Dead Woman Walking:

“If you spend your time chasing butterflies, They will fly away. But if you spend your time making a beautiful garden, the butterflies will come to you. And if they don’t, then you still have a beautiful garden.” Guywithavoice on tiktok. This is a dark romance where the three guys are very morally gray. They do not try to be heroes in any way. Some consensual kinks are cnc, mask, power play, pain play, knife handle fucking/knife play, blood play, puke from deepthroating, bdsm, spanking, and slapping. The men all have consent to free play, even if it doesn’t look like it in the beginning. Some triggers are slight mentions of ED, on and off scenes of sexual assualt, near rape, flashbacks of trauma, on scene killing, sex near a dead body, drug use, mention of self harm and scars, and mentions of attempted suicide. 1 Art Masks? Out of all the childish things to see on the way home from school, a guy in a Friday the Thirteenth mask wasn’t one I thought I’d see. His large, broad body takes up most of the only pathway between the trees. I cease my movement at a good distance away as I wait for him to move. Though I can’t see his eyes, I know he’s looking right at me. We stare at each other for a moment, and it feels like a game of chicken that I hope I will win. “Fuck it. Momma didn’t raise a bitch,” I remind myself. How many times in my life do I have to repeat that to myself before I finally believe it? My boots crunch over the deep branches and leaves as I move closer towards the tall man in my way. My eyes scan over him, trying to determine if I can get around him. He’s in a denim jacket with a black hoodie under it, blue jeans, and combat boots. A perfect outfit to kill me. His hands are covered with gloves, which would have been fine. If it wasn’t summer. Everyone told me not to go this way, but I was exhausted and just wanted to get where I was going. The only thing in my way was Jason. He shifts his gloved hands, revealing a machete. Fear rushes down my spine as I freeze. “Momma raised a bitch,” I quickly mutter to myself, turning around. Another guy is behind me from where I came from. Unlike his friend, he has a devil’s red Ghostface mask from Scream. He tilts his slender face to the side, stalking toward me. He towers over me in height, wearing clothing similar to his friend, Jason. “Don’t come any further!” My hands go up as if I could stop him with my brain. But he doesn’t listen, pulling a pocketknife out. I yelp, trying to step back, but enormous hands wrap around my mouth and body, pulling me against a wide, tall body. A sob of fear breaks from me as I look up at my captor. It isn’t Jason as I thought it would be. Instead, it’s a tall man in a Brahms Heelshire mask from The Boy. What is this? Halloween? Ghostface’s hand reaches out for me, and I freeze as his thumb pushes a tear from my cheek. I’m crying? Fear has left me in a state of shock, unable to stop shaking. Three large men surround me, all seemingly with a weapon. I feel… weak. Powerless. My body shudders as Jason pushes the tip of his machete up my thigh, lifting my leather skirt. The metal scrapes my skin. It’s cold and ready for a warm body to be buried in. Is he going to kill me? Instead, Jason ducks his head, trying to catch a look under my skirt. Impulsively, I kick out, almost hitting his face. Chuckling, he jumps back, looking up at me with almost black eyes. Brahms’ chest rumbles against my back as he chuckles deeply. Ghostface leans in, cupping my cheek. Who are these fuckers? Ghostface slaps me hard, making my head jerk to the side. Heat rushes down my spine, my cheek stinging from the heat. His hand reaches under my skirt, while Brahms’ hand runs under my breasts before cupping it. I can feel his long hard cock against my back, sending heat to my core. Should I be reacting like this? Ghostface’s boots kick my legs apart as his fingers run over my clit through my underwear. My eyes widen, and my breath catches in my throat. He is the only one without gloves, and this is what he wants to do with me? Leave evidence on me? I swallow, warm tears stinging my eyes. His thumb brushes my clit, and my body reacts, shuddering. “Please stop,” I beg, the words muffled against Brahms’ hand. Ghostface stops, dark brown eyes running over my face. But then he pushes a finger into my pussy, soaking them further. My mouth parts as my eyes widen. What is he doing? His finger leaves me as quickly as it entered me. But then his hand bunches against the underwear and pulls hard. The sound of the seams ripping fills my ears. I struggle against Brahms as the cold air hits my pussy. Ghostface lifts the black lace underwear and holds it in front of my face. I can see the wet white spot on the ripped pieces of the crotch. He pockets it before stepping away. Jason’s face replaces Ghostface’s, and he reaches up, wrapping his fingers around my throat. A gasp tries to escape my throat, but it is stopped by the tightening of his fingers. My eyes widen at the lack of air getting into my lungs. Maybe they like fucking corpses. Jason leans in, the coldness of his mask touching my face as he drags it up to my jaw. Brahms chuckles at how much my body is quaking. His hands run over my sternum, over my wide hips before grabbing a