The Basement

Thriller Stories | Nov 20, 2013 | 6 min read
24 Votes, average: 3 out of 5
There is nothing greater in this world than to hear the sweet muffled sound of a scream of terror mixed with violation. Anna made that sound. As she awoke, she felt her arms tied tight behind her back with an extension cord and her ankles tied the same against the legs of the armless chair. An old rag filled her mouth that was covered in duct tape to mute her vain calls for help. It was a basement with no windows. Tools covered a table off to her right, laid out like silverware in a place setting. To her left, a cadaver table, cold, metal, white, and unforgiving. As she screamed through the rag, she thought of every bad thing, every evil she had ever committed, and yet, nothing she had ever done would warrant this. Tears fell from her eyes smearing her mascara she'd put on that morning. She struggled to breathe through her nose and tried her best to remain calm. Maybe this was joke. A really sick and demented joke. But a joke nonetheless. This didn't feel like a joke, though. And if it was, why was no one laughing?
The door creaked open. A large man wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt, jeans, a leather apron, and a forest camouflage hunting mask approached her. Her throat grew hoarse from the shrill sound which he craved. That muted music emanating from her terror aroused him. It made is his body quiver. He leant forward toward her neck. Anna shifted away crying. She heard him take a deep breath of her scent. Oh! The sweat! The tears! He desired to lick her neck and taste the musk that she secreted from every pore. "My sweet," he whispered to her. Anna heard his lips drip as he said it. It was the same sound of dog gnawing on a bone. "I'm going to marry you," he said, "I'm going to make you mine."
Anna looked at him and saw his icy cold blue eyes staring back at her through the holes in the mask. A swift backhand to the face broke her view of him. Her head swiveled on a pedestal. "Don't you fucking look at me, whore. Don't you fucking look!" He grabbed her long blonde hair and pulled it back sharply. Her neck cracked and the flesh on her neck stretched. A tongue protruded from the mask and licked her throat. She felt disgusted and dirty almost to the point of vomiting, but she had to resist because if she did vomit, it would end up in her lungs and she would drown on her own sick.
The man massaged her ample left breast reaching down into her sweater and tweaking the nipple ever so gently. He could feel the weight of size-E dirty pillow under his hand and he began thrusting uncontrollably. Holding her hair back tighter, he kissed the tape that covered her mouth, making love to it. She smelled the garlic and mutton on his breath and saw the yellow of his teeth and tongue. "Now you wait right here," he said and stooped down to her ankles. He unknotted the cord to one ankle. Anna waited. He unwrapped it slowly. Anna watched. He removed the cord. Anna kicked. The ball of her foot landed on the left side of his face sending him to the ground. She kept kicking and he moved away sliding himself on the ground and holding the side of his face. Anger flashed in his eyes. The ogre stood. The animal rushed toward her and she kicked and kneed with everything she had. A powerful fist drove into her gut knocking the wind out of her. She gasped for air through her nose and her body went weak. Anna had never felt pain like this in her whole life. "Don't do that again," he said.
While her body sat limp in the chair, he untied her other ankle. This foot put up less of a fight. He lifted her leg and smelled. He put his lips to it. Anna screamed as his teeth bared into her calf. The warmth of her own blood dripped from the piercing teeth. She thought for a moment that he would take a piece with him, but he didn't. This was foreplay. Something to get her hot, wet, and throbbing. He grabbed the cord that tied her wrists and lifted her off the chair. The gagged sound of, "Wha ah oo goo-ing iss?" came out.
"Because you want me to," he said, "all little whores want me to."
He led her limping over to the long wooden work bench where the tools lay. He slammed her face down on to the bench with her sweet supple young ass up in the air. Anna heard a knife unsheathe. A cool blade entered the back of her yoga pants and she felt them being cut and torn off of her. There was a jerk and her bare dimpled ass was exposed and almost glowed in the florescent light of the basement. The steel moved sideways into her thong. Slice, and it was cut. Now the sweet honey flavored cunt was revealed, but he didn't want that right away. His zipper was pulled down. All Anna could think was, "Oh please, just let me out of this, please…I want the go home."
He teased her asshole with the tip of his cock. The tip began to enter. This was very new for Anna. She didn't know what to expect. He placed both his hands, one holding a knife, on her shoulders with her arms bound behind her back. "Oh, please, God, no…" she thought and he slammed himself inside of her forbidden orifice. Over and over she felt her anus stretching to accommodate the amazing large and round staff that drove deep into her entrails. She could feel skin tearing and blood flowing from her onto his pelvis as drove himself in. The blood enhanced the revolting THWAP-THWAP-THWAP sound of him crashing into her, bare skin to bare skin. Anna could almost bear the pain no longer and tried to fight back. He grabbed a handful of her blonde locks and pulled stretching her neck out. A hunting knife edge graced her neck and stopped at her larynx.

"You're…not…gonna…keep…this sweet…little asshole…from me…are you?!"
The man retrieved himself from inside of her. The knife went away. "It's over," she thought. SLAM! Her face hit the table nearly knocking her unconscious. Her nose crunched and her front teeth were knocked loose. She fell to the floor. In her daze she saw his massive sword and pelvis covered in her blood. "No more," she tried to say, "No more please," but with the rag in her mouth, all that came out was a string of unintelligible vowels.
The man grabbed her by the hair and neck and stood her up. He untied the cord binding her wrists together. She didn't fight back. She couldn't fight back. She was lifted off the ground and hoisted onto the table laid out with tools. The man put his hand on her chest and laid her back onto the wooden table. "Just let him do it, Anna," she thought, "Just let him do it, and he'll let you go." The man guided her hands laying the right on top of the left. Anna felt oddly comforted and even felt restful. She closed her eyes.
Something poked into her palm. VLANG! A spike went through both of her hand pinning them to the table in one swing. She struggled screeching like a wounded pig. VLANG! The spike drove deeper into the wood. He scream was silent and overwhelming. He grabbed two more spikes nailing her feet into the wood, making her one with the table and sprawled in the missionary position. Anna pulled and fought ripping the flesh on her palms and feet. It was unimaginable. He laid on top her violating her, thrusting himself deep inside her. She struggled and screeched as much as she could. Her head flailed side to side and she banged the back of her skull against the table. She felt pain and fear and torment. Her life would never be the same again! She was destroyed as a human being and he knew that! And the mere thought of it made him thrust harder and harder. Feeling her. Feeling that sweet, tight, convulsing cunt. His excitement grew feeling her wriggle and writhe beneath him. And then…then…release. Anna was filled with that demon's seed. As he pulled out, the warm sticky white filth slid out of her and onto the table. He filled her with a piece of him.
"You're my wife now. And you have to do what I say," he said. He put his hunting knife to her neck, pushed down, and slid it across her throat opening her up. "Die," he said. The undeniable salty copper scent entered the air. She felt light headed and the pain began to subside. The world grew darker. Her eyes rolled back. Good-bye.
There is nothing greater in this world than to hear the sweet muffled sound of a scream of terror mixed with violation. Jenny made that sound.

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Richard Schnelzer Dec 4, 2013

Intense! Love your style of writing.

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