#psycho killer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

outerrimhours · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 31

Kinktober Day 31 : Phone sex with Ghostface

Title: Before the Devil

Pairing - Ghostface X Female!Reader

Prompt - Phone Sex

Word Count - 3,798

Warnings - NSFW 18+ (18+ minors DNI), everyone in this fic is 18+, murder, stalking, blood play, phone sex, dirty talk, dub con, threats, toxic interaction, pure digusting halloween filth.

AN/ Posting this a day early, because I haven't posted in weeks. This was my big finale. Transcribed from a wonderful NSFW audio on Pornhub btw, by HarpyVT. All of the unfinished Kinktober days will be posted in November. Thank you all for celebrating this holiday with me.

Song - Psycho Killer by Talking Heads

You flipped through the static channels of the radio, voices hastily peaking through until you heard the newscasters voice.

“The police have yet to apprehend the armed suspect, and advise that you take extra caution when locking up at night. The victims suffered multiple stab wounds and lacerations, but the survivors all said the same thing; they received a call from an unknown number moments prior to their attack. Local authorities have increased the amount of service operators available to respond to emergency calls and ask that you report any suspicious phone activity.”

You flipped to another channel, soft music swimming through your cerebral cortex like a wakeful dream. The home had a warm feeling, inviting, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way your heels clicked against the wood as you walked to the bathroom. You wanted to freshen up before he arrived.

Undressing felt nice, dress hitting the floor quickly, before allowing the faucet to run. The warmth of the water enticing all of your senses. You allowed your eyes to close briefly before your cell phone rang against the countertop. It was vexatious, the sound, but whoever was on the other line could wait. Probably just the pizza boy.

And then it rang again.

Frustrated at the disturbance, you pulled yourself from the warmth to step out of the shower, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”, the voice asked, but you promptly hung up, not recognizing the intonation.

As you wrapped the cotton towel around your soaking barness, you innocently assumed that would be the last interaction. Wrong number, obviously.

And then it rang once more.

“Can I help you?”, you nervously demanded.

“That was pretty rude”, the gravelly voice replied, “Look, I know you’re probably panicking, don’t worry…”

You were undoubtedly apprehensive, squeezing the towel tighter to your chest.

“As long as you listen to me, you’ll get out of this alive”.

You knew in that moment what you were truly facing, the masked voice, the devil on the newscast. Your legs felt unstable, heart bashing against the confines of its cage in panic.

“Let’s play a little game”, he said in response to your silence, “This game only has three rules. That’s simple enough right?

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, the way he licked his lips in anticipation. It was as if he were standing right behind you.

“Rule number one, you don’t hang up. Rule number two, you answer any of my questions honestly, and rule number three..you follow my instructions.”

When the voice on the other end didn’t receive a response, he added,

“Do you understand?”

Your throat felt dry, forcing down the lump in your throat to whisper a frightened “Yes”.

“Good”, he said, “Now, is there anyone other than the poor pizza boy coming over tonight?”

“No”, you lied, briefly sitting the phone against the marble to quickly dress.

“No? Good.”

Your hands were shaking, tears daring to spill down your cheeks as you opened the door. Bare feet pattering until you reached the entryway. The door was ajar, allowing the chill of the night to creep in and wrap itself around your bones.

You dared to peek through the crack, bile curtailing and rising to meet your esophagus. The innocent life depleted on the concrete, slumped against the stairs in a pool of coagulating blood.

You gasped, choking down a sob.

“Hey”, the voice soothed, “I can tell you’re scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of…” he paused, the tone almost reassuring, “As long as you follow the rules. Now I want you to reach into his pocket and take out his phone”.

“Why did you kill him”, you wailed, unable to tear your eyes away from the blue staring back.

“Why’d I kill him? Well..you see..he saw me out of the corner of his eye when he rang the doorbell. Do you understand now? He was so focused on saving himself, he wasn’t going to tell you a stranger was stalking nearby. He was heartless. So, I borrowed your pizza cutter, and fixed that little problem.”

The stranger scoffed on the other end, almost in disbelief you would question him.

“You should be thanking me. I’m not planning to do that sort of thing to you..after all.., I’m not an animal. I washed the pizza cutter already. It’s by the sink. Now open up his phone.”

The crystal glass was splattered with the remnants of the boy, staining your skin when you reached for it.

“It’s locked”, you said, looking away before the lunch you had earlier in the day made its way up your throat.

“Use his finger silly”, the voice laughed playfully, oblivious almost to the true nature of this reality before turning darker once more.

“Dial the number he last called and tell them everything is fine. He just drank too much on the job and saw things. Tell them you're his friend! And DON’T even think about asking for help…I am always right behind you after all.”

You hesitated. Could you call the police? You considered.

“I’m waiting”, the voice muttered impatiently.

So you dialed.

“Good girl.”

Your voice shook at the lies you were telling. An innocent life beneath your feet.

“See”, he chirped, “That wasn’t so hard was it? You’re off to a great start! Now.., go back to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of wine.”

“Okay..”, you swallowed.

“I..don’t like how nervous you sound. I wanted to have a little fun, that's all. You’re making me look like the bad guy here. I never planned to do anything bad to you. I promise. You’re just oh so pretty...”, the voice mused.

The silence was deafening, even as he spoke, the sound of your footsteps against the hardwood. To the left of the sink was the wine cabinet, so many choices, grabbing for one with shaky hands.

“Soo”, he continued, voice gruff and grainy through the phone, “grab a glass and just relax.”

If you were to die, at least you would be tipsy off the good stuff, pouring an eerily color of burgundy into the glass.

“Good girl”, the voice beamed, “Now, say your name.”

The wine was bitter, tartness soaking into the buds of your tongue, and you almost choked on its fruitfulness at the question.

“Why?”

“Why? Because, I want to hear you say it, that’s all”, he mused innocently, just to add

“And.., because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

“How”, you stuttered, apprehensively looking in every direction.

“You were very meticulous in setting up those security cameras, you even set one on the fridge. What were you hoping to catch? Someone raiding the fridge”, he laughed, “So tell me..”, he whispered, voice growing darker, “what’s your name?”

So you did, the word feeling so personal all of a sudden, as if the stranger was taking the most important thing about you.

“I like it. It suits you.”

“Alright, what’s yours”, you asked, the wine in your bloodstream making you bolder.

“Ghostface”, the stranger joked, “do you like my name too”, his boyish laugh tickling your ears. It was almost unsettling how innocent he sounded. It wasn’t what you expected a homicidal maniac to sound like.

“How sweet”, he whispered, the t clicking off his tongue in the most seductive way. The way he allowed his tone to change so quickly was so..ominous.

“Now”, he growled, “about that security camera, I have a better..idea of where to put it. Take it off the wall, and..bring it to the bedroom. We’re gonna continue our little game there.”

You gripped the countertop, knuckles whitening at the force, before chugging back the wine. You were apprehensive, angry.

“Hello”, he yelled, enraged, “I’m watching you! You’re being so difficult about this. I’m your guest aren’t I? So, where’s your sense of hospitality?”

You regretted his anger, fearful of the consequences.

“Are you in there”, you whispered, eyes closing, fearful of the answer.

“No,” he teased, “I’m not in the bedroom. I’m close, I’m..close, that’s all you have to know. I’m close enough to end the game, if you don’t play”, he whispered, almost aroused at the idea of your disobedience. Your death.

So you listened, gliding up the stairs to the door on the right.

It was dark, say for the street lights peering through. You half expected for your attacker to lunge.

“Now, set it up”.

You placed the camera on the dresser, perfectly angled toward the bed.

“What do you want with me?”

An annoyed laugh scoffed on the other end, “I told you already, it’s just a little game.”

“Now, sit on the bed, and take your clothes off….Slowly,” he whispered, “face the camera while you do it, I want to see everything.”

The wine had gone to your head, being drunk was a fool’s anesthetic, putting the primitive self in command, when it is the worst captain of all. Were you really wet at the idea of him watching as your straps slipped over the smooth skin of your shoulders, the way the fabric slipped down your body and to the floor, exposing the lingerie underneath? Meshed greens and speckled golds adorning the fabric.

There it was again, the boyish laughter so perfectly encapsulated in the phone, goosebumps forming along your flesh at the sound.

You could almost see his smile, “I like what you’re wearing underneath”, he teased, “It’s rather extravagant isn’t it? Are you sure you didn’t make plans with somebody tonight? Or…do you just like wearing that sort of thing underneath?”

He giggled.

“I knew I picked somebody fun”, he replied, when your answer was no. “I’m so glad you decided to play. Now take it off. OFF,” he demanded.

“There’s no one here but you and me right? Now look at us, so well acquainted already right? Don’t worry, I’m taking everything off too. Maybe if you're good, I'll even show you. I bet you're wondering what the man behind the voice looks like.”

You unclasped the bra, allowing the fabric holding the swell of your breasts to fall, nipples already hardening at the exposed chill. You swore you could hear him gasp, so quiet, almost unnoticeable, and when you pulled the band of your panties down over your hips, he sounded almost breathless,

“Good girl.”

“You’re very good at this game”, he whispered, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were aroused out of fear..or the way he praised you when you listened.

“It’s almost like you’ve..played it before. You know what I want now.., don’t you?

When he whispered, it was as if he were there right behind you, every letter perfectly pronounced on his tongue.

“Look straight into the camera, and spread your legs”, he was so breathy, as if he had to restrain himself as he watched you, every t sitting perfectly on his tongue.

You were sticky and oozing when your fingers met the entrance of your cunt, he stopped you.

“Ah ah, don’t touch yourself there quite yet, aren’t you an eager one. I want you to show off your body, take your hands..”, he breathed, “slid them down over your neck, to your hips, show me that beautiful figure…, I know you can do it, with what you were wearing underneath, I know you’re a little..freak? I know you know how to have a good time. Allllll by yourself. So show me..”

Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of your hands, so lightly, almost like a feather ghosting over the curves and dips of your body, you hated to admit you loved the way his voice sounded, the way it changed as he watched you. His exasperated sighs, the sensual articulation, the boyish desire.

“I want to watch everything, I want to watch you”, he sounded so whiney in the most magnetic way. Sometimes you almost forgot he had blood on his hands, until his voice grew darker and reminded you what he was capable of. He could so easily switch to the darkness.

“That’s right, put on a show for me. Like your life depends on it. I wanna see you shiver while you do it. Because you’re afraid, or because you’re aroused. I don’t care. Both do it for me. And you’re gonna cum for me, whether you like it, or not.”

You swallowed harshly, unable to look in the camera as you touched yourself. The threat almost sobering you.

“Spread your legs a little bit more”, and so you did, allowing the camera a perfect angle of your soaked cunt. “Just like that, I’m getting so hard for you. You’re doing so well, you’re playing so well. Now..underneath the bed, I have a little present for you.”

You adjusted hesitantly, reaching underneath to find the object of his reference.

“Wait..”, you whispered, holding the container in your hand with aversion.

“Yeah, it’s what you think it is. It’s blood.” His voice was shaky with arousal, “Take it in your hands and touch yourself again.”

The metallic smell was sobering, sickening. You hesitated.

“Why are you hesitating?”He scolded.

“Who’s is it”, you questioned.

“Who’s? Does it matter? Will you stop playing the game if I tell you? Will you end the game if I tell you?” The frustrated tone in his voice lowering back to a whisper, the wet squelch of his cock between his hand filling your ear. It almost made you forget the way he lashed out.

He breathed out, voice shaky, at the site of you obeying. The cold, sap like liquid trailing over every crevice of your body, painted by your fingertips.

“Good girl,” he praised, holding back soft gasps.

“Touch..every single inch of yourself for me. Pay attention to every part of your body, all the grooves that no one else pays attention to. I want to see it, I want to pay attention to it, all the little secrets that you keep.”

The stranger was so aroused, his throaty, mellifluous gasps allowing your own arousal to seep through. You loved hearing his little gasps.

“Show me what makes you grip the sheets, show me what makes you throw your head back in pleasure”, soft moans peaking through with every sentence, “ And I will watch..every..single..moment of it. Every streak you paint on yourself is like a confession, because you may act afraid…you may act…like you don’t like this…but what you really really don’t want is to admit it. You don’t want to admit that you’re giving in. You don't want to admit that you’re enjoying yourself. You don’t want to admit that you wanted this. You want to keep all these secrets, hidden from yourself, but look, look at you painting your whole body red. Look how good you look in red, all these streaks adorning you like a goddess. Touch yourself like nobody ever has. I want you to squeeze your breasts, touch your nipples the way you want to, not the way anyone else wants you to. The way you wanted. The way only you know it.”

And so you did. Cupping and squeezing the flesh, allowing the sharp squeeze of your nipples to make your back arch.

“Slide your hands down your thighs the way you want to. And drag your fingers down your waist to touch your inner thighs, tighten your legs as you brush over that sensitive spot, dig your nails into your skin, and mark yourself up. Arch your back as you make your way back to your neck..and wrap your fingers around it and choke yourself, like I wish I could. Push so hard that the blood stains your skin.”

You gasped softly at the feeling allowing you to cut your airflow shortly.

“Do it so hard it hurts”, the voice softly cried.

“Remember, I said I wanted you to cover every single inch. And don't forget anything and don't worry I’m not judging you. I'd never judge you. Whether you choose to have a taste, rub it on your lips. I’m not judging you. In fact, I'm right there with you. I'm enjoying everything with you. Beautiful. You are absolutely stunning, darling. God, I can't hold back any longer. Now rub your little clit, and make sure you keep your face in the camera. Lose yourself, make those beautiful, agonizing moans, for me.”

The praise, the way the boy made you feel so important. How fucked up could you truly be? By the time your fingers reached the perfect little bundle of nerves, you were so sensitive, biting your lip and savoring the metallic liquid stained over the skin. Your back arched at the feeling, cunt glistening even in the moonlight.

“Oh!” He moaned softly, “Just like that.” His little hushed moans and gasps as the spit surely coating his cock, squelched, causing your own soft sighs to escape. You loved how innocent he sounded in his own pleasure.

His imperceptible cries and whines at the pump of his cock, losing himself in the way you touched yourself to his voice.

“You are such a good girl, aren't you? Agh..”, he cried, “You look so pretty in red. Oh.., agh”, You too wanted to cry out in pleasure at the sounds he made. So innocent, boyish little whimpers.

“Fuck”, the voice on the phone cracking, grunts and cries of pleasure filling every sense as you played with yourself. Eyes closed, picturing the way he would look next to you.

“Mmm, fuck, agh.” He roughly swallowed, losing his breath as his hand sped up, and you whimpered at the sound.

“Put your whole pussy on display for me. Get fucking closer, get closer to the camera and show off. Come on, show me, show me, show me. Oh!”, He begged.

You loved it. You had never been so wet for anyone, and all you had was his voice. Every cry, whimper, moan, and gasp that left his pretty lips sending you closer to the edge. The dominance he exuded extinguishing with every little sound he made. You felt so proud. You wanted to know how he would look underneath you, eyes big and wide, looking up at you like you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Fuck.

Your fingers entered, cunt clenching at the fullness, although you knew it wasn’t enough. Surely you would feel even more full with him inside of you.

You loved the way his voice cracked, higher pitched with every curse he cried. He sounded so pretty.

“My little devil, aren't you?” He whispered, “ You little devil. Oh f-..keep looking at the camera. Keep looking. Mphm, I can’t get off unless I’m looking at your pretty face. Did you know that? It’s all part of the game. I have to look at you. I have to watch you. I have to see you.”

You grew impossibly wetter with every confession. Finger curving with every pump.

“Look at yourself in the mirror too. Oh, watch yourself. Watch yourself fucking touching yourself for me.”

His pumps slowed with every groan, “Do you hear that? Do you hear how hard I am for you?”

You moaned, gasping for breath as you watched the way your fingers disappeared inside of your pussy. The pornographic sound of his cock thrusting in his hand.

“Agh, how much my fucking cock is leaking for you. Only a pretty, dirty, naughty girl can do this for me. Only someone like you can get me this hard. Oh, and look how wet you are.”

With every word his voice grew quieter, desperate.

“Come on”, he whispered, “take all of that and rub it on your thighs. Taste it, taste yourself.”

You loved the way your arousal tasted on your tongue, so salty and pure.

“I did this all for you. I did all of this for you. Aren’t you grateful I picked you?

“Yes,” you cried, circling your clit faster at the moans leaving his lips. He sounded so close. Coming so undone.

“Of fuck. I’m so fucking wet”, he cried, gasping for breaths. His heavenly whimpers, voice cracking with every moan.

“Keep moaning for me. I want to hear you, I want to hear you, I want to hear you so badly, I want to hear your screams, your moans, your whimpers, your cries, every single sound your body makes”, he begged.

The thrusts of his cock grew sloppier as his boyish little cries rang out.

“Look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty, so fucking pretty. Can you hear that? This precum in my hands. Don't I sound so aroused? All for you. Only for you!”

Every cry and whimper and moan, it was truly all for you, and you did feel so grateful.

You were both so close.

His gravelly voice as he thrusted in and out of his hand, it made you cry in pleasure.

“Spread your fucking pussy lips for”, He slurred. You obeyed, allowing a growel to slip through his lips.

“Let me see inside. Fuck, rub your little clit, rub it with your bloody, guilty little fingers. Confess to me, confess to me what a bad girl you are. Oh!”

“There you are”, you praised at his sloppy, forceful thrusts. His wildly high pitched moans. You bet he looked so pretty, lips parted, eyes so big and wide.

He was gonna cum, you could tell by the frequency of his moans and perfect grunts. His whimper higher pitched than ever. You moaned wildly at the little boyish sounds he made. So perfect in every way, only for your ears.

“Im gonna cum” he cried, “Cum with me.” His voice grew more forceful, the innocent whimpers turning into the man you knew earlier, the aggression as he spoke, no longer a beg, more so a demand. “Cum with me!”

Only for the moans to continue, you allowed your release to wash over you at the sounds he made. Cum pooling and dripping from your cunt as your heart raced wildly. It was so blindingly perfect, you almost forgot where you were, the situation you were in. Until that same, maniacal laughter rang through. Oh how easily he could switch.

“That..that was a very good game darling. Good job. Good job. Thank you for playing with me”, he laughed, catching his own breath.

“And a word of advice”, he sighed, you could almost hear the resentment as he rolled his eyes, “You didn’t forget did you? That you broke one of the rules. You lied. You said that nobody else was coming by tonight. You forgot to tell me. You forgot to tell me not to kill him. Now, time to run little rabbit. Afterall, this isn't your house is it? Do you remember now?”

The last thing you heard before the dial tone from him hanging up.

Taglist: @samspenandsword @acatalystrising @sharpbarnacle @kraytclaw @adikas-world @the-good-shittt

#jedimastersovikinktober #kinktober 2022 #ghostface #ghostface smut #halloween #slasher smut #psycho killer

2K notes · View notes