The Lesson of Fear
Chapter 1

Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Rape, Heterosexual, Fiction, Horror, BDSM, MaleDom, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Violent,

Desc: Horror Sex Story: Chapter 1 - 22 year old Belle has always been fascinated by the villain. She's tried getting her lover to participate in some mild bdsm, but somehow it never felt like enough. Then a local serial killer started terrorizing her town and she found herself fantasising about being the one girl to satisfy his dark needs. WARNING: Extreme, bloody and brutal contents. All of the actions by both people are purely consensual.

I never thought I'd find myself in this situation, testing my binds and looking for an escape. No, this was certainly not the meager role-play I'd done with my boyfriend, so many times before. This was real. The threats, the kidnapping, the murderer ... all real.

A shriek escapes me as the man drops me roughly onto the concrete floor of the underground bunker. My head bounces off of it, a dull headache and ringing in my ears. The floor is cold against my nearly naked skin, easily seeping through my thin underwear. He's whistling while he locks the hatch that we came in from. Though I do feel scared, I can't help but admire him for that brief moment that he looks at me, in the dim lighting of the room. His green eyes are alight beneath his shaggy, blood red hair. A manic grin stretches the features of his pale white, angular face. His build is perfect...

At least I get some good eye candy while I'm dying. The morbid thought makes me want to laugh, despite my situation, but I try to hold it back. Instead I find myself smiling through the gag he'd put on me earlier. Maybe if I just pretend that it's all role-play, it'll be easier. Yeah, that should work.

His grin falters then. He looks at me curiously. "Are you ... smiling?"

I freeze, forgetting my thoughts as he angrily stalks towards me. Hand at my jaw he shoves me against the nearest wall, rage consuming his features. I do my best not to struggle, even when his fingers dig into my skin. "You're not supposed to be enjoying this." He hisses in my ear.

The click of a blade chases away my hopes of pretending, and I look over to see a small but sharp pocket knife in his gloved hand. He brings it closer to me, rubbing the flat of the blade on my neck. I'm trembling. The man inhales deeply. "Ah, there's that fear..."

I whimper softly, closing my eyes and bracing for whatever he might do next. I have to remind myself that this man intends to kill me at some point, and I should probably give him what he wants if I want any chance of escape. My body, however, is growing more and more excited due to the complete lack of control. It's all I can do not to moan.

"Hmm ... I think I'll take the gag off of you now. We are, after all, underground in the middle of nowhere." His eyes have a mischievous glint in them as he breathes the next part on my neck, "And I want to hear you scream."

I can't help it. A shuddering, obviously horny whine escapes my throat. My eyes are locked on his lips. I want nothing more than for him to remove this gag and make me scream in whatever brutal, viscous ways he can think of without killing me while he crushes my lips beneath his. He notices, pushing my chin up with his thumb and staring at me. His eyes are hard, his lips curled in a snarl.

Apparently, he decides to let it go, as he roughly removes the gag, making sure to yank my head around painfully while doing so, finally setting on pulling it straight back so that my nose is skyward, my face twisting in pain, and a pounding headache rips though me so bad I can barely see. His kiss is brutal; I can feel his teeth grinding against my own with how hard he's kissing me. My lips are bruised, split and bleeding. He presses himself hard against me, holding my bound body up on its toes. I'm almost thankful for the feeling of his chest pressing against my aching nipples as he tries even harder to intimidate me.

The next moment I'm on the ground again, landing painfully on my side as he releases my body. He stands there, breathing heavily, his arousal bulging through his pants, before he turns to me. "What do you think you're doing to me, you little vixen?"

"I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean too, I just—."


I don't just shut up, I hold my breath, watching him carefully. My thighs rub together, and I can already feel myself growing more and more wet. The minutes pass as he begins pacing, rambling to himself and waving the knife around. Occasionally he'll point it at me: "You did this." "You're supposed to be screaming." And then finally, he walks back over to me, kneeling down so that his face is level with mine, "WHY ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS?" He screams shaking the knife at me.

By instinct I shrink back, tears threatening to escape. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Please..." I feel my lips start to quiver as I look from the knife back to him, fully aware that he could kill me at any second, "Please calm down. I'll be good ... I promise."

"You want to be good?" He says loudly, not quite screaming, but not in a normal tone either, and he kneels over me taking the sharp edge of the knife and dragging it along one arm, then the other. "Start screaming," he growls, then presses it into my skin even harder.

Sharp, burning pain makes me obey as the blade cuts into my shoulder. Again, my nipples ache and I find myself looking at him, longing for another brutal kiss. Never, in any role-play, has my boyfriend cared to go this far, with complete and total disregard.

"Please," I sob pitifully. After almost an hour of squeezing my legs together with need I'm a puddle of mindless hormones, but I can't get the words out. I'm lost in delicious, blinding pain. He continues sinking the blade in just about a half inch or so on either shoulder, bringing me to the brink of passing out, before pulling back, just enough to keep me conscious. "Please ... please ... please..."

He dips his head down, licking my wounds before he makes his way up to me, grinning again. "Please, what?"

He stops then, sitting perfectly still, and watching me. I finally gave him the reaction he wanted, and now that I was crying hysterically due to the pain, I could do nothing more than open my mouth a little and stare at his lips. He scoffs. "You think I want to kiss you?"

I nod, hopeful. All rationality is now hazed over with sexual and sick yearning. "Please..." I manage, eyes still locked on his lips. But instead they curl in a revolted snarl for the slightest moment before becoming a mocking sneer.

Again, he twists his fingers in my hair, shaking his head slowly. He's hovering just above me now, his face still twisted in a mix of manic emotions. "You have no idea what you're asking for, girl."

This time, he starts to kiss me gently, lightly touching my bruised lips with his. When he breaks it, he's smiling. "You think your enjoying the fear?" He asks only half caring for my answer. Another kiss, just a little more intense. A seemingly normal, passionate lover's kiss. "You're getting all excited, because you think you like the pain I'm causing you." This kiss was rough by a lot of standards, but nothing compared to what he'd given me before, and still I find myself eagerly nodding and whimpering when he pulls away once more. His eye catches mine, and he whispers harshly, "You sick, disgusting little whore."

And I'm lost in a blur of grinding teeth, the faint taste of metal, and a wonderful throbbing in my lips that seems to pulsate throughout my whole jaw with the strength of his kiss. His hands are roaming my body, one hand carelessly dragging the knife along with it. I hiss at the burning trail left by its blade, then gasp and scream. His right hand has found it's way to my breasts, and relentlessly twists my nipple and squeezes my whole right breast until I can look at it and easily distinguish a mix of blues and greens painting my skin.

"Do you still think you like it, whore?" He asks me, nipping at my neck and drawing tiny droplets of blood.

I nod, but that doesn't satisfy him. About an half-inches worth of the knife's tip digs into my upper, outer thigh, making me scream even louder. "Say it then."

The man removes the knife, and I moan when he presses his fingers to it flat. "I love the way you use me," I breathe staring hard at the ceiling to keep myself focused. His fingers press harder into my newest wound in warning. "Look at me when you say it."

I force myself to relax, and obey, repeating the sentence with my eyes on his. For a moment, it seems that he's surprised, but his confidence returns as he cuts the ties to my legs, carelessly cutting my ankles. "I'll teach you what real fear is," he says, determined. He crawls between my legs and pulls my panties out of the way, that blade of his ever present. He lightly rubs the flat of it over my most sensitive areas before turning it, so that it's the actual sharpened side of it just slightly cutting into the flesh of my pussy.

It's no more damage than a paper cut, and yet my heart races at the slight sting. I force myself to remain perfectly still but for my heaving chest. Noticing this, he brings the blade up to my clit, my most sensitive, generally untouched part, and carefully drags the blade across it. I tremble, a shuddering wordless cry of pain and pleasure escaping me.

"You naughty little vixen," he says, more to himself. He runs the flat of the blade inside my pussy lips and draws it back. My excitement glistens on the blade, even hanging in a tiny strand. He brings the blade to my mouth and instructs me to clean it. "Suck it until you taste blood." He tells me.

He doesn't look away from me for a second. When I feel the slice on my tongue I open my mouth to show him, finding myself being passionately kissed by him seconds later. My bra's cut open then, my breasts tingling in the sudden chill of the air just before he presses himself against me. The kiss ends for the moment, and he lightly kisses and licks his way down to my bruised breast again, just barely flicking his tongue at my nipple. Then he sucks it gently up into his mouth, playing with my other breast with his left hand. His right hand is focused on holding my bruised right breast, lightly poking and prodding at the wounds. I whine at all of the sudden gentleness, my pussy throbbing and demanding rough, pounding torture.

"What is it that you want, my vixen?" He croons twisting the nipple of my undamaged breast hard enough to make me shriek. "Tell me."

"I want you to fuck me," I say shyly, but am rewarded with nothing more than another, more painful, sensation that is surely causing bruises similar to the rest of me.


"I want you to fuck me!" I yell, pressing into his hand, and he encloses his hand in as much of a fist as he can with the flesh of my breast still in it.


"Fuck me!" I scream, and he finally releases his hand, though I'm still sobbing. "Please, please fuck me," I beg, thrusting my hips and rubbing myself against him for a brief second before he pushes them back down.

Saying nothing, he grabs my hair and drags me into a sitting position on my knees. His fingers pry my mouth open. I watch in awe as he pulls his manhood out from his pants and strokes it, gauging my reaction. I don't doubt that he's a good nine inches of pure brutality. Just looking at it makes me ache even more (if possible!).

"Keep your legs spread," he instructs me, "And don't you dare cum."

I nod, my mouth still wide open. Without warning, he begins to face fuck me, relentlessly shoving my head farther and farther onto his dick each time. I start to panic when I feel him force his length down my throat as far as he can before dragging it back out. He does this several times. Tears pour down my face with how bad it hurts to feel his wide cock stretching out my throat on the times that it doesn't just bruise the back of it. Then he shoves it all the way in, one last time, and holds my face so that I can feel the soft flesh of his balls on my chin. When I first feel this, I try my best to lick around his shaft and pleasure him, enjoying the natural panic building as I worry whether or not he'll release me.

Then, one clear thought breaks through my sexual haze. This isn't roleplay, this is real life. This man has no doubt killed others before me, and choking me out on his dick? Not something I would put past a murderer. That's when I start to genuinly panic, trying my best to pull myself off of him but he holds me in place easily. His face is relaxed in pure ecstasy. Just before I pass out I feel his hot load shooting down my throat.


I wake up to a throbbing, dry pain in my ass. I'm bent over, my face being pressed and held roughly into the concrete. The taste of cum hovers in the back of my senses. It feels as though I'm being turned inside out as someone large slams inside of me, groaning in pleasure. My body continuously tries to reject the massive girth invading me, making it that much more painful as they force their way in again and again. I'm almost sure something's been torn. And I couldn't love it more.

I'm thankful for the ropes that prevent me from moving, because my body is convulsing in sheer pain, and upon finally coming to my senses I can't decide between moaning or screaming ... or both. His fingers dig into my hip as he pulls me into him, his other hand still pressing my face to the concrete. When he hears me scream he pulls out and turns me onto my back, forcibly stretching my knees up by my head so that my ass is skyward for him.

"Welcome back," He muses, biting my lip and leaning over me, relishing in the uncomfortable position he's holding me in. Instead of continuing to pound my ass, he dips his head down and drags his tongue across it. He teases it for a while before placing his hot mouth onto my drenched pussy. I feel relief as he begins to suck and lick at it, sucking especially hard on my clit so that my whole pussy swells deliciously. His tongue dips into my hole and, still holding my position with one hand, he takes his middle finger and stuffs it into my ass while he eats me. My anus clenches around his finger, sending a shiver through me. He does this for a long time, teasing me till I'm right at the brink of satisfaction, and then pulling back.

Then finally, "Come, whore."

And I obey his command. A painful, strong orgasm takes me in one intense wave. I can feel my pussy juices squirting out of me and all over his hand. Without removing his hand he licks up my juices and pulls away. I feel empty when he removes his fingers, but it isn't long before he replaces them with his cock.

Having came so hard, I'm thrown out of my sexual haze and into sensibility. The burning cuts and aching bruises on my body that thrilled me so much seconds ago, are only pain now, including the harsh bend of my neck and shoulders as almost my entire body weight is balanced on top of me, and pounded with the brutal strength of a psychopath.

"You look so uncomfortable now, little whore." He croons, "I thought you liked the way I used you?"

I can't respond. The pain is growing more and more unbearable with every thrust he gives me, but I don't dare beg for mercy. My discomfort pleases him. The painful grunts and shrieks I let out while he slams into me bringing him even closer to another release.

"ANSWER ME!" He screams suddenly, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look at him once again. Still, I can't respond through the blinding pain. He pulls out of me and stands, letting my body fall harshly to the floor.

"That's okay," He says, smiling triumphantly, "You're still not done with your lesson."

And he leaves the room, his cock still hanging out, stiff and hard, with no indication as to how long I'm going to be left here, waiting.

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