Black StigmataChapter 4 free porn video

Jason was lying on his back, spread eagle and howling in agony. Keeping him pinned to the ground were several strands of barbed wire, burrowing into his hands and feet like earthworms, while repeatedly surfacing only to dive back down. He could feel it all, every tearing slip of the metal blades severing veins and muscle cords, the splitting of his skin as they surfaced and submerged, and every drop of blood spraying from the shredded arteries. He had already lost so much blood, enough to die several times already, yet it still hissed from his ravaged body in steaming fountains. With nothing but darkness in all directions, he was desperately trying to repeat to himself that this was only a dream, yet it did nothing to lessen the horrifying pain being inflicted upon him.

As the wires dug through his flesh to reach his knees and elbows, the hard glass-like ground that he was laying on suddenly became soft and wet, as if he were laying on a bed of oiled latex. He looked around fearfully, wondering what new horror this was. Like in all his dreams, the bright red light shone down from the nonexistent sky above, finally allowing Jason to truly see.

An eye, the ground beneath him had been transformed into a giant human eyeball, with him lying pinned on its pupil. He could see every fiber in the blue iris quiver and tremble as the red light shined down and Jason weighed upon its surface. Without warning, the wires in this body suddenly made one great surge through his flesh, surpassing his knees and elbows and proceeding to now tear apart his thighs and biceps. At the same time, a familiar crash rang out, the sound of a billion bones being snapped at once, each with the volume of a flash-bang grenade.

As if heralded by the crash, crimson symbols appeared in the air around Jason. They were the symbols imprinted into his memories, having been forced into his mind by the nail. Almost materializing in thin air, they formed a cylindrical shape from the sides of the eyeball up to the red light above, making Jason feel like he was lying in the bottom of a well. Staring up at the light, he felt a shiver of terror crawl up his spine. From the bloody radiance, a colossal nail was lowered like the formation of a black icicle, all four sides gleaming and bringing with it a chorus of haunting whispers. As long as five school buses and with a head the size of a backyard trampoline, the nail slowly began to descend towards Jason.

Screaming in terror, Jason pulled at the wires that riddled his body, desperately wanting to escape but only worsening the damage inflicted to his limbs. The whole time he thrashed and tugged, his eyes never left the approaching nail, slowly lowering itself towards him like he was a fly caught in the web of a black widow. He could feel it, the immeasurable evil within the nail. It was like staring a psychopath square in the eye, times a million. He knew what it wanted: to bring death, to invoke horror, to cause suffering, to spread, and to drown the world in darkness.

Unable to escape from it, Jason chewed on his lip furiously, watching as the tip of the nail approached his stomach. He hopelessly sucked in his gut, knowing it would spare him only a second of pain. With unchanging speed and weight, the tip of the tail touched down on his navel, then slowly pressed down. Before Jason could truly prepare for it, the tip of the nail pierced his flesh and Jason released a scream of pain as the nail delve deep into his torso, moving slowly, hauntingly. The farther it moved into his gut, the wider it expanded the wound, all the while the corners of the four sides cut his skin like razor blades and blood poured down his sides.

After puncturing his stomach and letting gastric acid and blood flush through his torso cavity, the tip of the nail reached his spine. Without any change in speed, it pushed down on one of his vertebrae and broke it like a small clay pot under a guillotine. The nail severed Jason's nerves without any issue, sending a bolt of pure, unhindered pain straight to his brain, leaving him in too much agony to even scream. Continuing to drop, the tip of the nail came out of the skin of his lower back and touched the very middle of the pupil of the eye beneath Jason.

Piercing the liquid membrane, the nail triggered the flaring of every blood vessel in the eyeball, with the pupil dilating and shrinking frantically over and over. The nail drove deeper and deeper into they eye, all the while slowly ripping Jason in half with the expanding wound. Even with his nerves severed, he could still feel everything below the wound, from the tearing of his flesh to the barbed wires still riddling his legs. Not only that, but all the damage that the eye was sustaining, his own eyes were sustaining. He could feel it in each eye, a nail being driven deeper and deeper into his pupils, quickly blinding him.

After the nail reached a certain depth, the eye completely ruptured into a shredded marsh of layered gelatin. Now, not only was the nail piercing him through and expanding his wound, it was pushing him down into the foamy mess. Completely blinded and crippled, Jason thrashed with what little strength he had left, trying to keep his head above the surface of the eye fluid. Refusing to let him have that one escape, the nail forced him all the way into the sludgy liquid, leaving him to struggle and slowly drown like a dinosaur in a tar pit.

Jason bolted awake, and in the process fell off his tiny cot and onto the cold cement floor. Never had he been so happy to wake up in prison. Well, that wasn't quite right. In the week since he had been "arrested" for the death of a cop, he had woken up from every stretch of sleep drenched in sweat after suffering more agony than he ever thought possible. Was this what drug withdrawal was like? In his dark 8 by 10 foot cell, Jason tremblingly pulled himself over to the small sink above his toilet and splashed some water in his face.

Seven days in prison were bad enough, but he had three more weeks to look forward to, and with the influence of the nail poisoning his mind every single second. Ever since he had come to this place, his nightmares seemed to have worsened in their horror and pain. The nail was no longer with him, but he could feel its malicious will weighing down upon his mind as if he were in a trash compacter. It had gone past the regular nightmares and was providing the instructions that Professor Nelson had listed, the instructions for the ritual of creating new nails. But was it really trying to force him to perform the ritual, or was it perhaps angered that he had been separated from it and was now punishing him?

Oh well, things could be worse. For both his protection and the protection of his fellow inmates, he was kept from the general population and locked in solitary confinement. Since he wasn't really "incarcerated", he was allowed outside at times for visits from his family, girlfriend, and Professor Nelson. Whether absence really did make the heart grow fonder or she had finally admitted to herself that she liked ass-play, Christi seemed to have fully forgiven him, though they weren't able to have conjugal visits.

Plus, with his own private jail cell and nothing but time on his hands, he was finally able to get his act together on his schoolwork. To try and distract himself from the nail's influence, he read every book he could get his hands on and was way ahead in his classes. Professor Nelson visited him almost every day with missed schoolwork from all his courses and to check on his recovery. For his cold demeanor, he certainly was not one to ignore someone in pain. Lastly, since he was in solitary confinement, he didn't have to deal with other inmates. That of course meant not getting raped in the ass, and not getting raped in the ass is always a good thing.

But his life was still hell. The symbols that the nail had imprinted in his mind had not left, he still saw them whether his eyes were open or closed. If he ever managed to fall asleep, it was never for more than an hour or so at a time, and when he did sleep, he always suffered the most horrific and painful nightmares. Even when he was awake, he was not free of the nail's influence. Throughout the day, he would experience hallucinations and hear the haunting whispers in his ear, telling him to set loose unspeakable horrors onto the world and commit crimes that made him sick. Besides, even though he was able to visit with Christi and his family, he missed the sunlight.

"I had the stabbing dream again, where I'm on top of a giant eye and the nail runs me through. I can feel it ripping me to shreds, even now," Jason muttered, speaking with Dr. Nelson in the visitation chamber of the prison.

Unlike the TV shows and movies where the inmates were held back by reinforced glass windows and had to speak through phones, this penitentiary had a large cafeteria-like room where inmates and their visitors could speak openly across tables. The room was empty, except for Jason and Professor Nelson. Even the guards were asked to stand outside so that no one could listen in on their conversation.

"The Black Stigmata is trying to strengthen its hold on you. Since you and it are separated by distance, its influence will naturally weaken and it knows this. It's trying to push you into accomplishing the ritual as soon as you can while it still is able to direct your actions."

"Have you found the nail yet?"

"No, the area where I sent the officer to pick you up has been combed repeatedly, but the nail has yet to be found. We've also questioned everyone connected to you and the officer, as well as anyone who was on that road after the encounter. Your family is also safe, they have been questioned on the nail but without letting them know of its actual existence. They know absolutely nothing about the Black Stigmata, and I haven't seen any signs to suggest one of them has become a new host."

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know his family wasn't in danger. He didn't want to think about what might happen if someone he cared about became a Host for the nail.

"However, things are far from good. Not only is the disappearance of the nail a very deadly loose end, we have found two corpses that have underwent the ritual, both with their nails already removed. That means that at this time, there are at least FIVE Black Stigmata floating around the state, the fifth being the twin to the one you found. I was hoping the nails would stay dormant for a while. They normally do that, waiting for things to settle down and the BSC to turn their heads, but that is not the case this time. If anything, they're increasing their aggression."

Nelson then held up a file and laid it out on the table, revealing several pictures from crime scenes, in which people had been raped, murdered, butchered, dissected, and even cannibalized. "Five, possibly even more Hosts could be active at this very moment, and from the number of murders and rapes we've also been seeing, the Hosts are trying to fight against them."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that psychotic state I told you about? The one you could enter if exposed to a Black Stigmata in close proximity after the amount of time you've spent with it? The length of that state can be extended if the Host tries to defy the nail. The nails themselves cannot perform the ritual for multiplication, even if they possess someone. Their Host must do it under their own free will, even if the nail is forcing them to. If a Host refuses to perform the ritual, then not only will the Black Stigmata become more brutal in the psychological torture that it inflicts, but it also makes do with what it is given and uses the Host to fulfill it's secondary objective: spread chaos and suffering.

Basically the Host is left with two options: perform the ritual or continue to let the nails torment him/her while their own body is used like a puppet on strings to commit horrible crimes. If the Host doesn't give into the Black Stigmata's demands, months can pass by in which they enter the psychotic state over and over again, sometimes killing multiple people each week. The BSC even suspects that many of the most brutal serial killers in history were actually trying to fight back against the control of nails, unknowingly strengthening the hold of the Black Stigmata on their souls and turning them into monsters.

Remember when I said that the BSC sends me updates on every case just in the USA? My email inbox is a mass grave of new bodies every morning."

Back in the outside world, things weren't going well for Colleen either. Word had spread that her brother was in jail for supposedly killing a cop and school had become hell. From first impressions, it would seem like all the girls in her school were friends, but almost every nice word was fake and every insult was hidden. It was just like the old saying: guys communicate through insults they don't mean and girls communicate through compliments they don't mean. The female population was split up into small cliques, all passive-aggressively snipping at each other.

Colleen got up every morning before dawn to make sure her makeup, hair, and outfit were perfect, just to try and protect her social standing. Any flaw that could be noticed, any mistake that could be called out on would give one of her enemies a chance to tear into her. That was all it took, for one of the girls she hated with all her heart to mention that a lock of hair had come undone or her makeup had smeared and that she now looked like she had just been skull-fucked. With her brother in jail, anyone looking to eliminate an obstacle in becoming the school matriarch would hurl it at her and make it sound like her whole family was crazy.

But it was more than that. She didn't know what it was, but it seemed like Colleen and everyone around her were always on edge, all with exceptionally thin skin and no patience for anything from anyone. She was getting into fights with her true friends more and more often, she was getting into real open fights with her competitors (a few times, it almost became physical), her grades were dropping, she couldn't sleep, nothing made her happy anymore, and she just felt like her luck was in the toilet.

Held without bail, she had been told that her brother's trial would be in a few weeks, and she just had to hope and pray that he would be found innocent. In her bag, she kept the strange nail she had found in his car. She didn't know why she carried it with her; it was as if something had whispered in her ear that it was a good luck charm, and that as long as she carried it and had Jason in her thoughts, everything would be fine. So far, it had proved to be some shitty good luck charm, yet she felt compelled to keep it with her.

In the aftermath of a disastrous field hockey practice, Colleen stood in the shower of the girl's locker room, hoping the hot water pouring down on her would wash away whatever funk was holding her back. She kept herself in the corner, wanting to stay unnoticed as the other girls began the predictable dance of bitching at each other, often with fake smiles to try and portray some kind of air of confidence. Colleen was in no mood to deal with the bullshit.

"Oops! Don't drop the soap, Lindsay!" a girl giggled.

Beth was her name; sixteen years old, long black hair, and c-cup tits. She was talking to one of her friends, Lindsay, a girl with auburn hair like Colleen and slightly larger tits. Fulfilling her skit, a blonde by the name of Anna rushed over to her bent over friend, grabbed her by the hips, and began humping her like a dog, slapping her naked thighs against Lindsey's ass.

"Yeah, welcome to prison, bitch!" Anna laughed while her friend gave fake cries of pain.

Beth, Lindsay, and Anna, probably the three girls Colleen hated most in school. Like all girls, they operated in a three-person squad, and her group was always in direct opposition to Colleen's. There were several routes to popularity; being super hot, being liked by everyone, sleeping around to control the guys, being rich, or such methods. They were sluts, having slept with half of every sports team and supposedly a few teachers. They were even bisexual.

"My brother isn't getting raped in prison, he's in solitary confinement," Colleen muttered.

"I guess that's to keep him from raping other guys. More than a cop-killer, it sounds to me like he's a fag and a rapist," Beth teased.

In Colleen's bag, the Black Stigmata began to rumble.

"He didn't kill that cop, he's not gay, and he's not a rapist! But if he was, I would set him loose on you!" Colleen said with angry tears in the corners of her eyes.

The three girls stiffened at the harsh threat and the rest of the team stared at Colleen. Wishing for them to get raped? Now that was taking it a little far. The whole locker room was now silent, save for the hissing of the showers.

Lindsey gained a smirk. "I bet you'd like your brother to be that way, then there would finally be a guy willing to fuck you. I bet you spend every night wishing he would come into your room and brutalize you like the dirty little whore you are."

The Black Stigmata continued to rumble, and a deep chanting began to emanate from it, but not in any frequency that could be picked up by the girls in the locker room. The viciousness in the air was resonating with the nail. Now there were plenty of psychological buttons for it to push at.

The insinuation hit Colleen like a punch to the gut. She loved her brother, but not in that way. Now they were calling him a killer and a rapist and accusing her of incest.

"Maybe that's how you all learned how to fuck? Did your daddies love you just a little too much? Or did they not love you enough so you went out to fuck every half-stiff dick you could find as vengeance? With how whorish you are, I wouldn't be surprised if someone in your families fell into those gaping cum-dumpsters of yours!" Colleen shouted, approaching them by a few steps.

"Aw, looks like the prissy bitch got her feelings hurt," Anna scoffed. "I'm guessing you're done sucking up to everyone? I'm glad that bullshit is done, but it's a shame you quit now, you had almost enough brown on your nose that we wouldn't have to look at that pitbull mug of yours."

In Colleen's bag, an ominous crimson light shined in the pocket holding the nail, as more and more of its malevolence was released into the environment like a pheromone.

"Colleen, come on, we're going to miss the bus," her friend Liz said, trying to pull her away.

"Stay out of this! If you aren't going to help me, you can just leave!"

Liz scowled. "Fine, I'm done with this. You're on your own."

Colleen looked at the rest of the spectators. "Same for you! If you aren't on my side, then get the fuck out!"

Giving the same shrugs and sighs of "whatever, fuck you too", all the other girls finished getting dressed and stormed out, leaving Colleen, Beth, Lindsay, and Anna, still standing in the showers with droplets of water running down the goose bumps of their exposed bodies.

"Well would you look at that, where did all your friends go? It seems that when it really matters, you're all alone," Beth hummed.

"Better I have no friends than friends like you," Said Colleen, struggling to hold in her anger.

"Better hope your brother doesn't say that in prison, he'll have to join the skinheads if he doesn't want to get stabbed like a bitch," said Anna.

No longer able to contain herself, Colleen screamed and tackled Anna, sending the two girls tumbling to the wet tile floor. With their naked bodies intertwined, Colleen managed to get on top of Anna and started beating her wildly with her fists, screaming as she did so. Anna shielded her face from most of the hits, but Colleen was holding nothing back.

Stars, blood, and scream-worthy pain, that was all Colleen remembered when the head of a floor hockey stick slammed into her jaw, breaking almost four teeth and knocking her to the floor. Even without the pain, the pressure unleashed upon her face felt like it was weighing upon her whole body, robbing her of the ability to move. Even with her eyes open, she couldn't see, and her mind was struggling to stay active. A sudden ice-cold spray of water revived her before she could lose consciousness, and she now found herself at the mercy of the three girls. All humanity and mercy had left their eyes, and they now bore sadistic grins.

"You're going to pay for that, you little cunt. Now you're our bitch," Anna laughed.

Before Colleen could do anything, Lindsay grabbed Colleen by the ankles and dragged her out to the middle of the shower area, flipping her over so that she was on her back. Beth got on top of her, kneeling over her head and using her knees to pin down her arms, with her dripping wet slit just inches from her face.

"We're going to fuck you like the slut you are!"

Crying in fear, Colleen was about to beg for mercy when Beth fully lowering herself onto her victim's face. Never before had Colleen even thought about being with a woman, but now the person that she despised more than anyone else was smothering her with her pussy. The feel of the vaginal lips against her own, the weight Beth's ass cheeks against the sides of her face, the smell of her insides, and the sound of the girls' cackling made her want to throw up in disgust and shame.

"Come on, lick it like a good bitch!" Beth ordered, ending Colleen's frantic kicks with a hard punch to the stomach.

The impact forced out what little air Colleen had in her lungs, and for ten brief terrifying seconds, she was unable to breathe. But when her lungs finally became usable again, that fear was reinstated by Beth putting her whole body weight on Colleen, forming an airtight seal with her pussy. Now she NEEDED to breathe, her lungs were crying out and every muscle she had felt like it would tear itself to shreds. She continued kicking, trying to get Beth off her.

"Lick it good and I'll let you breathe," Beth growled.

The pain in Colleen's chest overwhelmed her pride and she became still. Beth raised herself up enough to let Colleen get a few desperate gasps for air, and then began grinding her pussy against her victim's face.

"Lick it, you stupid whore!"

Sobbing in humiliation and anguish, Colleen extended her tongue and moved it back and forth against her captor's slit. There was no taste to it, at least as far as Colleen could tell, but that was only because her mouth was filled with blood from her busted teeth. Even without any real taste, the knowledge of what she was doing and what was being done to her made her cry harder than ever in her life, crying both out of disgust and self-loathing.

"That's it, stupid little whores like you should know their place. Hey, are you guys ready yet?"

Above her, Anna had grabbed her phone and was using it to record what was going on.

"Oh yeah, we're ready," she laughed, making sure that Colleen's whole naked body was in the shot.

Lindsay crouched down between Colleen's legs, holding the floor hockey stick in her hand.

"You've had this coming for so long," Lindsay purred, pressing the head of the handle against the entrance to Colleen's vagina, about to force it in.

Feeling the wood against her most sensitive spot, Colleen once again began kicking wildly, but Beth made her docile with a second brutal punch to the stomach. Unable to breathe, she tried desperately to beg them for mercy, to tell them that she was still a virgin. Her attempts were fruitless, and before she could reinforce her mind, the handle of the floor hockey stick was thrust inside her. The pain of her first ever penetration, done so brutally and by something so poorly shaped, left Colleen screaming at the top of her lungs in pain. She felt like the handle had completely ripped her open and had skewered all her organs. She had to look, she had to look and see and make sure that her whole lower body hadn't just been sawed open.

The girls all cackled like banshees as they heard her scream, but not without it being muzzled by Beth sitting on her face. Mixed with her scream was her crying, brought on by the heartless deflowering. Lindsay pulled the stick out, revealing eight inches of bloodstained wood. The sight of the blood made her face light up.

"Look at this! This skank is a virgin! It's like I said before, she'd be lucky if even her brother wanted to fuck her. But look at all this blood, you got my floor hockey stick dirty. You're going to pay for that."

Chewing on her lip, Lindsay forced the handle back into Colleen, making her cry out again. With the strength in her arms, she began moving the stick back and forth inside Colleen, penetrating her like the sex-machine of a solo porn flick. The thrusts eventually became easier for her, as her body adapted to lessen the damage the stick was inflicting. Against her disgust and hatred, against the pain electrocuting her body every second, her vagina was interpreting the trauma as arousing and lubricating itself.

"My legs are aching. Anna, switch with me," Beth grunted after the first few minutes, getting up off Colleen and finally letting her breathe fully.

Her arms wouldn't respond to her demands, the force of Beth's knees on them had cut off all circulation and left her arms completely asleep. As she looked up and saw Beth take the phone from Anna, her heart dropped.

"You're recording this?"

"Yep, and after we blur out our faces and names, we'll put it up anonymously and let the whole school see it. Looks like you're finally going to be popular," Anna said sadistically, taking Beth's place on top of her, but this time with her back to Lindsay.

"Now I can see your face as you lick me," she laughed, covering Colleen's mouth and nose with her pussy.

Like with Beth, Colleen wouldn't be allowed to breathe unless she obeyed, and even with Lindsay fucking her with the stick over and over on camera, she tried to maintain her pride.

"You're going to do as we say whether you like it or not!" Anna growled, reaching back and grabbing one of Colleen's breasts with brutal strength.

The pain of Anna's claw-like fingers strangling her breast made her scream in agony and open her mouth so that Anna could force the lips of her pussy between her own lips. Leaning back, Anna grabbed Colleen's other breast and squeezed it with the same strength, almost as if she was trying to rip them off. Unable to withstand the pain, Colleen frantically began licking Anna's pussy with everything she had, trying to appease her captor and lessen her agony. Finding her desperate lapping satisfactory, Anna lessened her hold on Colleen's breasts and instead began jiggling them and pinching her nipples.

"Yeah, look me in the eyes while you eat me out," Anna growled as she spat on Colleen's face.

With tears running down her temples, Colleen looked up into Anna's grinning face, while her cheeks inflating and contracting with the frenzied movements of her tongue and lips. She could feel the tiny stubbles of pubic hair between Anna's legs, likely to be shaved away later. Beneath those sharp sand-like stubbles, Anna's pussy was soft against her lips, as well as incredibly moist. By now, the pain of her deflowering had faded and her body was beginning to respond to the stimulation. Regardless of the throbbing pain in her mouth and the revulsion crushing her soul, Colleen was beginning to feel a sick form of pleasure as the hard wooden stick churned her moistening pussy. As much as she despised it, the taste of Anna's pussy was resonating and exciting her, as if she could taste the hormones in Anna's wetness and her own hormones were activating in response.

Arriving with almost instant spontaneity, familiar waves of warmth were rushing from the lips of her deflowered slit. Oh no, she was about to cum! If she ended up climaxing while being raped by three girls, she would never forgive herself. Her legs began squirming as she tried to fight back against the inevitable orgasm, but her attempts caught her captors' attention. Lindsay increased the strength of her thrusts, working the floor hockey stick as hard and fast in Colleen's pussy as she could, threatening to tear her open.

MMMMMMMMMMMH!

Colleen's muffled whine signaled her climax, and with fresh tears of shame pouring from her eyes, she felt tremor after tremor of pleasure rush through her body.

"Oh ho! This little whore really does like it rough. How many times did you cum from getting fucked like a worthless little fleshlight?" Anna teased, getting up off Colleen while Lindsay let go of her ankles.

With the bloody hockey stick still in her pussy, Colleen curled up into a ball on the wet tile floor and sobbed harder than ever in her life.

"Oh, we're not done with you yet. You still haven't learned your lesson," Beth cackled.

With her back to the group, Colleen tried to block everything out and sink into the farthest recesses of her mind, desperate the escape her pain and humiliation.

"Oh, I haven't seen that thing since spring break!" she heard Anna giggle shrilly. Colleen shuddered at the sound of her tormentor's voice, fearing what sort of new horror awaited her.

With cruel strength, Beth grabbed Colleen's hair and dragged her across the floor, forcing her to unravel from her fetal position. Flipped onto her back, Colleen's attempts to fight against this new assault failed, for like a snake lunging out for a fatal strike, she felt something large, bulbous, and rubber enter her mouth. It was a purple dildo, the size of a cucumber and secured to a harness that Beth was wearing.