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"Naughty Boy" By Thomas Stewart


The car stopped. I looked at my phone. According to the GPS, this hotel was the place. I smirked.

I stepped out, casually shoving a small roll of twenties at the cabbie, not even bothering to look at him, while walking up to the revolving door to the hotel lobby. I could see why she chose this place, too. It's huge and gorgeous for one thing. For another thing, I noticed just how alive it was, bustling and teeming with people.

Yes, very populated... How convenient...

I'd of course tried to get her to choose someplace, anyplace, different, but no, it's gotta be here. Oh well, I thought, no matter. I'd still have some fun with her, you know? Even if I couldn't do what I wanted to do, I'd still have my way with her-- pun intended, I guess.

For context, well...

I don't have either time or patience to go over what all I mean with what I'd just said, but let's just say, when it comes to getting rough in the sack, at least with me and where I hang around, I'm known to be a "cut above the rest", and my partners would likely feel something other than aroused by it when I did, usually fear for their fleeting lives (and God did it feel so damn good). I knew there was no way in hell I'd get away with it here, though. Too many damn witnesses.

I waded my way through the crowd. People passed me by with smiles on their faces. I simply nodded back to them, a slack sort of half smile plastered on my face. Fuckin’ peons, don’t even realize what I was there for. My heart was aching by this point. Adrenaline’s a powerful drug, ain’t it?

I got to the desk, where I was greeted by some mousy little bitch in a red pants suit with a cartoonish big red bow in her hair. I can remember thinking Yeah, real fuckin’ classy.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked, stretching that sickeningly sweet smile further across her freckle-covered cheeks. For a moment, I had to really look at her, really see if this chick was faking for “presentation” or some bullshit, or if she really was just that nauseatingly naive. I narrowed my eyes and found the latter to be true.

Usually, if it were the other, there’d be a call sign, you know; like say, their eye twitches or maybe their eyes widen more than they should, straining themselves. Not her, though. No, her smile was the kind you’d expect to see from your grandma that you hadn’t seen since last Thanksgiving or something.

“Um, Room uh…” I quickly ripped my phone from my pocket and opened up the messages between me and this girl. “Room 66 please?” This was when her friendly little smile fell, crumbling almost entirely. For a second, I was almost sure the poor girl was going to break out in tears when, all of a sudden, her smile returned, only this time, it was not sweet and cheeky like it was before. Now, instead of the “Hi, how ya doin’” face, it sent more of the “Are you ready” message.

Excited, I began to follow her down the hallway. One eye concentrated forward while the other slowly found itself looking downward at the receptionist’s swaying ass. What could I say, I’m a man who knows how to appreciate what he sees. She couldn’t see me, of course, though something was telling me she knew, somehow.

Anyway, eventually, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to the door to Room 66. “Here it is, sir.” she said, still with her obnoxiously perky voice while also keeping the more mischievous smile I mentioned earlier. I moved closer to the door and reached out to grab the knob when, out of nowhere, my arm was seized and the next thing I knew, I was being jerked in and thrown into the room. I landed face first onto the bed.

The door to the room slammed shut behind me and when I looked back behind me, about to scream at the receptionist, wondering just what in Hell she was thinking with all of this when I realized she was gone.

“O-Okay uh… What the fuck?! I looked around, only to see absolutely nothing and nobody in the dark room around. That made me cringe all the harder.

“H-Hey! Let me outta here!” The voice this time sounded like an older, younger version of myself, crying .. “Let me out!” My head snapped around, terrified by the voice, the faceless, formless.

“Who’s there?!” I screamed while swinging my head around.

“What? You don’t like me?” I looked back toward the door. I couldn't even see that, the door. Then, from behind me, what feels like a bony hand rested on my shoulder, prompting me to

Swing my head around again. Again, I couldn’t see anything or anyone speaking, though what I could do was feel a wave of warm, increasingly quickly radiating heat beaming from them. Soon, it got so hot that blisters were forming all across his skin.

“Mmm, you feel that, big guy?” asked a smooth, seductive voice. I then watched what looked to me like a series of small conflagurations all begin to spark and fall into form. The hand that was before on my shoulder was now dropping it, nonchalantly rubbing the front of my chest.

I heard another moan, followed by “Oh yeah, baby, I can feel your heart throb for me.” Her hand lowered further. “You got anything else throbbing for me?”

Now, if this were somebody-- anybody else, this’d be fine. Alas. I wasn't gonna let them see what I was there to actually do, not yet anyways. I heard her giggle slyly with her hand rubbing my crotch. “Ooh, you little dog, you.” I could feel her move closer to my ear, still giggling, and remarking, “So you’ve come to give me some fun, huh?”

The hand tightened around me and I winced. Giggling, she asked me, “Oh, was that too rough, Johnny-boy?” My eyes snapped open. How the hell does this bitch know my name?

I was just about to ask this question, too, when she moans in my ear. “That’s right, I know all about you.” Her hand works back up to my chest, bringing my shirt up with it. I wanted to move to make her stop, but for some reason, my arms wouldn’t move. I tried again to look at her out of the corner of my eye, only to immediately get blinded. “Wh-Who are you?!” I cried through clenched teeth.

“Oh, you don’t recognize me?” I felt the force of a moving train hit me square in the chest, knocking me backward onto the bed. The light blinded me again for a second before dissipating. There, faintly, I saw the face of the woman I’d been going back and forth with on Tinder. The woman who was to be my next trophy.

“How about now?” she asked smugly. She held up her phone, showing off her face and profile pic. All of it, from her auburn crewcut to her dark lavender eyeliner, to her strawberry red lipstick and even the small honeyglow blush in her cheeks, it was all a 100% match. “Krazy-Kat_21’, in the flesh, hon.”

I looked at her in both confusion and panic. Her eyes stabbed me straight through both my eyes and, somehow, my chest too. I couldn’t look away, talk, or anything like that. I was a stuck fuckin’ pig! “What’s wrong? Don’t like what you see?” She lowered herself to crawl on top of me. “You’re not going soft on me now, are you?”

She dragged her finger along the length of my chest when she asked this. Beneath her finger, I felt like something under my skin was cooking. I’m not even entirely kidding when I say that because when my eyes managed to look down where her finger was, I could see a long black line forming following her finger. The sting was excruciating, but I couldn’t scream or even squirm. She giggled again when she saw this.

“I wonder… Were you gonna do to me what you’ve done to all these other girls?” She then held up her phone again and began scrolling through a bunch of Tinder profiles, specifically the ones I’d indeed met with before. She held the phone up to my face while she did so.

“Remember her?” she asked, stopping at the profile of “Harley_Rhynn_66”. Her smiling face in her profile pic normally would’ve given me an adrenaline rush (the cutesy ones always did), but now, I couldn’t hold back the wave of nauseating dread I was feeling. My heart hammered against my ribcage and no matter what, I couldn’t get it to stop.

“Oh yeah, I can see it. You had quite a bit of fun with her, didn’t you?” She exited out of Tinder and went to her photos. She scrolled through there until coming onto one of her headline, reading:

“Local Weeping Willow resident found strangled in the middle of the road.”

I looked back up from the phone to her. She was grinning at me. My head started shaking. “P-Please I… th-that wasn’t--”

“Spare me, Johnny.” Her fingernail pierced my chest, causing a small stream of blood to start running from it down my side. It, too, stung, but I still couldn’t do anything. “Like I said, stud, I know all about you.” She then began scrolling through her phone again. “Oh, now here’s one I think you’ll remember quite well. “TerryH._18”.” The phone was shoved in my face again.

“She’d just turned 18, Johnny.” She leaned down to almost touch noses with me. I could feel her icicle stare stabbing deeper and deeper into me. Her mouth opened and her tongue lapped itself out. Actually, I think it would’ve been more accurate to say it slithered out. Even more freakishly, though, her mouth started splitting at the corners, coming apart like a damn trapjaw. “You’re such a naughty boy, aren’t ya?” she asked in a voice that, while in a way seductive, was also distorted. Excess saliva from her tongue dripped down onto my skin, cold and disgusting, making me cringe a bit. Her tongue wormed around on my skin. It’s movement, plus how slimy and pink it was, made me want to throw up right there on the bed.

“Mmm… you taste delicious…” Her hands tore away my shirt then before doing the same to her clothes. “Let’s have some fun!” she exclaimed before rearing back to undo my pants. Once she did that, and my… well… you know, was out, limp still (again, normally would’ve been quite a party for me, but not like this), she touched the tip of her index finger to it, somehow instantly making it stand at attention.

“Oh look at you… I knew this would be fun for you too.” she chided, laughing. I watched then in horror as her head went up and down, the whole time glaring at me with two beady, burning yellow eyes. In those next few seconds, which to me, felt like hours, I could feel my entire body going numb. My vision started blurring.

Her eyes were soon nothing more to me than two large, glowing beads, still boring straight through my body and my soul. More and more, with the harder and harder her head bobbed, my soul separated from my body. It wasn’t painless, either, instead like my entire body was being waxed off itself, slowly, sadistically. Eventually, though, I lost all feeling of my body completely. I was completely detached.

I wasn’t even a person anymore, hell-- I’m not entirely sure I was actually alive anymore. I was staring down at my body. I didn’t have a physical form anymore, or any form I could see at all. I was a ghost. A spirit, maybe, or “essence”, something like that. This is confusing for me too, trust me. Even worse, though, was the fact that I then had to watch this bitch, who, or rather what ever the fuck she was, proceed to shred my body to bits. By the time she and her piranha mouth and claws were done, my body wasn’t even recognizable as even once being a person at all. Above her, I floated, wondering what or how the fuck I ended up like this in the first place.

She looked up to the ceiling, at me, fresh viscera caked all over her fucking mouth. Her glasgow grin somehow widened-- despite the fact that it’d already split itself in half as it was. The bitch even went so far as to lap her serpentine tongue at me, teasing me again.

I floated there, shapeless, formless, technically lifeless, until I suddenly began to feel something burning. It came from down where my crotch was-- or at least, you know, where it used to be. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the pain quickly travel up my groin, past my stomach, through my chest, and all the way up to my head.

Down below on the bed, the demon lady began cackling while twirling around part of my large intestine like it was a lasso. The heat flared once reaching all the way to where my head was and a blinding flash of red overtook my vision. Just before I went dark, I could hear the demon chick cackle again, saying “Hope you like ‘em hot as hell!”

After that, I couldn’t see anything for what felt like forever. I could, however, hear about a thousand people screaming with the popping of flames popping in the background. Before the sound died away, my vision began to come back to me. I wish it hadn’t.

The first thing I saw when it did was fire. Already, too, I could feel it, scorching me inside and out. I didn’t have a body or anything, but I could, I could still feel the flames. Inside the flames, I saw… I-I saw…

Christ, I could see people, charred and barbecued beyond the point of even recognizing them as people anymore. All of them had huge eyes, stitched open and bloodshot. They were the eyes of animals to me, not people. The worst part of it was, though, the part that made me feel sick watching it, despite having no body, was that they were all fucking each other in the flames. Their mouths were wide open in a perpatual scream.

I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. It… It was everywhere! All around me, walls of flames with charred corpses just fornicating like there was no tomorrow! In the far distance, I could see a large black mountain overlooking the mass orgy below. At the peak, there stood a giant red goat man with muscles that’d make Arnold both blush and piss himself, as well as horns that’d skewer anything that came within three feet of him.

He wore a vulpine grin as he jumped down into the pit of fire to join the debauchery. Immediately, I could hear the screams again, this time making my ears ring for hours after. Their cries were those of agony and mourning. Of pain and suffering, mingled with moans that had no pleasure or ecstasy to them, but instead just physical reactions.

I watched all the charred corpses then gather round the devil and swarm him. As they did this, he let out a raucous laughter that actually caused the ground to start shivering in fear. This even drowned out the collection of screams, which by this point had actually escalated far more than any throat should’ve been able to allow.

Suddenly, I noticed I was being pulled down toward the flames. I tried to struggle back up, only to find that I had no power to do so. Further and further down I went until I was finally engulfed in them. Oddly, despite what I and/or anyone would expect, no, I didn’t actually feel the flames. I didn’t even feel like I was getting any hotter.

What I did feel, however, were the millions of hands that began groping me. Everywhere, head to foot, nothing was off limits to these freaks, no matter how much I screamed or fought against them. Imagine getting ganged up on in prison, and then imagine its all a bunch of well done carcasses who each somehow possess the strength of fuckin’ Superman. That’s almost exactly what this was. It didn’t stop there, though, oh no.

It wasn’t long before they began fondling me, stroking me, and well… Y-You know…

Then, soon after, I was forced to bend and… and…

Oh God…

In the interest of keeping what little sanity I still have intact, I’m gonna sum up the rest of this part by saying, over and over again. You can use your imagination to figure the rest out-- and yes, they did it, all of it.

What stuck out to me, though, amid the pain, the humilitation, and the degredation of my soul here, was the laughter. In his most commanding voice, I heard him bellow: “Doesn’t it feel nice to be a naughty boy, Johnny?”

Eventually, I was dragged over to him, where he had his turn with me, and he made sure to take his time with me, too. Again, won’t go into any more details, but take whatever you imagined from a second ago, and then double it. When he was done, I was chucked back into the fire pit for the others to get back to having their ways with me.

I really can’t say how long this went on for. Hours, days, hell, even a lifetime, who the hell knows? What I can say is that eventually, by perhaps the biggest miracle ever, I did manage to actually make it out of this. Well, sort of anyway.

It was while I was on my back, with about three or four of them on me, when I saw this tiny speck of light coming from up above. I didn’t know what it was or what might happen if I tried touching it, fuck, I was halfway convinced it wasn’t even real, just my mind or conscious or whatever psyching me out. Either way, though, it was an opportunity, and you best damn believe I was gonna take it.

I managed to wrestle free of the corpses and sprang up for the light. I made my way upward, shaking away any of the hands that tried grabbing onto my leg. I made it up to the light and…

I woke up. I was in a prison cell, some big dude holding me close to him while he slept. The first thing I tried was shaking him off of me, but his grip was that of a gorilla. When I turned to look at him, though, that’s when I realized what’d happened once I reached the light.

I hadn’t ever truly escaped. I was still there, still in Hell. The only difference was that I was alive again. Living or dead, though, I would still suffer. This was cemented in my brain when, after turning to get a look at him, he was revealed to not be a man at all, but the demon chick from that night in the hotel room. Her cheeks split apart into her freakish grin again and she asked me,

“So, how’d it feel being such a naughty boy?”



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