A lawless world where humans are corrupted by horny monsters and demons. I used to write on Tumblr and I decided to start putting some of my stories on BDSMLR now that this place is turning into more of a horny community. This is an erotic horror universe so if you don't like monster sex, demonic corruption, and sexual torment this is probably not the place for you. If you're into that, though, welcome - feel free to pop up for a chat if you have any questions?
In the Safe-Zone, magic is seen as corrupting and deplorable, and any use of magic whatsoever is strictly forbidden. Predictably, this makes certain tasks quite difficult, such as exorcism. It’s true that the Safe-Zone’s barrier dampens demonic activity and therefore occurrences of hauntings and possessions are rare, but they are not unheard of.
When they do occur, it’s up to Paranormal Control Officers, colloquially known as ghost hunters, to put a stop to it. But it’s a dangerous job without the protection of magic, and the hunters are forced to rely on highly temperamental and complicated machinery to capture and seal away the ghost. That’s why the job is usually left for ex-convicts and homeless men, who are cruelly seen as no great loss to the nation.
It’s only natural that machinery would fail, after all, especially when ghosts and demons are involved. That’s what this ex-con had just learned when he was sent out to an abandoned high school to rid the place of some ghosts of the students who had died there years ago when a group of Safe-Zone super soldiers went berserk and raped their way through the campus, choking many students dead on their fat, horse-sized cocks.
He was part of a team of five – each of them having split up and went into different parts of the school. They were looking for twenty-two ghosts in total, but since they arrived, they hadn’t been able to pin any of them down. They heard laughs, footsteps and lockers slamming but they needed a clear visual if they wanted to trap them – a missed shot would be a death sentence as the capture tool took 20 seconds to recharge.
But this was the ex-con’s first mission and he was jittery. As soon as he heard a locker slam behind him, he turned and shot his capture blast straight at the wall. Before he could even reach for another capsule, he was lifted up and thrown against the wall, knocking the wind out of him and sending his weapon sliding across the floor. Suddenly his overalls were unzipped and opened. When he got them, there were some worrying stains on the crotch which had led him to believe that they were taken off the last person to die on the mission and weren’t even washed first, and now it looks like he’ll be adding his own splatter to the stain.
His hands were held down by an invisible force and his cock was fished out of his uniform. The cold, invisible hand molested his fat hog and balls, sweaty with nerves, coaxing it to hardness, much to the man’s embarrassment. He had heard from one of the senior hunters that ghosts needed to milk out loads so it could make them stronger, and eventually give them the strength to interact with the mortal world all the time.
He watched, horrified but fascinated, as his foreskin moved backwards and forwards over his pink cockhead, pre-cum start to bread at his piss-lips. The ghosts’ hands were skilled, teasing his nipples and massaging his balls. There were far too many to just be one and soon the man was overwhelmed. With the last of his focus, he tried to pick up his communicator to warn his comrades, but it was pulled out of his ear and thrown away. He had no idea that nearly all of his team had already been caught in different parts of the school.
The ghosts could sense that he was getting closer, jerking him off more vigorously and tugging harder on his sensitive nips. One of the hands had even slipped past his furry, sweaty taint and was rubbing his hairy asshole, ready to penetrate him and wreak havoc on his prostate. All hope lost, the hunter resorted to begging for his life: “Please, just let me go! Don’t- AH!!!”
The finger slipped into his hole, curling upwards and rubbing his prostate. It was useless holding back. The man roared and bucked his hips as much as he could under the inhuman strength of an uncountable amount of ghostly teenage hands. He doused his uniform with warm, swampy jizz, making a mass for the next unlucky bastard who was made to wear it.
The ghosts weren’t interested in his cum, letting it stain on the clothes, they were feeding on his sexual energy radiating out from him, and they wanted more. They didn’t stop stroking his cock for a moment, maintaining a steady pace as his groans of pleasure turned into shrieks of desperation, his uncut cock being milked far past his limits. The higher-ups monitoring the men’s vitals note down what they were experiencing, taking about the number and nature of the ghosts in the school. They had never believed that the newbies would be able to exorcise the school on their first mission – they just had an influx of ex-cons recently and needed to free up some uniforms for the experienced hunters.
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In the Safe-Zone, magic is seen as corrupting and deplorable, and any use of magic whatsoever is strictly forbidden. Predictably, this makes certain tasks quite difficult, such as exorcism. It’s true that the Safe-Zone’s barrier dampens demonic activity and therefore occurrences of hauntings and possessions are rare, but they are not unheard of.
When they do occur, it’s up to Paranormal Control Officers, colloquially known as ghost hunters, to put a stop to it. But it’s a dangerous job without the protection of magic, and the hunters are forced to rely on highly temperamental and complicated machinery to capture and seal away the ghost. That’s why the job is usually left for ex-convicts and homeless men, who are cruelly seen as no great loss to the nation.
It’s only natural that machinery would fail, after all, especially when ghosts and demons are involved. That’s what this ex-con had just learned when he was sent out to an abandoned high school to rid the place of some ghosts of the students who had died there years ago when a group of Safe-Zone super soldiers went berserk and raped their way through the campus, choking many students dead on their fat, horse-sized cocks.
He was part of a team of five – each of them having split up and went into different parts of the school. They were looking for twenty-two ghosts in total, but since they arrived, they hadn’t been able to pin any of them down. They heard laughs, footsteps and lockers slamming but they needed a clear visual if they wanted to trap them – a missed shot would be a death sentence as the capture tool took 20 seconds to recharge.
But this was the ex-con’s first mission and he was jittery. As soon as he heard a locker slam behind him, he turned and shot his capture blast straight at the wall. Before he could even reach for another capsule, he was lifted up and thrown against the wall, knocking the wind out of him and sending his weapon sliding across the floor. Suddenly his overalls were unzipped and opened. When he got them, there were some worrying stains on the crotch which had led him to believe that they were taken off the last person to die on the mission and weren’t even washed first, and now it looks like he’ll be adding his own splatter to the stain.
His hands were held down by an invisible force and his cock was fished out of his uniform. The cold, invisible hand molested his fat hog and balls, sweaty with nerves, coaxing it to hardness, much to the man’s embarrassment. He had heard from one of the senior hunters that ghosts needed to milk out loads so it could make them stronger, and eventually give them the strength to interact with the mortal world all the time.
He watched, horrified but fascinated, as his foreskin moved backwards and forwards over his pink cockhead, pre-cum start to bread at his piss-lips. The ghosts’ hands were skilled, teasing his nipples and massaging his balls. There were far too many to just be one and soon the man was overwhelmed. With the last of his focus, he tried to pick up his communicator to warn his comrades, but it was pulled out of his ear and thrown away. He had no idea that nearly all of his team had already been caught in different parts of the school.
The ghosts could sense that he was getting closer, jerking him off more vigorously and tugging harder on his sensitive nips. One of the hands had even slipped past his furry, sweaty taint and was rubbing his hairy asshole, ready to penetrate him and wreak havoc on his prostate. All hope lost, the hunter resorted to begging for his life: “Please, just let me go! Don’t- AH!!!”
The finger slipped into his hole, curling upwards and rubbing his prostate. It was useless holding back. The man roared and bucked his hips as much as he could under the inhuman strength of an uncountable amount of ghostly teenage hands. He doused his uniform with warm, swampy jizz, making a mass for the next unlucky bastard who was made to wear it.
The ghosts weren’t interested in his cum, letting it stain on the clothes, they were feeding on his sexual energy radiating out from him, and they wanted more. They didn’t stop stroking his cock for a moment, maintaining a steady pace as his groans of pleasure turned into shrieks of desperation, his uncut cock being milked far past his limits. The higher-ups monitoring the men’s vitals note down what they were experiencing, taking about the number and nature of the ghosts in the school. They had never believed that the newbies would be able to exorcise the school on their first mission – they just had an influx of ex-cons recently and needed to free up some uniforms for the experienced hunters.