Hollow Pleasure Ch. 14

*** Disclaimer ***

The following installment contains themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, rough sex, exhibitionism, gangbangs, paranormal, monsters, fisting, humiliation, anal, and extreme insertions. This one is a bit extreme and is not for the faint of heart. You've been warned.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Hollow Pleasure chapter 14

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Chris Berger drove to the Connelly mansion in complete silence. He doubted he would have even heard the radio, had it been on. He was mentally preparing himself for whatever nightmare he was about to walk into.

Silent. They had fallen silent. Galloway wasn't answering her phone. And after Quinn's tumble down the stairs, Chris was beginning to fear that not only was Rob willing to use his powers for his own perverted pleasures, but he was willing to go as far as attempted murder.

That was a recipe for disaster. Galloway had just the kind of bold personality that she would confront Rob. Wild animals were the most dangerous when cornered. And if Rob got cornered, what would happen?

You fall silent, that's what happened.

Chris swallowed. What he was about to walk into would be worse than anything he could have imagined...

***

BASEMENT

Robert Bradford had turned the basement into a den of complete debauchery. The air was thick with sweat and lust. The room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, of moans, of curses, and cries of pleasure.

Lined up in a neat little row, like chickens in a coop, his captives were having the time of their lives, mindlessly fucking themselves into a stupor. The things they had done... the things they were still doing... the things they were going to do...

Lucy, the red headed college girl with the enormous tits was pressing those plump pale melons against the wire dividing wall. In the next cage, the two soldiers York and Alvarado were lapping hungrily at her nipples, like suckling animals. Captain Graver was behind Lucy, his hands on hers, spread eagle against the wall, and pounding her from behind. His face was a sheen of sweat.

Halley Hargrove, the team leader, was in the throws of her own gang bang. She was straddling her computer technician, Alex, riding the young man feverishly. The ventriloquist doll that Rob had brought to life was behind her shapely ass, his hands on her hips. The little nightmare doll was fucking Halley's tight ass... well... not so tight any longer. He was tugging her hair, slapping her ass, and belting out insults that were lost to the chorus of moans and grunts that echoed throughout the room.

One cell over, Ethan was laying on the floor in exhaustion. His mother was spooned up beside him. One of her smooth thick thighs was draped over his leg, and she was nuzzling his cock with her knee. She and her son were kissing softly and passionately as her busy hands fondled and stroked him.

Danni was on her hands and knees, like a dog, as the beastly concoction that only slightly resembled a roided-up version of her brother, fucked her ceaselessly. She was throwing her head back and howling as she put her whole body back into his thrusts again and again.

And at the far end, Tina was hard at work, on her back and alternating handles of various tools in and out of her pussy and ass at the same time. The girl had no control of herself. She plunged objects deeper and deeper into herself.

As they went on and on, Rob had spread out a blanket on the dirt floor. He needed a break after he and Galloway had gone at it like bunnies. Now they were catching their breath on the floor. His arm was around her and she was resting her sexed-up head on his chest. She really was a good-looking woman. And once he was able to program the hatred from those ice-blue eyes, he decided he wanted to keep her for himself. He, Kelsey, and Galloway. How fun.

He was petting her softly, stroking the waves in her wild maroon hair. It was matted with sweat. His cock was limp in his lap, stuck to himself with dried cum.

"So... you going to tell me about those dreams you've been having?" Rob asked, as though they were in their own bubble, oblivious to the raucous fucking happening all around them. Since Rob had discovered this power, he had been taking a subtle approach to Galloway— feeding her images in her sleep. Most of it was vague, because he didn't have much of an idea of her dreams or memories. He had simply suggested that Galloway have nightmares about bad men. But each criminal that she had dreamt, instead of being afraid of, she would grow ever increasingly aroused by. The effect had worked— as apparent by the group of burglars that she'd willingly thrown herself in the middle of. But that didn't change the fact that Rob was curious as to what she had actually dreamed up each night.

Galloway was silent for a bit, and Rob was beginning to fear that maybe his mind control had worn off, or he needed to do a bit more coaxing. He was reaching for his keyboard beside them when she began with "I was shot once."

He glanced up, a little caught off guard.

She gestured to her bare shoulder. The tattoo sleeve carefully concealed a small round scar on her shoulder. "The casino I worked at years ago was being robbed. One of my coworkers, a fellow security guard, had sold us out to a group of ex-cons, and the four of them robbed the place. It didn't go well. The cops showed up sooner than expected and in order to escape, the robbers decided to create as much chaos as possible— shooting, throwing molotovs, burning the place to the ground. Me and Quinn barely got out, and not before I was shot."

She paused. "Lately I've had dreams that I'm back in there. The gaming floor is on fire. And the four robbers surround me. They grab me and throw me onto a blackjack table and start to strip me right there in front of everyone— my coworkers, frightened customers, my buddies. They're going to take me... but the fucked up part is I want it. I want it badly. And I willingly fuck them all. I let them violate me. I go out of my way to please them. The thought of turning my back on my ideals and everything I believe..."

Galloway trailed off, but the discussion was turning her on. Rob could tell because as she lay with her legs draped across his lap, he could feel the warm wetness forming against his thigh. His own cock was beginning to stiffen as she described the gangbang in filthy detail.

"Eventually," she said, "they aren't even men anymore. They're demons. They have horns and dark red skin and forked tongues. But I don't care. I just keep right on fucking them. And I never want it to end. The sucky part is that every time I'm in the throws of these dreams, desperately needing the release, I wake up sexually frustrated. There have been mornings where I've been late for training, because I've been fucking myself with my baton."

Rob's cock was so hard now, that it was aching. He sat up and reached for his keyboard. "Tonight," he smiled. "Tonight, all your dreams come true." He began to type.

***

When Kate Galloway opened her eyes, she was in a familiar place. It was a place that she had visited often in her dreams. But this was no dream. It was far more real than any dream had been so far.

She was standing among the slot machines, leaning against the outer wall of the karaoke bar, as she often did on slow nights. She would sometimes come here with Quinn. The bar was empty, and there was a scattering of gamblers seated at the slot machines. It must be well into the night shift.

The air smelled faintly of cigarettes— definitely not a dream or a vivid memory— and the room rang with the continuous maniacal sounds of electronic bells and jingles being belted out from literally thousands of slot machines.

When Galloway glanced down at herself, she saw that she was in her old uniform. Bright blue polyester, with a shiny silver badge pinned to the swell of her breast, a name plate on the opposite breast (wonder what you call the other one, that asshole Gomez had once joked). Her radio was clipped to her shoulder, and her duty belt was heavy with pouches, and jingled when she moved. Her pants were jet black, and her boots were laced tightly. Her wavy dyed hair was tied back in a loose ponytail.

Every detail was as she remembered it. Was this normal? Like a dream where she was back in school having forgotten to study for a test, this both felt normal and like she shouldn't be here... hadn't been for a long time.

Galloway strolled slowly through the maze of slot machines. She reached for her radio, about to call out to Quinn when it happened. She heard the explosions— the violent rumble of the sturdy cashier cage doors being blown from their hinges. It was followed by the surprised screams of customers. Smoke began to pour into the room. Time slowed to a crawl.

Somewhere in the confusion and the haze, Galloway began to hear gunshots. Lots of them. And through the smoke came their shadows. There were four of them, dressed in black (with the exception of Jones— he was still in his security uniform). They had pulled ski masks over their faces, donned vests, and were carrying guns.

Galloway felt a chill roll through her body. Their eyes burned fury through the holes of their masks, radiating pure evil. Those eyes were scanning the room. Search lights... searching for her.

And suddenly that chill that rolled through her body didn't much feel like it was from fear. There was something more behind it. Something darker. Something that Galloway, despite the grim reality, was aware was wildly inappropriate. Lust.

Their eyes locked onto Galloway and she felt the power behind their penetrative stares. Her heart seemed to rocket up into her throat. Her pulse was pounding. They began advancing on her.

And suddenly, Galloway was no longer standing in the gaming floor of the casino. She was back in the dingy basement of the Connelly apartment building. Rob was standing off to one side, naked and grinning ear to ear, keyboard in hand. In the cages, all of her friends stood and stared. Rob had apparently snapped them out of their trances. They were all back to normal. Even the puppet lay limp on the floor, no longer animated and brought to life.

"I want them to see what a whore you are," Rob remarked.

Galloway startled, because despite being back in the basement, the four robbers from the casino were still there, boring holes through her with their eyes. They continued to advance, guns at the ready. Rob was going to make all of her friends, neighbors, and coworkers watch what was about to happen. Halley would see what kind of two-timing whore she had hired. Her friend Graver would see Galloway willing to betray her team for her own selfish urges. And Ethan... poor Ethan... would relive the nightmare that had fractured their friendship...

"What do we have here," the lead robber ran his tongue over his lips as he appraised Galloway. She was still in her security uniform, she realized. When she glanced down at herself, she saw that her nipples had hardened considerably under their unwavering stares. They were pressing through her uniform shirt.

Oh no, she thought. Not again. But she knew it was inevitable. Her knees were shaking, but not out of fear. It was from excitement. And her pussy was wet, soaking into her thong.

The men surrounded her. They were real. How was that possible? None of them had survived the robbery in reality, but yet here they were now. Rob had managed to pull them out of her dreams and put them right here in front of her, in the flesh.

"Damn, boys. Look at these grade A tits," one of the men commented. He reached out one big meaty hand and grabbed Galloway over her shirt, giving her breast a squeeze. She let out a pleasurable groan, trying to fight it, but couldn't. He flicked her nipple through her shirt, then gave her breast a smack, making her cry out again. The men all laughed.

All of them except for Jones. She recognized him through his ski mask. His greedy eyes burning with fury. His dark skin obvious, even with the mask on. He stood in front of her, pushing her back until her butt pressed against some dusty boxes. "This is something I've been wanting to do for a long time, you little slut," he said, and reached out. He grabbed the collar of her uniform and gave a rough tug. Her shirt split open, right down the middle, sending buttons raining in all directions and exposing her milky flesh to the rest of the room.

Galloway couldn't stop herself. She let out an excited gasp and bit her lip. She looked meekly up at her four tormentors. They towered over her, big and hulking and muscular.

Her tits were barely restrained by her pink bra, and as soon as the men saw it, they all snickered. "Little miss tough bitch is actually little miss princess bitch," they remarked. They put their dirty paws on her chest and began to squeeze, making no effort to be gentle.

Galloway could smell the cordite on their clothes from the shots they'd fired. And as one of them ran his fingers across her plump tits, she spotted little smears of blood. Of course they were on the hands of Henry Demora— the leader. A rare and monstrous breed of psychopath with a sadistic history. He had a shaved head, prison tattoos up his neck, and wild eyes that gleamed brightly with an almost ephemeral glow. The sick fuck had even filed his teeth down to razor points.

Galloway knew she should be horrified. It was the blood of innocent people— of her friends. But when she took a breath, her whole body was quivering. It turned her on in ways that horrified her. The heat was radiating throughout her lower extremities. An incessant yearning tickle between her thighs drove her nuts.

Henry's hands went from her boobs up to her chin. He pinched her chin between his fingers like he owned her. "Are you going to be a good little slut for us?" He asked her with an evil smile.

Galloway's eyes flicked to the shocked expressions of her bosses, her fellow soldiers, her neighbors, the college girls, and her friend Ethan— one of the best friends she'd ever had. Their eyes were judging, she could feel it. That made the words that she spoke even more of a taboo.

"Defile me," she said, glancing up to Henry, then to the men around her. The lust was burning through her ice blue eyes. Her hands flying down her belt and feverishly unbuckling her pants. She was craving it desperately.

They laughed cruelly, several of them slapping each other on the back at the easy and intense lay that was being willingly offered to them.

Henry snatched Galloway roughly by the ponytail and yanked it until she was peering up at him. Her eyes, normally hard and strong, were big and doe-like. He snarled at her. "We're going to, don't you worry, slut." Then he pushed his face roughly against hers. Galloway moaned as she let this ugly dangerous man kiss her hard. His tongue was long and snake-like. He wrestled it into Galloway's mouth, where she almost choked on it. But despite herself, she started to suck on it eagerly.

As they kissed, he shoved her back onto the boxes where he half lay on top of her, violating her mouth with his and grinding his crotch into hers. From the corner of her eye, she could feel the shocked and heartbroken expressions of her friends. And a wave of pleasure washed over her. Not only was she growing thrilled at being watched, but at betraying her friends and integrity.

She willingly spread her legs. Her hands groped for Henry's crotch, and when she felt the monstrous bulge that was being spurred to life by his control over her, she melted with excitement. Her hands rubbed it up and down, feeling its length. Then her shirt was being pulled open, by the men who closed in from either side. They were rubbing her tits with feverish aggression. One of them slapped her breast, making the sound of wet meat being struck. Galloway whimpered, but her hands came away from Henry's crotch to the crotches of the robbers on either side of her.

"Look at how eager she is to show all her friends what a cock-hungry skank she is," they laughed. Galloway's hands out on either side of her, rubbed up and down, coaxing their members to life.

Across the room, multiple sets of horrified eyes were treated to the show— Galloway begging these evil men... not to satisfy her, but to the let her satisfy them.

"Use me," she pled. "Use my body however you want."

Henry produced a knife and when he brought it to her, he used it to snap her bra. It tore away, revealing her plump round breasts and hard pink nipples.

As he worked to strip the little security guard slut of her uniform, an accomplice— a big man named Ortega— lowered the zipper of his pants. What he extracted from his pants could hardly be considered a normal sized penis. Rob had apparently given these robbers some improvements in his narrative. Because the cock that Ortega wagged in front of Galloway's face was impossibly big. He was at least a foot long, with a thick round knob of a head at the end, that was already leaking with semen. Galloway took one look at it, and before she could respond, he slapped her across the face with it. His dick was so heavy, it knocked her head to one side, and made her cry out.

The rest of the men laughed as tears welled in her eyes, and her cheek burned bright red. But still, she turned back to face him, opened her mouth and continued to want him. Ortega struck her again, just as hard. "Fuckin' pig," he spat. And still, Galloway turned back to him, desperate to touch him.

"Please..." she begged him, her voice coming out like a whimper. "Please let me taste you. I want to do whatever you want me to..."

Ortega barely let her finish her sentence before he was grabbing her by the back of the head and stuffing himself deep into her mouth, right to the back of her throat. She choked almost instantly.

Watching from his cage, Ethan had to look away. It was too much to watch Galloway's mouth being violated like that. An exhausted Danni sensed his anguish and reached her hand through the bars to squeeze his fingers.

Ortega rough-fucked Galloway's mouth. Her voice made wet 'Glug glug glug!" sounds, as though she was drowning in saliva and cock.

Finally, when he pulled his cock from her mouth, she fought to catch her breath. A thick layer of saliva coated his dick. "Tongue," he ordered her. "Clean me up, bitch."

And Galloway used her tongue. She ran it in long licks up and down his impossible length. She circled it around the bloated head of his manhood.

Despite the vicious face fucking that she had endured at the hands of Ortega, her hands remained outstretched in either direction, entertaining the growing bulges of the other robbers.

"Look at this desperate slut," Ortega declared. Galloway held out her tongue while the vicious robber smacked his cock off of it again and again. Her moans came out as mindless 'la-la-la-la' sounds.

"Is this the kind of horny sluts you employ?" Ortega directed the question at Halley and Graver. Graver blushed and glanced away while Halley bore holes through the men with her eyes. "You're next, baby," he promised her with a wink, then went right back to his assault on Galloway's face. He wagged his cock at her, slinging her own saliva back into her face, in her eyes, into her hair.

Then he grabbed her head and stuffed her mouth once again. Her cheeks bulged like a squirrel who was packing away nuts. His hips forced his cock in and out of her mouth.

Between her legs, Henry had undid enough of her pants to pull them down her hips until they bunched around her boots. He left them like that, keeping her feet locked together, and he hoisted her legs high into the air, and rested her boots on his shoulder.