Chapter 1

DISCLAIMERS Please read!

This is very dark HORROR. It includes absolute non-mutual non-con / rape!

These disclaimers are to help you know if my story is for you or not. I don’t want to spring things on anyone. Back out now if any of this doesn’t sound like your kind of thing!

The POINT of my writing is to combine VIOLENCE, HORROR, and EXTREME TABOO themes, trying to creep myself out as I write. This whole story is told through the eyes of a VILLAIN. If you do not enjoy very dark themes, this is not for you!

In this story, I’m not too worried about realism or plot. It’s 100% disgusting smut. My time stop mechanic is basically where the narrator can freeze/paralyze anyone and anything he wants. Everyone mostly just goes limp/unconscious. Gravity still works, bodies still react slightly. He has done this before and never explains how or why he has this power.

This one will be 6 parts total once I get them all uploaded. Just be warned, each one gets more intense!

This is a work of fiction. I do not condone any of the things I write about. All characters are 18+. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

FETISH WARNINGS -Gross and creepy sniffing / tasting (panties, sweat, everything) -Intense rape / sadism / violence towards woman

This bitch sitting in front of me will not shut up. My wife’s upset next to me in the window seat. I’m furious. Middle of the night. Everyone around trying to sleep. No one can. Bitch keeps coughing, on a packed train, in the middle of a pandemic.

We’ve all been stuck for hours here with her, an overnight train from Boston to Rochester. And she’s sprawled out halfway into the aisle. Shoes off. And coughing. “At least bring a cough drop,” I mutter to myself.

Old folks across the aisle from her shift uncomfortably, glancing over every so often, clearly nervous about catching something from her. Every time she talks, the bitch snaps at people, cussing at the staff, an attitude like she’s better than everyone else. She looks like a college kid, late teens maybe. Rich. Dark hair, expensive clothing. She flaunts her good looks. And she keeps fucking coughing with her mask off, clearly sick.

I sit here wishing, imagining what I would do. If only I could. And then it happens. Everything stops. A low hum. Then calm. Peace and silence. I smile. I breathe in deep, taking in the moment. Then my mind races in possibilities.

I look to my wife on my right, bundled up leaning on the window, trying to sleep. She looks miserable. Plenty of other days she’s the first thing on my mind. Not tonight. I give her a kiss on the cheek, then turn and stand.

I have only one thing in mind, but it can wait. Everything is perfect in the silence. I enjoy it for a bit, walking up and down the aisles, looking at all the people, messing around, touching people here and there. Not many women catch my attention, but there’s a few. Another time maybe I’d indulge my curiosities, but my mind keeps returning to the Bitch. I have to take these feelings out on her, not these innocent chicks. On the way back to my seat, I stop in the cafe and grab a few things. Why not, I’ll probably make her pay for it all later anyway.

Back to my seat, toss the food down, look at the seat in front of mine. Let’s have some fun.

“God you really are fucking hot, aren’t you?” I can talk openly to myself, no one hears. She’s laying sprawled out sideways, clearly having terrorized the poor older lady next to her, who has shrunken as far as she can get toward the window. Trying to sleep, trying not to get sick. The Bitch’s head lays on the aisle armrest, trying to make a bed out of a seat, at the expense of everyone around her. Her stupid pretty head, dark brown wavy hair pulled up in a bird’s nest, so effortlessly sexy. I kept noticing her do up her hair. One of those girls, always raising up her arms. Like, look at me doing my hair. Give me attention.

She lays sideways in a sort of fetal position, seat leaned way back and leg rest raised to make a sort of bed. But somehow also sprawling out her legs so the lady next to her has less room. Clearly on purpose. And her head is on her armrest so much that her stupid hair is halfway in the aisle, people keep having to scoot around it awkwardly. And she even watches them struggle. Her body hard to see at all, she’s just a nest of blankets and shit. No shoes, only socks, against the rules. Bundled in too many blankets and pillows for a bed let alone a public place. But everything, her blankets, her appearance, her phone, her bags, she’s got money. The kind of person that clearly has more than others, flaunts it, her life probably so easy, yet it’s not enough. She complains constantly, looks down on everyone. My blood boils.

Her eyes closed, eyebrows dark and thick and done up nice. Makeup, kinda glistening. Her mask barely on her chin, blatantly ignoring all rules. But damn she’s fuckable. A face ready for Instagram even when she’s coughing, sick, trying to sleep on a fucking train.

I grab a handful of her nest of hair. She has so much thick, wavy, beautiful hair, bound up in a loose, lazy bun thing. Even with my blood pumping hot, I stop and admire the feel. Silky and soft, so much work goes into her hair, her whole appearance. I get close, kneeling down, and touch more, her soft blankets emitting so much nice warmth, her face smooth, her scent, fuck she smells good. I climb over her, practically lay down with her, really taking this girl in. I breathe in her hair. Why do girls try to smell like desserts, what is that vanilla and fruit? Whatever it is, it’s perfect. I breathe more, nuzzling into her, breathing in her neck, her blankets.

I feel around, my weight completely on her. In this calm moment, my heart is racing, not letting me sit still, I feel soft shoulders and back from under blankets, she looked skinny but she’s squishy and fragile and womanly. I breathe in more of that hair and neck, feeling lower down the curve of her hips and ass. God damn.

I nibble at her partially exposed ear, the taste is slightly salty, she hasn’t showered in a bit since we’ve been on this train all day, but she still kinda sweet. She just seems flawless. I nuzzle more, breathing it all in.

Fuck, I’m so hard I can’t quite relax on her. I kiss, I lick, tasting around her ear, cheek, down into the warm crevasse of her neck. She’s so sweet, a hint of saltiness. Her stupid mask, falling off, in the way, and then I notice her breath. It’s not ... bad, but it’s not sweet like the rest of her. It snaps me back to reality a bit. A flaw, if slight. “So you’re not perfect.” I see her again for the bitch she is. The calm moment is over. Anger again.

“Come here.” And I stand, grab a handful of bird’s nest hair again, a grip that would hurt if she was awake, yanking her head up with no remorse with my right hand, slapping her in the face with the other. Maybe too hard. Nah nothing damaging. I slap again, again, her mask flies off. The rest of her face revealed, and damn she’s unfairly hot, like some wannabe Kardashian or something. Her lips plump and glossy, maybe some slight freckles on her stupid make-upped face, a perfect sort of Italian type girl, skin the right sort of fairness for my taste, but a bit of that rich olive, darker complexion.

I slap again harder, a girl that’s never had hardship, never been hit, no one could dream of harming her. It’s surreal, imagine doing this normally. She’d be screaming and bitching, everyone around running wild. It could never happen. I slap again harder. Her cheek red, a slight trickle of blood from her nose.

Still holding up her head with my right hand, I move out toward the aisle, casually pulling her entire body behind me with all my strength, only by her hair. I feel a bit rip in my hand, but she moves, limp, falling violently from her chair. Blankets uncovered a bit, I whip them the rest of the way off and leave them behind. I have to grab her chin with my left hand to get her to keep dragging, but by head and hair alone, I manage to drag her roughly out into the aisle, toward the open space for baggage. I throw some bags out of the way more and let her head clunk down on the floor. She’s face down, head cocked sideways awkwardly, laying on her cheek.

I stop to admire. She’s wearing a thin but warm, expensive white knit sweater, covering her modestly, but tight to her form in a classy, sexy way. Tight-fitting dark gray sweatpants. ‘Joggers’ I guess, not quite yoga pants, but still tight and thin and slightly up her asscrack, on purpose of course. Perfect clean cute little blue socks, toes awkwardly pointing at each other from being dragged. Her outfit is like what a rich person wears when they’re roughing it.

I glance back at those little socks, for some reason it makes me think hey this is someone’s daughter. Some rich assholes that gave her everything. Maybe making her take this train for the holidays, like it’ll be good for her to travel like normal people for once. A perfect little life at others’ expense, untouchable. Little do they know...

I kneel down. Where to begin, so many options. But I have time. No rush, I can go as many rounds as I want.

I go straight in like I own it, and feel her ass, no need to ask, no need to lead up to it. Fuck it’s too good. Soft, squishy, slightly bigger than a girl this thin should have. She’s kinda tall, I notice. Maybe more my height, I’m used to shorter girls. Hmm I like it. Sort of a volleyball figure. And her legs in these joggers, damn, so curvy and long. Her thighs on the thicker side to go with that ass. I feel them up and down, the smoothness, the warmth, the meatiness, her pants rippling as I feel exactly what I want, roughly, with no thought to how she feels or what she thinks of me. I grip her inner thigh as hard as I can, because I can. Then I slap her ass literally full force. it ripples and shakes for a full second. The feeling of not having to hold back is invigorating. I slap again, watching the effect, her whole body rolled a bit on that one. I punch, maybe not quite full force, I’ve never punched a girl before, in the ass no less, God this is great.

I can’t take it, I dive face first, lying roughly on her legs. Stuffing my nose right in her asscrack, right where her asshole is beneath that cloth. Inhaling deeply, my head buzzing in lust. More of her sweet smell, slightly tinged, slightly dirty and musky, but still so sweet. An unmistakable hint of that tangy, salty smell of woman, of panties, of sweat from a day of sitting, of pussy and ass. I rub my face around, gripping asscheeks with both hands and smushing them around. Forcing my face in deeper, smothering myself, pushing her cheeks toward mine. Breathing deeply again and again. I get a hint of that smell, then lose the scent because I’m getting light headed, then get it again as I breathe more and more of her.

I lift my head back up to look her up and down. I smack her ass with both hands, dig my face in again, smack and grip as hard as I possibly can while breathing her in again. I feel the rippling verberation on my face as I smother myself deeper. My mouth wide open, licking at the cloth. Slap, inhale, punch, inhale.

All of this would never be allowed, with any girl. The pain she would feel, and how weird it would be. But no one knows, so I’m free, I can do anything.

I lift up and see her perfect rump right in front of my dazed eyes. I bite, hard, more than you’d ever get away with, probably leaving a mark. I slap and breathe and rub my face in for a few minutes. Until it starts to get boring. I remember there’s so much more to do.