Page 10 of Maison De Fous

The spiders continue their relentless crawl over her, their tiny legs moving with a disturbing rhythm. Each bite seems to add a cruel layer to the tableau, enhancing the man’s twisted pleasure. His moans of satisfaction mix with the muffled screams of the bound guests and the soft, eerie whispers of the spiders.

The man leans closer, his voice a dark, almost reverent whisper. “You’re perfect. Even now, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He grips her hair, pulling it back roughly, his gaze locked on the bitch’s masked face, even though it’s vacant and empty.

From the edge of the scene, I watch with a twisted grin, my own pleasure mounting as I see the man’s obsession manifest. I laugh, a low, cruel sound that blends with the chaos around me. The night is alive with depravity and desire, and it thrills me to see how deeply these fantasies can twist and corrupt.

The macabre display only heightens my arousal. Each hungry pleasure filled moan, each dark fantasy played out in such a grotesque tableau, is a testament to the night’s dark, thrilling success. This is the shit I live for—this raw, unfiltered descent into madness and depravity.

And oh, how I savor every moment of it.

“Oh, you poor, sweet little bugs,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper as I stand at the edge of the web, watching the madness unfold. “You have no idea what’s coming next.”

I twirl the mask in my hand, that wicked grin still stretched across my face.

“But don’t worry,” I say, turning back to the writhing bodies and skittering spiders. “You’ll find out soon enough, after all the show has just begun!”

chapter six

indie

Code Mistake - Corpse, Bring Me The Horizon

The night has arrived, and my heart thrums with a heady mix of nervous anticipation and wicked excitement. It’s my debut solo show, a moment I’ve been both longing for and dreading. Tonight, I embrace my role as the dark queen, the mistress of their most depraved fantasies, and I am determined to make it unforgettable.

My section of the tent is a realm of shadows and flickering lantern light, casting eerie, wavering patterns across the scene. The air is thick with the mingling scents of incense, sweat, and a primal edge that electrifies the atmosphere. I stand front and center in my dark domain in the costume I spent far too many nights putting together. Complete with a menacing goat mask, and matching collar, paired with a corset and thigh high boots that cling to my every curve.

It’s a look that commands the submission I am entitled to, a physical embodiment of the power I wield tonight.

“Welcome,peasants, to my realm,” I announce, my voice dripping with dark allure. “Tonight, you will all call me Mistress,for I am your Dark Queen and you will submit to me completely. This ismynight, and I will be the one to bring all of your twisted fantasies to life.”

The crowd, all masked in plain black, kneels before me, their identities hidden but their eagerness palpable. They are here to surrender to their darkest desires, to be used and degraded by me. I can feel their hunger, a collective craving that matches my own thirst for control.

“Tonight,” I continue, letting the weight of my words sink in, “you all will obey my every command. Disobedience will be met with punishment, and believe me, you will relish every moment of it, just as you crave the pleasure.”

My eyes scan the crowd, landing on a pair standing apart, their excitement and anxiety barely concealed behind their mask. I beckon them forward, and they approach with a mix of fear and suspense. They know what’s expected, and their bodies tremble with a blend of apprehension and desire.

“Come closer,” I command, my tone a blend of seduction and authority. “You two will entertain us. I want you to touch and pleasure each other with the fervor of your deepest cravings. Show me how much you yearn to be used little peasants.”

The two women step forward, their costumes simple but striking. One wears a tight, black dress that accentuates her curves with a long thick blonde braid that hangs down her back, while the other dons a sleek, black corset and matching panties with a pink tutu that matches the color of her hair. Both wearing the plain black masks as everyone else who came here tonight to have their desires fulfilled.

As they come together, their initial touches are tentative but quickly grow more passionate. The blonde’s hands trail down the other women’s sides, her fingers grazing her skin before moving to cup her hips. “Fuck, you’re so hot. I want you,” shebreathes, her voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want this.”

The pink haired woman moans softly, her fingers sliding along the blonde’s thighs. “Yes, I want this. Touch me, please,” she gasps.

Their exploration becomes more urgent. The blonde’s fingers slip between the other women’s thighs, her touch teasing and relentless. The pink hair girl moans as the blonde finds the warm, slick heat of her core and begins to caress with increasing intensity. “You’re so fucking wet,” she whispers, her voice a low growl. “I can’t wait to make you come for me, you filthy little slut.”

The pink haired woman responds by sliding her own fingers down to meet her partner’s touch, guiding her movements as she grinds into her. Their bodies move in a fluid, synchronized rhythm. “Don’t stop,” she pants, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Keep going. You feel so fucking good inside me.”

The blonde women’s braid sways with every movement, as she lowers herself to the floor, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and determination as the other women follows her. She slides off her panties, and spreads her legs before guiding the tattooed woman to straddle her, their bodies aligning in a scissoring position. The soft glow of the lanterns casts an otherworldly light on them, creating a vivid display of eroticism and desperation.

Her vibrant pink hair falls around her face like a halo, as she shifts into position with a practiced grace. Her colorful tattoos seem to shimmer as she moves, her short bob bouncing slightly with each movement. She guides her hips forward, pressing her pussy against the blonde’s with a fervent intensity. Their bodies intertwined, as the friction between them creates a palpable heat that fills my tent.

As I watch, I grip Lux’s whip, feeling the familiar leather in my hands. It’s a symbol of his dominance and the exquisite pleasure it can bring. I have felt its sting before, and its presence only heightens the power I feel tonight. The leather feels almost alive in my grasp, an extension of Lux’s own dark desires.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a man in the crowd, their hand moving to touch themselves as they watch the scene before us. My irritation flares, and I snap the whip with a sharp crack. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself, peasant?” I demand, my voice cutting through the heated atmosphere.

The man jerks back, their hand retreating quickly as they avert their gaze in shame. “Keep your hands to yourself before I take them,” I command harshly. “You will find pleasure only through my direction.”

Returning my focus to the women, I say, “I’m bored. Let’s make this more exciting! Let’s play a little game. The first one to make the other come will be the one who gets to live. The other will face their end at the hands of the one who just gave them pleasure.”

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