Work Text:
The chains around your neck, and your wrists, looked like they were hundreds of years old. Heavy, and covered in red rust, it seemed that time had done nothing to diminish the wrought iron strength that kept you trapped in this dark basement.
You had no idea how long you’d been down here, but it couldn’t have been that long.
You’d been hiking out in the woods with a group of your friends, it was a yearly tradition that stretched so far back that you couldn’t remember how it had started. You’d all gotten lost on the trail and ended up somewhere new, it was some abandoned summer camp, or something. You’d quickly realised you were lost, and you’d turned around as a group and began to head back.
A giant, broad beast of a man was suddenly in front of you, he had a machete in his grip and an old hockey mask covering his face. He’d moved silently despite his colossal size.
He’d murdered your friends one by one right in front of you, using his machete and his brick fists to break bone and slice flesh to spray the green grass with blood. You’d screamed and yelled, catching his attention, but he’d dropped his machete when he’d turned to you. He’d merely looked at you for a long time, behind that mask, before his grimy, meaty hand was in your hair and dragging you along the bloody ground like a pig he’d just slaughtered. You’d screamed and cried the whole way until you’d reached a house, weather-beaten and old, and were dumped in the basement. The chains had already been there, like they were waiting for you. Or you weren’t the first. Both thoughts made you shudder.
You’d tried tugging on the chains at first but there was absolutely no give, although you did have a little leeway to move around and had decided to start searching for something sharp, perhaps to saw through one of the weakest links or even just to defend yourself when he came back, you didn’t know, your brain was alight with fear.
You could barely see an inch in front of your face in the darkness, and your scrabbling hands on the concrete floor had only led to scrapes and splinters, but you couldn’t give up - if you gave up, you died.
You stopped moving, like a deer caught in the headlights, when you heard the creak of a door, then the unmistakable stomp of those heavy boots on the wooden stairs that led down to your prison. Your breathing, and your heart, sped up in tandem and little shrieks of terror ripped themselves from your throat in petrified anticipation.
The goliath stood in the basement. You could only make out his silhouette, but even the darkness did nothing to hide the sheer size of him. He looked like a roided out wrestler or a bipedal wolf. He reached a thick arm out and pulled a string and a light flickered to life above you. It was a single bulb, and it swung menacingly back and forth, bathing the murderous man in pale light that danced across him and echoed his shadow across the walls.
You shuddered even more violently now. He was tall, and huge, his body thick and fibrous with muscle. He wore torn and ragged clothes; muddied jeans and a frayed and tattered plaid shirt that gaped open with missing buttons, showing a black t-shirt beneath that stretched taut and foreboding over solid pectorals. Every item he wore was splattered with blood. His face was completely obscured by an old-fashioned hockey mask, and you didn’t have to guess why. There was no way someone like your tormentor would go unnoticed anywhere, mask or no mask, no - he wore it to hide something, something terrible that lurked beneath.
Wilting with terror, you cast your gaze away and noticed other details in the basement. There were tools, rusted and dangerous, an old generator, more chains hanging from the wooden slates of the ceiling, and, most bizarrely, a table with melted beeswax candles covering the whole surface. The wicks had long since burnt out, and wax had dripped down the table legs and onto the floor. The table was pressed against a hole in the wall, but it was too dark to see if anything lurked inside.
Above the hole was a hanging sign nailed to the wall, old, wooden: Jason’s room.
“J…Jason…” Your voice trembled, and the masked man turned his head sharply to you. Your shoulders hunched. “That’s your name?” You licked your lips, so paralysed with fear that you didn’t even know how you were managing to speak. “Jason, please.” Your voice shook and your chains rattled as you moved. “Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Jason ignored you. Instead, he lunged forward and seized the front of your stained shirt in his fist, tearing the fabric until it spilled between his fingers, leaving a gaping hole at your chest, revealing your grimy skin and cleavage beneath. The chill hit you, from the cold air and from something else entirely, it was clear that Jason only wanted one thing from you.
You screamed, it was an instinctive response, and tried in vain to clamber away as far as you could, your chains rattled along with you as if in their own private panic.
Jason stood back to his full height, which nearly resulted in his head touching the wooden slats above, and wrapped the loose end of one of the chains, a few links to where it was affixed to the wall, leisurely around his hand. He yanked, hard, and you flew back, cracking your backside on the floor. You threw your head back as pain blossomed through you, finding Jason with the thick chain in his thick hands. It was almost like he was waiting for you to look, so he could taunt you by drawing the chain back slowly and you cried out as you were dragged back to him. Your bare legs, from your hiking shorts, scraped along the unforgiving concrete floor and you were forced up onto your bare knees. Your body was on fire with pain and Jason was looking down on you almost sardonically despite his mask, chain still gripped in his gargantuan fist. He rattled it in your face and you closed your eyes and sobbed. You knew you weren’t going anywhere and so did he. In fact, he seemed to delight in it.
Jason tugged again and the chain around your neck tightened, like a pet being brought to heel. Immediately, your airflow was restricted and you were forced up higher onto your knees, feeling the strain in your spine, until you were face-level with his crotch.
Jason kept one hand on the chain, keeping you taut, and with the other he opened the front of his grubby jeans. There was no underwear beneath, and he pulled himself out.
Your mouth fell open into a breathless gasp, coughing as you tried to draw in air that wasn’t there. The cock he held in his blood-stained fist was huge, in both length and girth. His hand, so large it had ripped your best friend’s heart straight from her ribcage, barely closed around it. You imagined if he let it go, it would fall to his knees. It was swollen with blood, hard as a rock from your pain and curving up and showing you wetness at the slit.
You trembled violently in fear, maybe even hindbrain arousal, at the sight of such a glorious, terrible thing.
He wasn’t one for waiting around, apparently, as he shoved his wet cockhead against your lips and smeared them with precome. His thick crown was wider than your mouth.
You pressed your lips together, ignoring your screaming lungs in your absolute refusal to let him in.
Jason let out an animalistic growl of frustration and his free hand left his cock, thick fingers pushing between your pursed lips and clawing at your teeth until you could taste the blood and dirt that coated them. Fingers against your molars and thumb under your jaw, he clamped your mouth open, pulling harder on the chain and straightening your spine until the pain shot through you. You didn’t have time to scream as he shoved his cock into your open mouth.
You weren’t wide enough to take him and your inner cheek tore on his ferocious entry and your mouth filled with blood. He didn’t care, canting his hips forward and rubbing the underside of his veined girth against your tongue. He used your spit, your blood, and even your tears to lubricate himself to the back of your throat. The hand still keeping your jaw prised meant that you couldn’t even clamp your teeth down on him like you wanted to, but soon you were thinking of nothing at all, the pain was extraordinary, coupled with having Jason’s enormous cock so far down your throat that your neck bulged with him, took away all your faculty. You could taste your own blood, and feel your saliva building, you choked on both but they had nowhere to go, stoppered by the thick cock taking all the space in your mouth for itself, until you were forced to drool uncontrollably around him and your saliva hit the floor. Jason tugged on the chain again and you jerked, you fancied he could feel it tightening around himself.
Any normal man would have come by now, but you highly suspected Jason was anything but, and when he pulled out, he was as hard as he’d been when he’d pushed in. Blood and spit sprayed onto the floor and his cock glistened with it.
The pressure on the chain was finally released and you collapsed down, body flooding with endorphins as the strain on your muscles was taken away. You coughed and spluttered onto the floor, flecks of red hitting the concrete, and your mouth and your throat felt like they were on fire after such abuse. Your eyes were welling with tears of pain and your chained hands flew to your neck and you gasped at the aggravated bruising beneath the cool metal. When you looked back up at Jason, you had red streaks down your chin like a vampire.
His cock bobbed menacingly in front of your face, still terrifyingly hard, and still red with your blood. He wound the end of your chain around a structural support pillar beside him, and while it didn’t tighten against your flesh, you realised you couldn’t move anymore, the chains only giving you about two inches of wiggle room. You gulped with your ruined throat. You were fucked.
“Please.” Your voice was a wrecked rasp.
Jason knelt down in front of you, hands curling around your ankles and tugging you close to him as he pulled your legs wide apart. You did your best to kick but you could barely move against his colossal strength.
“Jason, please, no.” You begged.
He wrestled with your legs for a moment, apparently trying to figure out some mental arithmetic, before he finally clamped his large hand around both of your ankles, easily, and held your legs tight together and lifted them high in the air until your thigh muscles burned. His free hand curled around the waistband of your shorts and you heard the tear of fabric. He didn’t rid you of them completely, he just made himself some access to what he wanted. You felt the chill on your bare cunt as he ripped your panties to tatters, your lips pressed tight together under the squeeze of your thighs but still very much on show with how high your legs were lifted.
Jason reared forward, bending you almost in half as his fingers spread your pussy open as wide as he could in this position, revealing the pink of your slit, wet with fear, or pain, or deep, twisted arousal. You bit your lip and trembled as he took his big cock in his hand again and ran it through your folds, stealing your wetness for himself, searching until he caught the rim of your hole and pressed inside. You screamed as you were stretched out, made even tighter by your legs pressed together, and he entered you so brutally that you swallowed his whole cock in one go. He sat heavy inside you, weighing you down as his crown sat thickly against your cervix, his heavy meat pressed hard and unforgiving against your sweet spot. You gurgled.
He pushed onto his knees and began rutting into you immediately, like an animal fucking its stolen mate before the leader of the pack realised. There was nothing skilled or finessed about it, it was a massive cock splitting your cunt open, and rearranging your guts all the way up to your lungs. The pressure was unforgiving, the heavy thud of his cock against your sensitive walls and sensitive sweet spot utterly inescapable. You screwed your eyes shut as pleasure coursed through your whole body, moaning loudly when your orgasm was ripped from you, and feeling yourself dribbling around his cock and leaking down the cleft of your own backside.
Jason didn’t stop, he kept fucking you even as you were coming, forcing painful sparks of pleasure into your trembling walls. He did release your legs, grabbing your inner thighs and smearing them with blood and grime as he held them against his chest, giving himself more room as that selfish animal rutting into your tight heat continued.
Your legs began to shake uncontrollably against him as the pressure built hard inside you again in an alarmingly quick pace and you gasped and shuddered, full-bodied, as you came again, clenching hard on his cock like it mattered, like it would slow his assault and allow you to come in peace. It didn’t.
Jason reared forward, higher onto his knees, the new angle bruising against your cervix, his hips speeding up until his cock inside you was ferocious and the pressure and the stimulation was never-ending. You wailed, high and pitiful, your eyes crossing and your body trembling as you came for a third time and gushed around him. Your stomach was cramping with exhaustion, your cunt sore with overuse but he felt so fucking good inside you that you didn’t want him to ever stop.
“Jason,” you choked out.
His hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he ploughed into you with purpose. His thick neck muscles glistened with sweat, tendons jumping as he slammed into you with all of his might, hitting your insides with enough force to break a wall, or a bone, and every thrust was agony, delicious agony, and you dribbled and babbled something inhuman when he forced another one from you.
This time when you came, he stilled, and you throbbed and convulsed on his cock. He stayed there for a moment, hands letting your hips go and growling quietly, before he pulled out harshly. You gasped and trembled, his cock bobbed in front of your pussy, smeared white and you covered your eyes when you realised he’d come in you.
Jason let his cock bob in the aftershocks of a good fuck as he pulled your pussy open and inspected the wreckage he’d made. Your hole was blown wide and ruined, and that hockey mask was peering down almost proudly. You whimpered. You were so ready to die.
Jason stood easily, with core strength alone, pushing his cock back inside his tattered jeans and doing them up again. He looked at your trembling body on the floor, then glanced at the odd shrine for a moment, before turning on his tyrannosaur feet and walking back up the stairs.
“Hey, wait!” You screamed, scrabbling onto your bruised knees, your entire body sore and aching, watching his retreating back as it disappeared from view. “Jason!”
The light went out.