neck. “Speak.”

You say the only thing that comes to your mind. “Where… where am I?” Instinctively, you jerk forward, as if you’re trying to run away, but he easily yanks you backwards, pulling you into him, his body a hard wall against your back.

“Somewhere that no one leaves - without my permission, that is. And I seldom give it.”

“Who are you?” Your quick burst of motion has spurred you into action - you writhe and twist beneath his hand, pry at his fingers. He snakes his other arm around your waist, pinning you against him.

“That’s more like it.” He sounds amused. Terrifyingly casual. “It’s no fun if you don’t fight, either.”

He’s strong - as hard as you try, you can’t shift his grip an inch, and your attempts only make him laugh. You can feel panic welling up inside you, and you double your efforts, but it seems to make no difference. “Let me go.”

He clicks his tongue, leans over your shoulder. “I don’t think so. You’re far too entertaining.”

“Let me go.”

“Shh. I don’t like having to repeat myself.” He uncurls his arm from around your waist, and somehow - too fast for you to comprehend - grabs both your wrists in one hand, holding them high over your head. “You’re so weak. You’ve never had to fight for your life, have you?”

You try to wrench your arms away, tugging with all the strength you have, but it’s no use. His hold on you is unnaturally tight, his grip vise like on your wrists.

“No need to answer. I can feel the blood rushing under your skin. This is new to you…not as if it would make a difference either way.” Once again, you feel the impossible phantom sensation of more fingers brushing over your thigh. It doesn’t make sense - you hear another whimper escape your lips, and he releases your neck to muffle the sound, slapping his palm over your mouth. You try to scream, and throw your entire body forward, feet scrabbling against the rocky ground, but you go nowhere.

“I like that you’re trying. As pathetic as your attempts may be.”

You shake your head violently, and in response, he digs his nails into your cheek.

“It’s entertaining, if nothing else. And I’m not unreasonable.” All at once, he releases you and shoves you forward. You fall hard to the ground, face nearly shattering on the rocky surface. But you catch yourself - barely - absorbing the impact with your hands and knees, your entire body shaking from the shock. “I’ll give you a chance to escape.” He kneels down at your side, and strokes a gentle hand through your hair. “I’ll even give you a head start.”

You look up, catching a glimpse of his face before he presses yours into the ground. It’s a shocking sight, so much so that you assume it’s a trick of the light. The intricate set of dark markings scattered across his skin could be easily explained. Same with the strange placard covering part of the right side of his face - it must be a mask of some sort, though you can’t see how it’s fastened. But his eyes are another matter. You swear you saw a second pair staring back at you, tucked beneath the first. And his real eyes…even those were terrifying. They were too bright, too intense, narrowed by the ferocious smile painted across his face.

The air is squeezed from your lungs as he shoves you onto your stomach, scraping your cheek against the ground. He presses down hard, barely giving you the space to breathe, let alone move.

“When I release you, you’ll have ten seconds to move freely,” he declares. “I’ll even close my eyes.”

Ten seconds isn’t much time - you need a plan. But you’re dazed, disoriented, confused…even before he moves, you know you don’t have a chance.

“Not yet…” He taps his fingers sharply against your waist. “Not yet…” He grabs the back of your dress and rises to his feet, hauling you up with him. “ Now.”

You manage not to fall as he lets go, and stumble forward in the direction you’re facing.

“ Nine, eight…”

You’re sprinting as fast as you can, but the ground is uneven, and littered with things you don’t care to look at.

“Seven, six…”

Your eyes dart wildly around the massive space. There’s no way out. Not one that you can see, anyways. And there’s no time to think. You just need to keep moving. Keep running, and hide when you run out of time.

“Five, four, three…”

Keep running. A dark, narrow stream of water appears in front of you, and you leap over it. The far bank is slick, and when you land, you stumble. There’s a crunch beneath your feet.

“Two.”

You don’t stop to look. There’s nothing big around you - there’s nowhere to hide.

“ One.”

Just keep moving. You’ve made space. Eventually, there will be an escape. There has to be. This can’t go on forever.

“Time’s up.”

His voice…it’s close. Far too close to account for the seconds you spent running away. He’s somewhere to your left. You turn - and from your right, a hand lashes out, ensnaring you and sending you tumbling to the ground once more. This time, it’s his foot that pins you in place, pressing down on your spine as you wriggle helplessly beneath.

“That was disappointing,” he sighs. “You’re making this far too easy for me.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s incredible how fragile your kind is. If I’m not careful, I might actually break you.” He digs his heel into you, cackling as you cry out in pain. “Unfortunately, I don’t like being careful. It’s another one of those things that bores me.” He brings his foot up, and slides it under your stomach, effortlessly kicking you onto your back.

Your eyes have been squeezed tight - when you open them, his face is hovering over you. Both pairs of eyes stare malevolently into your own.

“I see that you’re done fighting. Probably a wise choice.” His voice is calm, and he’s smiling. It sends a shudder through your body. “But if you’ve given that up, you only have one option left.” His grin broadens, and he straightens up, standing tall, looming over you. “Get yourself up on your knees. I don’t like you lying down in my presence.”

Without a thought, you comply, rolling over and pushing yourself onto your knees, your head bowed. Your mind is numb, but you still know that obeying is your only choice.

“Good.” He pauses, takes a step back. “Now, I’ll be clear about my intentions.” He sweeps his foot across the ground, kicking a stray rock aside. It bounces through the cavern, every impact echoing across the walls. “Right now, nothing would bring me more pleasure than killing you.”

Your entire body stiffens. Your vision is hazy, scattered with black patches. And you can’t run. You already tried to run - and it only got you here.

“I’ve been thinking about all the ways I could do it,” he continues. “If I were feeling charitable, I would strangle you. But I’m not. I want to see blood. There are a lot of ways I could satisfy that desire - and some take longer than others.”

You’re fighting your body, trying not to keel over, tears suddenly obscuring your vision. When your captor notices, his laughter ricochets through the cave, vibrating across every inch of your skin. You have to look up. You have to see his face. Maybe you’ll see some reason for hope if you do. You raise your head - but you find yourself unable to look into his eyes. Instead, you find your gaze trailing up the length of his form, taking in small details, finding a strange calm in fixating upon them. He’s wearing a simple pair of sandals. A robe flows over them. The fabric is white with black designs, There’s a tie at the waist. Wide, flowing sleeves.

And that’s as far as you get. Once your gaze reaches the end of those sleeves, your small moment of tranquility is shattered, because out from under them protrude not one, but two sets of arms.

He talks like a man, but he isn’t. Everything you’ve witnessed - the eyes, the arms - it’s all impossible. But it’s real. You have to trust yourself. You know what you’ve seen. “What are you?”

He - it? - revels in your realization, a grin spreading over his face. “That’s a better question than your last two. But I’m not interested in answering it.” There’s a pause - he calmly tilts his head, thinking something through. “You’re so much fun… I don’t think I want to kill you quickly. I’ll enjoy it much more if I draw it out.” He sighs blissfully - almost theatrically. “It could last hours if I do it right. I’ll get to hear you beg for death long before you go limp in my hands.”

Your body jolts of its own accord, a last-ditch effort at escape, but you can’t find the control to bring yourself to your feet. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

“Oh, go on,” he sighs. “Beg for your life. But try to make it interesting. You all say the exact same thing, and it’s beginning to wear on me.”

“I…” Your mind is blank with terror, the few words you can summon rushing out of your mouth. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Your tears flow down your face, build up in your throat, choke your words. “I don’t want to die. I want to go home. Please let me go home.” You tense at the swish of his robes - he’s stepping closer, cutting your time short.

“Boring.” He brings up his left hand (one of them) and strikes the side of your face. When you cry out, he repeats the action on the other side. Then, he takes your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, and brushes away a stray tear as it slides down your cheek. “Try again,” he commands. “I won’t give you a third chance.”

At the last possible moment, a strangely clear thought enters your head. There is no happy ending here. You can’t escape. All you can do is try to save yourself - by any means necessary. So, finally, you allow yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away as he bares his teeth. “Do what you want with me. I’ll entertain you in any way you please.” He raises an eyebrow - you’ve managed to say something that interests him. But he wants more. “Let me…” You pause, and force yourself to breathe. In, out. It’s too late to do anything but this. You cannot go back. You have to finish. “Let me prove that I’m more valuable to you alive.”

A rumble of laughter echoes through the cavern, seemingly emerging from the walls themselves. “Fascinating.” He lashes out with one of his hands and wraps it tightly around your neck. “No one’s ever said that before.” You gasp for air, and he slaps another hand over your mouth. “You’re weak…but you have some resolve. I like that.”

You breathe shallowly through your nose, already light-headed, your pulse thudding against his palm.

“I think…” He pauses, staring you down. You don’t look away. “I think I’ll keep you.” The relief in your eyes must be obvious - and it doesn’t last long. “For as long as you can handle it.” Another hand springs out, twists its long fingers through your hair. “For as long as you’re alive…you’re mine. The moment you forget that - the moment you fail, or disobey - that’s when your life will end. Understood?”

You have no choice - you nod as best you can, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as he yanks at your hair.

“Good.” His voice softens, lowers to barely more than a whisper. “We’ll start with something simple.” He sounds almost kind, but you know it’s just part of the game. The fist still grasping at your throat is enough to remind you of that. “Undo the knot at my waist.”

Your hands shake as you bring them up, and you find yourself focusing on small details once again. The cuff of your sleeve is torn, and there’s a smudge of something dark on your left hand - residue from your fall. The knot you’ve been tasked with untying is simple. A single pull at one end unravels it. The fabric is smooth, soft, and there are layers to the robe. The last is made of fine silk, its shine reflecting the dark red glow of the cavern around you. It’s held in place by a silk band, tied with the same simple knot as the first…

When your eyes catch on the space below the knot, you feel a deep pit open up in your stomach. The silhouette before you - it’s wrong. Warped. Exaggerated beyond the point of making any sense at all.

“Haven’t you heard?” drawls the voice above you. “It’s not dignified to stare.” He presses his palm to the back of your neck, urging you closer. “Fortunately, I have no interest in preserving your dignity.”

This is not a man. You’ve seen how this looks on men. The shape he carves in front of you…it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before.

He inhales deeply, and brings up a third hand to trace the line of your jaw. “Go on. I know you’re curious.”

The words sting, because he’s right. You want him to disappear and never return, but for as long as he’s standing over you, you’re going to want to know. It makes you loathe yourself. Makes you want to bury your head in the dust beneath you.

“Don’t make me impatient.” He brings you closer by your hair, and the silk of his robe brushes the tip of your nose. “I have enough in store for you as it is.”

Your fingers flutter over the final knot, missing the end twice before you manage to grasp it. The fabric parts, and you see exactly what your imagination conjured, what you didn’t dare believe before witnessing it yourself. Two thick, vein-laden cocks, one directly above the other, half-hard and already bigger than any man’s should be. Each has two black bands under the tip, reminiscent of the markings on his face - you glance up, and see that his chest is littered with them too.

There’s a part of you that wants to look away. You hate the part of you that doesn’t, that keeps you staring.

He smirks, and plunges your face into him, dragging your cheek down one shaft, up the other. “Choose.” There’s a terrible hunger in his voice, and you can feel him stiffen against your face. “You weren’t made to take both... soon, you will, but today…” He exhales sharply, and runs a finger over your lips. “You get to pick your favorite.”

If he were to pry open your mouth and force himself inside, this wouldn’t be so humiliating. Instead, he drops his hands from your neck and your hair, and waits for you to move, both sets of eyes narrowed in silent mockery. Slowly, you expose your tongue, and - eyes screwed shut - brush it over the lower tip. You feel his hand pass above you, and the second presence seems to disappear. There’s no sigh, no shudder as your tongue drags up his length, no hand on the back of your head as you close your lips around him.

A subtle thrust - with his size, it’s enough to make you sputter. “Why are your eyes closed?” he muses. “Scared of what you’ve seen? Or scared that you’ll enjoy it?”

Your eyes snap open before you can help it, defiance glowing inside them for just a moment.

“Oh, don’t be offended. I don’t care either way. And if you’re struggling, I’m glad to help you along.”

You try to shake your head - too late. He knots his hand through your hair once again, gradually pushing you down until it’s too much and you can’t stop yourself from gagging, choking. You’re nowhere near the base, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too big for you, and he knows it, but he holds you where you are, unmoved as you instinctively try to pull back. You feel like you can’t breath - if it wasn’t suicide, you’d use your teeth to escape -

He pulls you up. You take a breath, and immediately have it pressed from your lungs as he tugs you forward again. Again, again - each time he seems to test you more, force more into your throat, and the more you struggle, the more violent it turns. A pair of fingernails slices your cheek, slashes through the tunic clinging raggedly to your shoulder, scratches at the skin beneath.

You can hear his heavy breaths, although you wonder whether he even needs to breathe, or only does it for effect. You need to breathe - there’s an odd taste in your mouth beneath the feel of his skin, the metallic tang of pushing yourself too far, but he gives you no time to ponder it.

He lets go of your hair. “Keep going. Prove yourself.”

You ignore the blood dripping down your cheek, ignore the pounding in your temples, and do as he says. No hesitation - you force yourself down again and again, as if you still have his hand at the back of your head, choking yourself on his cock.

“ That’s right.”

You’re crying - truly, fully crying - but you don’t stop to wipe the tears away, even when you feel them building up in your nose. Stopping is not an option. Failing…you can’t even think about what would happen then.

Two heavy hands fall upon your shoulders, knuckles tightening - you hold yourself still while he tenses, his cock wedged deep in your throat, stilling your breath completely. His grip is tight, controlled, until he’s emptied himself inside you, until you’ve swallowed every drop.

He recovers all too quickly, stepping back and hauling you to your feet.

“You have promise.” Without warning, he plunges his hand down your trousers, inside your undergarments, carefully stroking the pads of his fingers over the slit of your cunt. His eyes widen, and his lips curl. “And you’re wet …why is that?”

Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly. It doesn’t make sense to you, either.

“Embarrassed? Perhaps you should be. I was under the impression that this was a last resort for you. Not something you’d been craving…” He tugs at your trousers and the waistband beneath, leaving you bare to the knees, and drops you to the ground, presses you onto your back. “Touch yourself.”

“Now?” You hate how pathetic you sound, hate the way it amuses him.

“Yes.” He grabs your wrist, guides it between your legs. “Get yourself worked up for me. Looking at the state of you, I doubt it will take long.”

You’ve never done this with someone watching you. Your fingers are clumsy, slowly tracing over your body, your mind struggling to fall into the right place. When he clasps one hand over your eyes and another over your mouth, it gets easier - although you know better than to ever admit it.

“Look at you. Any sensible human would find this impossible. But you…you’re actually enjoying yourself right now.” You pause, and he slaps a third hand over your own. “Don’t stop. I want to see what this does to you.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, slides the hand to your inner thigh. “You’re terrified - those pretty tear-stains on your face are good enough proof of that. But there’s something in you that’s conflicted…” He replaces your slowly-moving hand with his own, pinching your clit between his fingers. “I don’t mind. It means I get to push you harder before you break.”

You squirm uncontrollably. This is pleasure and pain in equal measures, and the fact that you don’t really want it to stop sends a fresh wave of shame rolling over you. You try to ignore it. You know you have no choice. It was this, or a much more permanent fate. If you manage to enjoy a small part of it, that’s not such a bad thing…

“I think that’s enough.” He stops, and your whimpers are muffled as he flips you onto your stomach and presses your face to the ground. “Maybe I’ll let you try again later. For now…” He pulls your hands behind your back, brings your feet up to meet them, secures yours ankles to your wrists with the discarded ties from his robes. “You’re going to be unsupervised for a while. I don’t want you getting into any trouble while I’m gone.”

You’re not sure where he goes - you can’t bring yourself to lift your face until long after his footsteps have faded away. When you do, you topple onto your side, and stare cross-eyed at the blurred walls around you. You wonder if he only left to savor the feeling of cutting your pleasure short, or to give you time to imagine what he might do to you upon his return. It’s effective. You know that this was only your first test, and with nothing to distract you, you can’t help but picture what might come next.

Only a few paces from you, there’s a chilling sight - a human skull lying crooked on the ground, a jagged hole visible on its brow. When you see it, you’re newly aware of the cuts on your cheek, the sting of blood drying on your skin. He was holding back. Being gentle, by his own standards.

You’ll give everything you have to keep him that way.

calling it now, this man is gonna be responsible for jjk trending once again. only difference is that this time we are all sad instead of horny

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