Dark Smut🔪🥀🖤

28 • she/her • dark fantasies • mdni/18+

[subshine-thoughts]

You hate Nazis? Oh and you value empathy above everything else? Oh AND consent is of the utmost importance to you?

Do you happen to be looking for a wife?

[just-somedude-deactivated202502]

Porn is better when you're asleep and don't know I'm making it with you

[subshine-thoughts]

Waking up with a hand over your mouth and his cock pounding into you from behind. "Morning, princess. I know I said I'd stop doing this, but I couldn't help myself. You just look so pretty when you're sleeping. You'll forgive me, right? Yes? That's my good girl, I knew you would."

[subshine-thoughts]

Please please please I just want a man to pin me against a wall and slap my tits until they're bright red and there are tears in my eyes, and then shove me to my knees and use my throat like his own personal fleshlight pleeeeeaseeee 🥺

[darksmut]

Halloween Night, pt. 1

TW: Noncon, bullying, degradation

You're at a Halloween party, trying to have a night of fun away from your college bullies. You made sure they knew you wouldn't be here so you could have a night of peace while they're looking for you elsewhere.

So far, it's going well. You end up flirting with a guy who's wearing one of those light-up masks with X's for eyes and a stitched mouth. About an hour in, you follow him upstairs.

Once you're locked in a bedroom, you reach for his mask. “I want to kiss you.”

He pushes your hands away. “Later. For now, get on your knees.”

You have no idea who this man really is—what dark and twisted things he wants to do to you. You're just happy to finally have a night without your tormentors following you around.

Or so you thought.

He lets you suck his dick for a second before he takes over, thrusting into your mouth. You gag, but he doesn't seem to care much about your discomfort.

“Oh, such a good girl for me. Your throat was made for this.” He pulls out and thrusts into your mouth again. “So fucking tight.”

He stops long enough to cuff your hands behind your back before shoving his cock down your throat. You've always wanted to be used like a toy, and now, your fantasy is finally coming to life.

His hands are in your hair, and he's fucking your face like you're nothing more than a fleshlight. It doesn't matter when you gag or struggle to breathe.

When you whimper around his cock and try to pull back to get some air, he just holds your head in place. His dick is deep down your throat, your nose pressed to his stomach. You're completely helpless and at his mercy.

“You can take it,” he tells you. “Be a good toy for me. This is what you wanted.”

He watches with sadistic satisfaction as you start to panic. Your eyes widen as your need to breathe intensifies.

Only when you gag hard enough that you almost puke does he let up. He stares down at you, covered in drool and tears and precum.

“God, you’re a mess.”

And then he's groping your breasts like you're some kind of sex doll. Because to him, in the moment, you are.

When he pinches your nipples hard, you cry out, but your body instinctively arches into his touch. Even though it hurts, you somehow want more.

“You’re a little masochist, aren’t you?” He pinches harder, and his eyes light up when you wince. “Open wide.”

You do, but instead of fucking your throat again, he shoves his fingers far enough into your mouth to make you gag.

When he pulls out, you barely have time to catch your breath before he's yanking you up and bending you over the bed. He kicks your feet apart and slaps your ass, and a moan escapes you.

“You’re nothing but a desperate fucking slut, aren’t you?” He does it again.

Your cheeks burn, but a sick part of you loves being humiliated like this. “I am. Please—please fuck me like I’m a whore.”

“Oh, I’ll do much more than that.”

He flips your skirt up and rips off your fishnets and panties. “So wet,” he chides. “You really are the perfect toy, you know that? I bet I could fuck you right now, and I’d slide in with no resistance.”

“W-what?” you ask, panicked. “No, wait. You’re too big.”

“You can handle it. Don’t tell me no now.”

“Go slow,” you beg.

He doesn't.

He slams into you, and it hurts, but it feels good, too. He ignores your screams, and you're sure no one else hears. The music from the party is too loud, and everyone is too absorbed in having their own fun.

The masked man keeps you pinned to the bed while he fucks you relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, powerless to stop him as he uses you for his pleasure.

“Take it,” he growls. “That’s all you’re good for. Just a set of warm holes to be fucked.”

Finally, he pulls out to give you a break. A bandana is placed over your eyes a few seconds later, blindfolding you.

He switches positions so you're riding him, but not before rewarding you with a kiss. It melts your brain, helping you to relax even though your pussy is already sore.

Just as you start to move, you feel his hands on you.

No, wait. There's more. You're being touched all over, by more than one person.

Your chest tightens, and your earlier panic comes back. “Wait—what? What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry.” He thrusts into you. “My friends want you, too.”

You're a little weirded out that he didn't mention this when he brought you up here, but their hands feel so good on your body. One of them sucks on your nipples, and it does you in.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasp, and just as you fall into your orgasm, one of the guys rips off your blindfold.

And in an instant, everything changes.

The three men in the room with you—with their hands all over you, giving you more pleasure than you've experienced in years—are your three bullies.

They watch with sick satisfaction as your cries of pleasure morph into a horrified scream.

“No,” you sob. You start struggling against them, but they hold you in place. “No, no, no!”

The one you followed up here—his mask now gone—keeps a firm hold on your hips. Even as you scream and cry and beg him to stop, he keeps fucking you, and his friends don't let you escape.

“How—how could you?” you cry.

He tricked you. For once, you thought you could have a fun night with a stranger, but it was all a ruse.

One of his friends silences you with a hand over your mouth. “You didn’t think someone would actually want you, did you?”

Tears burn your eyes. You're sure you look pathetic. Your clothes are ripped, your face is covered in drool, tears, and ruined makeup, and you're being held down by three men. Even your muffled whimpers sound humiliating.

And then the one fucking you comes, not bothering to pull out. He fills you with his cum, and you realize he's getting off on breaking you like this

No, not just him.

All three of them are.

... To be continued.

Psssst this is a scene from Ruined by E. Bishop. It's in Kindle Unlimited and is mostly noncon smut with a little plot.

[classycookiexo]

[bktempted-deactivated20251221]

Scream. "Wow. Terrifying," you say, your voice a flat counterpoint to the cacophony of recorded screams and delighted yelps. One of your friends punches your arm, laughing at you. "Oh, come on! Get into it! It’s Halloween!"

You force a tight-lipped smile. You hate this. The predictable jump scares, the cheap cobwebs in your face. You’re here because your friends begged, because it was the "fun group activity" of the month, and you’d rather endure this than the subsequent week of being called a spoilsport.

You walk through a corridor designed to look like a decrepit asylum. A girl in a tattered nurse’s uniform, her face painted a ghastly white, lurches toward your group, her fingers bent into claws. Your friends scream and recoil. You're a bit more reserved.

"The contacts are a nice touch," you offer. "Really sells the whole 'soulless husk' thing."

The actress breaks character for a split second, her scowl genuine before she remembers her role and melts back into the shadows. You're not sure why she took it so personally, you were being nice. You gave a compliment!

The next section is a disorienting maze of black-painted plywood walls. The only light is a pulsating red bulb somewhere in the ceiling, casting everything in a hellish glow. Your friends are huddled together, giggling nervously. You trail a few feet behind, your hands in your jacket pockets, utterly detached. This is the part of the movie where someone gets picked off. It’s so cliché.

That's when you see him.

He’s standing at the end of a corridor, bathed in the red light. The Ghostface mask. Of all the lazy, uninspired choices. It’s not even a monster; it’s a costume of a costume. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

As your friends take a different turn, you find yourself walking toward him. After all, you might as well get your money's worth while you're here. Why would you run away. Let him try to scare you.

He closes the distance between you with an unnerving speed, his stride long and silent. Before you can process it, his hand, covered in a black glove, clamps down on your arm. The grip isn’t theatrical. It’s hard. It hurts.

"Hey," you snap, trying to pull away. "The rules say no touching."

No response. He tightens his grip, his fingers digging into your bicep, and begins to pull. Not toward the main path, but toward a section of the black wall that you now see has a nearly invisible seam.

"Okay, seriously, let go of me. That’s enough." Your voice is louder now, sharper. You can hear your friends’ laughter echoing from around a corner. They’re still close.

He pushes the section of wall. It swings inward on silent hinges, revealing a dark, narrow space beyond. He yanks you toward it. Whatever unease was building in you earlier is quickly getting out of control. This isn't part of the show.

"Let go of me!" you scream, digging your heels in. "Help!"

You hear your friend’s voices in the distance. "Oh my god, she’s so dramatic! She’s finally getting into it!" Laughter follows. They think you’re playing along. They think you’ve finally dropped your jaded act and decided to have fun. The sound of their footsteps and laughter moves even farther away, continuing through the maze.

Leaving you.

The door swings shut behind you, plunging you into near-total darkness. The sounds of the haunted house are muffled, a distant thrum of bass and faint screams. The air in here is different. It’s stale, thick with the smell of sweat and dust.

"Don't be scared," a voice says from behind the mask. It’s distorted, low and menacing. "It's just a game."

He shoves you forward until your chest is pressed against a cold, rough wall. His body pins you there. One of his hands holds both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back with brutal efficiency. His other hand snakes around your waist, his fingers digging into the hem of your jeans.

Tears of terror and rage spring to your eyes. You struggle, bucking against him, but he’s impossibly strong. He’s an anchor of muscle and malice, and you are nothing. "Please, don’t," you sob, the sound pathetic and small in the confined space.

"You should have played along. You should have screamed," he says, his voice conversational, chillingly calm. He works the button of your jeans open. "We like the screamers."

His hand slides into your panties. You gasp, your body going rigid. You’re wet. Not from arousal, from the pure, adrenalized terror that has flooded your system.

He rips your underwear aside, the fabric tearing. He fumbles with his own pants. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying for this to be a nightmare, a very elaborate, very cruel prank. But the feeling of his fingers probing you, stretching you, is undeniably real. The pain is real.

"No, please, stop…"

"Scream."

He shoves into you.

You let out a wail, raw and agonizing. It’s a sound of you didn't know you were capable of making. You can tell he likes that, driving harder, his hips slamming against you, forcing your body into the rough wood of the wall with every brutal thrust. The mask is inches from your face, the vacant black eyes of the costume a void that swallows your terror whole.

"Keep screaming," he grunts, his pace quickening. "No one’s coming to help you. They think you’re having fun."

Your mind fractures. One part of you is screaming, a raw, animal terror that can’t process anything beyond the pain. The other part, the cold, analytical part you’re so proud of, clicks into place with horrifying clarity. This is real. Your arrogance led you here. You walked right to him. You dared him. This is your fault.

"You're better this way. Better than that bored little bitch from before."

You wish you could go back. You’d scream at the fake nurse. You’d play their stupid game, you'd do anything if it meant you weren’t here, pinned and broken in the dark.

His thrusts get more frantic. He's close. You can feel the tension coiling in his body. He grabs you tighter, anchoring himself as he drives into you one last time. You feel a hot, deep gush as he empties himself into you. Then it's over. He's pulling out, leaving you hallowed out and raw from the violation.

"I'll be back later. Rest your voice."

You hear a faint click from behind you as he exits and the door locks behind you. You slide down the wall, your legs giving out, crumpling onto the filthy floor. You're alone in the pitch black. The muffled sound of a chainsaw revving up filtering through the walls, followed by a chorus of delighted, terrified screams. Somewhere, far away, you hear your friend's voices, laughing. They're having the time of their lives, and they're sure you are too.

[longhairvixen]

[chcrrybabyy]

keep thinking about them apologizing as they fuck me rougher than usual. "I know, baby, I know...please forgive me, I needed this." as they rut into me hard and fast. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry please don't ask me to stop...I know I'm sorry." knowing they might not be able to stop themself if I ask. "fuck I know it hurts but you're okay baby...just a little longer." as they put their hand over my mouth so they don't have to listen to my pleas as they take all of their frustration out on me.

[cyberxbattalion]

[l0st-th3-pl0t-deactivated202503]

"Who's my pretty girl?" as she's choking on it and looking up at me

[lezhuntrrr]

gagging is cute because its cute when girls are uncomfortable and struggling through it

[victor7h]

[moonlights-smile]

If you like “railing her in a sundress” season you might also like “railing her in nothing but a sweater” season!

[dark-corner-of-mind]

[blushingxfae]

hugging sex on ur side is so underrated they get to grab your hip and thigh you get to kisss you're boobs look great what's not to like

[jadebabyx-deactivated20250318]

something about casual, nonsexual dominance always get me. make me send you pictures of my outfit every day so you know what i'm wearing. call me a good girl for doing simple things like eating or doing the dishes. make me sit in your lap instead of in a chair. have me ask for permission before i do little things. give me forehead kisses. also force me to take your cock til i cry and all the regular sexual dominance hehe but casual dominance is so underrated!!!!!!