Evil Fantasies (Part I)

The night veiled by the tender rain, the pit turned rather muddy, cold breeze pierces the skin of the spectators as their veins pump burning, raging blood. They all restlessly await what is about to happen. The gloomy, ominous atmosphere slowly continues to turn those burning souls yet more sadistic with its voodoo whilst the sound of the rain harmonizes with the wind and fills the air, and the mist does its enchanting dance.

She then comes through the mist, and gets into the muddy pit, where she knows she belongs. She has only a translucent veil covering her nude body, rain drops softly caressing her skin, as envious eyes stare at every subtle detail on the Venus. She is about to get muddy, and soon enough, bloody.

The slightly visible scars on her breasts show that she is no stranger to pain, dark vices of the insane. Her mind, it is darker than the darkest of nights, her heart in love with the obscene. But her innocent eyes of a deer disguise her twisted mind, making her the perfect victim, the master, of burning souls. After all, she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

She kneels in the mud as a good slave waiting for her master would do, and glances at every pair of eyes that is burning with lust, she knows they are the corridors right into their souls; except hers, and she knows what every soul there is aching for. She cannot hide her delicate smile as she sees them right through. The smile is for a reason, but the viewers do not know.

He then comes, with whips and shackles in his hands. As her, he too gets into the pit, nude, whilst the mist and rain hopelessly attempt to hide his nudity. His cock is thick and long, in readiness to tear her apart. He thinks as he looks at her, she shall have all what pleases her, and more, in this unholy night.

She looks him in the eye before she looks at his cock; her lascivious eyes know neither shame nor fear. She knows the night never disappoints her, her cunt wet as October, her sacred fluids running down her thighs, blending with the mud and water, at the thought of the merciless, vulgar, animalistic pleasure that she is about to live.

She will take a good look at all the guests once more before she is blindfolded, for then she can paint her fantasy with the fire in the eyes of those men who'd kill to get the chance to ravage her, for then, while he thinks that she thinks of him, her imagination can run wild with a thousand men. And it is her little secret, hers alone, only for her to know. After all, she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

He takes a moment and gazes at the muddy Venus with a certain hunger in his eyes. He gazes at her slightly shivering, shaking body that aches for a man's touch, her soft melon breasts that move to the rhythm of her slightly heavy breathing, her erect nipples that have become so hard because of the cold and lust, her veins on her neck and on her temples that pop out because of the excitement and the blood rush to her head, her lips that tremble as she exhales and the rain drops that run down her rather firm thighs blending with her juices. It is time.

He slowly reaches her from behind, she must be prepared for the feast. He first ties her eyes; no more light in her world. It heightens the sensation of every single nerve ending under her skin and gives her imagination infinite freedom to run wild. He then puts the ball gag in her mouth, as she obeys without the slightest hesitation. No more screams allowed, all the pain, all the pleasure, all the raging emotions, all the burning lust trapped under her skin only to explode in her mind until he has used and abused her.



He proceeds to cuff her hands, her legs, then chains her to a steel pole by her neck. They are her favorite jewels for a night like this. They adorn her. They keep her in her place. They let her know she has a master and that she has no control.

She is a slave to this feeling of absolute helplessness, as it allows her to reach heights of overflowing pleasure that she would otherwise not let herself go. She yearns to be controlled, to be teased, to be pleased, to be pained, to be pleasured, to be ravaged, to be raped. She longs for her wildest fantasies to come true. And above all, she yearns the release and the freedom she finds in her cuffs and chains.

She is finally ready, to be the bride of his twisted dreams, to live her own secret fantasies, what she yearns for, what she longs for, for she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

V.