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Milo shuddered as he shut off the TV, already regretting having watched that movie alone. His friend Issac had been the one to recommend it to him, praising its brilliant plot and amazing costume design as nothing short of stunning. Apparently it wasn’t riddled with jump-scares, a quality that Milo vehemently hated in the genre, but wasn’t so slow paced as to have him falling asleep in his chair.
So despite being terrible at handling any kind of horror film except for the kinds that were so terrible they became funny, Milo had caved and searched up the movie.
He didn't know why he hadn't thought to wait to see if Issac would be up for seeing it again so he would have someone to watch it with him. Or why he had decided to watch it so late at night. Or why he had kept the movie on even when the dark skies that had been looming over all evening finally decided to break and unleash a torrential downpour that pounded on his windows.
But the movie had been as brilliant as Issac had made it out to be. It had one of his favourite tropes of never quite showing the specter until a good way through the movie. Each time it had appeared it would be mostly obscured or out of focus behind the latest victim, building up the tension before making the final reveal. Even being as poor with horror as he was both the addicting storyline and tension kept him rooted to his seat as he watched peeking from behind his fingers.
But all of that didn't matter now.
The sudden drop in temperature from the freezing late February rain combined with and the final shot of the ghost staring out at and what seemed through the camera had goosebumps breaking out all over his skin and a shiver rushing through him.
Almost as soon as he shut off the television the dread set in. Even more so when he caught sight of the clock. Despite watching the movie with the lights on immediately felt that cold, sinking feeling of dread and paranoia prickling over his skin. Especially with how his reflection on the blank television screen almost perfectly mirrored that final shot of the protagonist in the window with the ghost peering in from the distance.
Shuddering once again, Milo quickly ripped his gaze away and got up from the couch, cranking the thermostat up and resigning himself to either a sleepless night or a nightmare riddled sleep.
Ten minutes of lying in bed and Milo was already regretting turning the thermostat up as his stupid panic had him breaking out in a sweat. He had been too stubborn to go to bed with the lights on, refusing to admit that the movie had gotten to him that badly. That, and he was terrified that the storm would knock out the power and kick his fear up to eleven. Now, the bed was the designated safe-zone and he refused to step onto the floor where the ghost could easily grab him from underneath the bed.
Hot and miserable he resigned to shucking off his clothes, flinging them away to the corners of the room that the barely-there glow of his bedside lantern didn’t reach.
‘ Just. Sleep! ’ He mentally chanted to himself, scrunching his eyes further shut. A flash of lightning lit up his room so brightly that he could see it even behind his tightly shut eyes, unleashing a new wave of pinpricks and clammy sweat over his body. Despite the heat he tucked the bedsheet tightly around himself, willing it to shield him from any ghosts lurking in the shadows.
Thankfully, something or someone out there seemed to have pity on him as the insistent pounding of rain on his window melted into a soft, consistent drumming that lulled his brain enough for his eyes to actually grow heavy. The rain also seemed to cut through the suffocating heat of his room as he gradually felt the temperature drop. Milo let out a relieved sigh, feeling his body also sink into the mattress as he felt himself be pulled further into sleep, tension leaving his muscles. He shifted in place to get comfortable and let sleep overtake him.
Milo froze.
Or at least he would have. He couldn’t move.
He tried taking a breath. It moved through him like molasses.
No, no, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening! He had never gotten sleep paralysis and it had to be now ?! Right now ?!
Another flash of lightning tore the sky. His eyes flew open.
Before he could even think to thank everything that he could at least do that much, whatever heat had him soaking through his bedsheet dissipated completely, replaced by ice in his veins. The ghost. The exact ghost he had just seen in the movie was looming over him right next to his bed.
Its mouth lolled open, still slick with blood, barbed tongue extended to a grotesque length and centimeters from his right eye. Above the gaping maw, whatever face it had was melted and morphed beyond any recognizable features. And yet Milo knew that if it had eyes they would be fixed onto him with an eager, hungry expression.
A string of drool fell from its tongue and onto his cheek, shaking him out of his stunned state.
It wouldn’t do any good to scream. He knew that. Between the rain and the thick walls that he was usually grateful for, there was no chance of his neighbours hearing him. He still tried. The most that was able to escape him was a strangled gasp that even he could barely hear.
The tongue suspended above his eye twitched, interest clearly piqued even with its expressionless gaze as it leaned down, seeming to want to get a better look at him with its inexistant eyes.
Would begging help? Certainly not. He couldn’t even if he tried. And yet he did try, another half-broken gasp seeping through his barely parted lips as frantic breaths tried desperately to escape him.
This time the creature paused. Its face tilted ever so slightly as it considered him.
What was it waiting for?!
As soon as the thought crossed his mind the tongue retreated, quick as a whip, and the creature grinned. A horrible, split far too wide grin. Another string of blood-tinged drool fell onto his cheek.
Milo had been holding out hope that his overactive imagination had gotten away from him. That he had just confused the sweat beading across his face for the monster drooling on his face. But as soon as the sharp talon-like nail reached up and ever so slowly hooked onto the bedsheet and pulled it down, exposing him inch by inch, he would have sobbed out of fear if he could.
Stopping when the sheet was pulled down just past his knees, the clawed hand took its time tracing its way back up his body. It grazed over his hipbones in a way that would leave him shivering if he could, further up past his stomach, and trailing over his chest before coming to rest at his neck.
He could barely tear his eyes away from that horrible face, watching in muted horror as its mouth opened, that impossibly long tongue slipping out yet again and making its way towards him. Since opening his eyes Milo had tried desperately to shut them yet again, but of course that part of his body had ceased to pay attention to him as well. Now the entity was going to tear him open and eat him alive while he could only use his final moments to watch.
The tongue hovered just above his heart, bards looking to seek purchase into his skin. But when it finally made contact with him he didn’t feel a searing pain of his heart being driven into. Instead, over the frantic, heavy beating of his heart he felt a slimy, searing heat as it traced over his chest, wrenching a surprised gasp from his throat.
The nails resting on his throat tightened then, enough for him to really feel a stabbing pain bubble to the surface. It wasn’t enough to break skin but enough to douse whatever confusion had passed over him with another wave of fear.
Lazily, it traced its way over his chest, occasionally circling over his nipples, leaving a trail of slick and goosebumps in its wake. Milo couldn’t tell how long it did so, with his vision blurring and obscuring the monster's face enough that the panicked rhythm of his heart slowed somewhat, though he could still hear the rush of blood in his ears. Distantly in his hazy mind, he felt the tongue make its way lower, over his stomach, and the ghost of a shudder passed through him as it grazed feather-light over his hips.
The sensation of the tongue dragging over his clit almost broke him out of his paralyzed state, the sudden touch lighting up his nerves. Milo’s mouth opened just enough for a punched out moan to escape him.
Again, the creature gave that horrible smile that he could see even with his blurry vision. Though this time its tongue didn’t retreat. Instead it continued to swirl around his clit and dragged more half-muffled sounds from him. His stomach flipped and the cold chill of fear had been thoroughly replaced by heat flushing throughout his body.
The lingering remnants of fear didn’t dissipate, but were instead ignored for anger. Milo didn’t want the beast to kill him. But if it was going to then it could get around to doing it instead of toying with him!
Slipping past his clit, it continued its exploration through his slick folds, extremely flexible as it curled and weaved in a way that would have had him arching his back pathetically if he could and thoroughly derailing his train of thought. Higher up, the top half of its tongue continued to grind itself against his clit while the tip played with his cunt, occasionally teasing its way inside before dipping out again.
Milo shot what he hoped was a withering glare at the creature, now thoroughly trying to stop any more broken moans from escaping him, even as he felt the heat within him building. It was easier said than done when he couldn’t even move his mouth or bite it shut.
Infuriatingly, the expressionless face almost seemed smug.
All at once the tongue pushed inside him with an embarrassing squelch. He barely had time to dwell on the sound as the tongue began to move inside him.
Higher up it switched from grinding against his clit to wrapping around it in a way that almost seemed to stroke it. The bards he had previously seen weren’t sharp, despite appearances, and instead curled around him with a friction that threatened to drive him insane.
It fucked deep into him, writhing against his walls as it squeezed his clit. Milo could feel it withdrawing before quickly punching into him again and again and again—
He burst against its tongue with a high, needy whine. He hated the way its smile impossibly widened at that, how pleased he could tell it was.
Blinking spots and tears from his eyes he faintly felt the tongue retreat as he struggled to catch his breath. The heavy pressure on his chest didn’t leave, the exhaustion creeping over him only amplifying it as he fought to take deep breath after deep breath.
The nails pressed against his throat also retreated. Was that all it had wanted? Had it decided to exchange killing him for molesting him in some kind of fucked up deal? He could live with that. In the morning it would seem like a nightmare anyway.
Of course, that was if he remembered any of it. His breath came to him easier.
Hands grasped his ankles, dragging him to the end of the bed. His legs dangled like dead weight. They didn’t remain that way for long as the ghost gripped his calves and pushed them up towards his shoulders, nearly bending him in half. In that position, its face was inches from his, its mouth full of needle-like teeth split open in its horrible grin, thin lines of drool landing on his cheeks.
Even as tears of fear and frustration sprang back to his eyes, Milo still couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away from that horrible, mangled face. What did it want?! For him to beg again?! Last time he tried it had— What said that it wouldn’t just kill him anyway?!
Milo couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream profanities at it the way he so desperately wished to. Instead he stared it down and hoped that even in his sweaty, disheveled state, it could tell how much he despised it. Even with the heavy, distant feel of his body he could feel the hands holding up his calves tighten, nails biting into the skin.
The tongue slipped out of its mouth again and Milo flinched. Rather than slip back down to further toy with his cunt it dragged down his cheek and across the side of his neck, The phantom sensation of a shiver followed its movement. The ghost drank the response up.
It shifted a bit in a way that Milo didn’t understand until he felt something hot and heavy pressing against his hole.
He was all at once acutely aware of how exposed the position made him.
Like a dam breaking, pleas began to flood from his mouth. Whatever had been keeping his body out of his control releasing its hold. “Stop! Stop please it won’t—! You can’t—! It won’t fit!” It hadn’t even entered him yet but he could feel how wide it threatened to stretch him by the blunt heat of what kept pressing against him.
Milo thrashed in its hold but it only tightened its grip. Even when he pushed against its chest it wouldn’t move an inch. Beating his fists against his chest yielded the same result. It was like hitting a brick wall.
He shook his head, babbling widely. “You can fuck me with your tongue again! I can use my mouth! Anything! Just please—!”
In a fluid thrust it split him open.
He wailed. If its tongue hadn’t left him open and dripping he was certain that something would have torn. He didn’t even want to look down and see how much it was stretching him, just feeling it told him it was bigger than anything that had ever been inside him. The heat of it was in such a sharp contrast to the dead cold of its body that it seemed to radiate from inside him like a furnace.
For the longest moment it didn’t move as Milo shuddered beneath it, his breath coming out in pants and stifled moans. The nails sunk further into his calves and Milo couldn’t help but clench around it as he winced, feeling blood well up faintly from the wounds.
This time it was the creature that shuddered. The first reaction that it had given that wasn’t a twisted smile. It pulled out slowly until it was nearly entirely out of him with a slick sound that left Milo mortified. It fucked back into him as suddenly as it had a first time pulling a sharp gasp from him that ended in a needy whine. He could feel himself gush around it.
It pulled out once more and pushed in again. And again. And again. Each time filling him so deeply that it made him see stars.
Milo didn’t even think about hoping for the creature to be gentle. He had abandoned even the idea of that even before it had pushed into him.
And yet he still begged, “Slow–! Please— fuck — please do it slow!”
As expected, it didn’t. It set a brutal pace that left his head spinning and his cunt throbbing with both need and abuse. Just above the mess of gasps and moans spilling from him the harsh and fast slap of skin against skin could be heard.
Most infuriatingly, as Milo continued to unravel, the specter didn’t seem affected in the slightest. If not for its self-satisfied smile as it used him he would have almost thought it to be bored.
Meanwhile Milo couldn’t mistake the slick running down his thighs as just being residue from the creature's tongue. He couldn’t write off the whines and moans and gasps that echoed off the walls as terrified whimpers.
It proved to be too much for him, between his previous orgasm and the way the creature continued to rapidly fuck into him, Milo felt his eyelids grow heavy as his vision began to blur, the strength sapped from his limbs.
Judging by the way the monster's grip on him tightened, it was not a fan of that.
Its tongue jammed itself down his throat. Milo’s eyes flew back open as he choked around it. Just as it had done with his cunt, it didn’t waste any time before it began to curl and explore. Except this time it thrust into his mouth with a rhythm that matched how it was fucking into him.
Milo whimpered around the intrusion, shivering. His hands that had been pushing weakly against its chest dug into it as he searched for something— anything— to hold onto at the brutal treatment. The ghoul didn’t even seem to notice.
Somehow, probably with whatever weird ability it had to freeze him in place, it seemed to know just when he was moments from passing out and insisted of tongue-fucking him to the brink of that before allowing him to gasp in some desperately needed air. His head swam with the sensation of fighting for air and the rush of it entering him again and again and again. Not to mention the way it kept thrusting into him below as well, making him drool even more around the intrusion.
It was too much. It was too much but it refused to let him slip into unconsciousness. Instead, Milo’s head swam with a different hazy feeling from before. One that drew him away from his body while amplifying everything at the same time.
He drifted higher and higher on that rush until it hit its peak and his eyes rolled back into his head with an overwhelmed moan as he came around the ghost.
If it were even possible the creature sped up even faster, enticed by the way Milo clenched around it.
Milo’s eyes fluttered, beyond exhaustion. If he had to withstand anything more he felt he would unravel at the seams.
Finally, finally , the ghost stopped its movements and jammed inside him as deep as it could reach before it began to burst inside him. Milo was humiliated to know that if he hadn’t been so tired that would have made him cum again.
Slowly, deliberately, it moved and pulled out a fraction just to push in again. And again. Taking its time to push the warm fluid further into him even as it spilled out around it and further soaked Milo’s bedsheets.
He was terrified and horribly thrilled that it meant to fuck him again.
Eventually, both creature and its tongue pulled out of him, twin lines of drool and cum linking him to it for a moment before breaking.
Milo sighed a breath of exhausted relief. A puff of air hit the still drying tear stains on his face.
Daring to open his eyes he saw its face still close to his with a smile fixed upon it. This one however, while still split wide, seemed more…amused in comparison to its earlier sadistical mania.
He would have matched it had sleep not overtaken him.
Sunlight filtered in through the blinds of his window. Milo groaned and lifted the blanket over his head in an attempt to block out the light in order to fall back asleep. He nearly succeeded before the events of the night before hit him all at once.
Inhaling sharply, he shot up in bed, immediately feeling his body to be sore and protesting loudly at the sudden movement. Rapidly blinking the sleep from his eyes he looked down at himself. His brows furrowed in confusion.
He looked…clean. He was certainly naked like he remembered being but aside from that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Running a hand down his chest proved that his eyes were not deceiving him. He didn’t even feel sticky like he would have expected to. Feeling around and under him revealed that the bedsheets were also dry and clean.
Could he have just slept wrong? Had he been too stiff before falling asleep and that was what was causing him to be so sore? That certainly sounded far more plausible than whatever he thought he remembered happening. Milo flushed deeply. Just recalling its face made him break out in goosebumps. As well as cause for his blood to go cold while simultaneously rushing south.
Milo’s stomach growled abruptly and he agreed that he was too hungry and it was far too early for him to worry about whatever fucked up dream he had had the night before. He swung his legs out of bed and went to make his way to the kitchen.
Or at least that was his goal before his legs gave out on him. A dozen aches and pains made themselves known, especially from the waist down and particularly coming from his legs, which felt as if he had been running a marathon while he had been asleep.
Looking down at them Milo’s eyes circled in on the main causes, an unnamed shiver coursing through him.
Both of his calves sported a set of five puncture wounds.