Page 44 of Dark Therapy

Damien smirked, his eyes never leaving me as he prowled around me like a predator circling its prey. Every step he took was calculated, deliberate, sending a chill down my spine. The sound of his boots on the ground was the only noise in the otherwise still night, and I could feel the weight of his gaze following every move I made.

When he stopped behind me, the silence stretched between us, thick andsuffocating. My breath hitched, my heart pounding so loud in my chest I thought he could hear it. Fear mingled with anticipation, asickening, twisted cocktail that left me frozen, unable to move,desperatefor whatever he would do next.

I gasped as Damien yanked my hair, , he brought my face closer to him, his breath warm against my ear, before forcefully pushing my head down towards the cold, unyielding graveyard soil again. The roughness of the ground scraped against my skin, a stark contrast to the intoxicating thrill of his control.

He pulled at my thong, ripping it with one hand.

Thatfucker! It was one of my favorites!

The sudden movement sent a shiver of anticipation through my body. The fabric fell away, leaving my skin exposed and tingling with the thrill of vulnerability.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice low and seductive, as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against my cheek. “That’s the taste offreedom, Millie.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I felt the heat of his presence envelop me.

He chuckled darkly as he pushed himself inside me.

I dug my nails deeply into the soil as I bit my lip hard, suppressing a moan.

“Fuck.” Damien cursed under his breath as my pussy struggled to swallow his thick,deliciouscock. He could probablyfeelthe undeniable hunger radiating from my body.The heat of my desire wrapped around us like a suffocating fog, thick and intoxicating.

“Look at you,” he breathed, voice dark with lust, “so desperate for me. It drives mewild.” Each word dripped with a twistedpleasurethat sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire I couldn’t extinguish.

I hated how much Icravedhim, how my body responded to his every movement as if it had a mind of its own.

I moaned as he slammed himself harder into me. The realization that we were practically sprawled atop a grave sent a jolt of dark exhilaration through me, amplifying the pleasure coursing through my veins. It was a twisted irony that heightened every sensation, making the air around us feel charged and electric. I could feel the rough, cold earth beneath us, a stark reminder of our surroundings that only intensified my body’s response to him.

The weight of ourdepravityhung heavy in the air, and with every thrust, I felt as if I were teetering on the edge of sanity. My breath came in ragged bursts, each inhale mingling with the earthy scent of damp soil, a reminder of the life and deathentwined in this moment. It felt wrong, thrillinglywrong, and the thrill of danger ignited a fire deep within me, burning away any remnants of fear.

If ghosts really exist and hang out in graveyards,I’m sorry! Please don’t haunt me!

As he pressed closer, I could feel his heat radiating against me, a stark contrast to the cold, unforgiving ground. My heart raced, pounding in rhythm with the chaos around us, a wild symphony that matched the intensity of the sound of his body slamming against mine. “Can you feel it, Doctor?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “Thethrillof what we’re doing? It’s intoxicating, isn’t it?”

I nodded before I could stop myself, breathless, the truth of his words wrapping around me like a shroud. The mix ofpleasureandpaincoursed through my body. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to surrender fully to the madness that enveloped us.

“Let me hear you, Millie.” He ordered, his voice hoarse with lust.

I bit at my lips even harder, refusing to give him that satisfaction.

“I said, let me hear you.” He pulled my head away from the ground, making my back arch in the process.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he slammed even harder into me. His throbbing cock filling me in a way I’ve never felt before. The inside walls of my pussy clenched harder around him as I felt myself getting closer to my release, and I couldn’t contain the sounds spilling out of my mouth anymore. I guess at some point I evenmoanedhis name!

I dug my nails into the damp soil as I came, twisting and struggling tofreemyself from his cock. But his hold on me was strong, keeping me glued to him as he slammed into me relentlessly chasing his own release. Iscreamedas I felt his cum filling me, and when he was done, he stood up, watching me as I turned to lay on my back, feeling his cum spilling out of my sensitive hole. He didn’t say anything as he turned around and started walking away from me.

I just lay there, my body frozen and drained of all strength, watching him walk away with half-hooded eyes. His silhouettemelted into the darkness, his presence lingering in the air like a suffocating fog. Every step he took seemed deliberate, like he was savoring the power he held over me.

My mind felt hazy, the adrenaline that had once fueled my body draining away as quickly as it had come. I tried to move, to sit up, to push myself to act in some way—anything—but my body betrayed me. I was nothing but a fragile shell, my limbs too heavy, my thoughts too scattered, my heart too numb to comprehend anything beyond the darkness that surrounded me.

The cold soil beneath me pressed against my skin, grounding me in a way that only reminded me of howinsignificantI had become, how small in comparison to the chaos he had brought into my world. I could feel the weight of the bodies buried in the earth around me, their silent presence somehow echoing my own despair. I wondered if they had felt as hopeless as I did now—trapped in a nightmare they couldn’t escape.

I closed my eyes then, unable to keep them open any longer. The darkness behind my eyelids swallowed me whole, offering no reprieve, no sanctuary. It felt like I was becoming one with the ground beneath me, like the world around me had ceased to exist, like I was as dead as the bodies that lay buried in the soil.

THE DEVIL’S WHISPER

Amelia

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the faint chatter of patrons and the soft clinking of cups. I sat in the corner of the coffee shop, my hands wrapped around a steaming mug, the warmth barely reaching the icy core of my thoughts. Emily’s voice was a distant hum, her words washing over me like a soft tide I couldn’t quite catch. I nodded absentmindedly, a reflex more than a response, as she recounted some amusing anecdote about her latest therapy session.

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