15. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The ballroom is cold. The kind of cold that sinks into your bones, chilling you from the inside out, making your soul feel like it's been dipped in ice.

I stand on the stage, my chest heaving, the skull mask clinging to my face like a second skin. The air's thick with a pungent, musky scent that's clawing its way into my lungs until I can't breathe anything else.

Adrian hovers to my right—too far to touch, too close to forget. "You've come this far. All that's left now is to let go completely. To offer yourself."

My teeth clench together as I breathe through my nose.

One final fucking act and then I'm free.

Too bad I can't burn this place down on my way out.

I move toward the thick, black silicone dildo at the center of the stage, a bottle of lube resting beside it. At least this time Adrian won't be fucking me. No one will.

It's a solo act. I can do this.

Taking a deep breath, I drop to my knees and set up the dildo so it stands tall and straight, like the cursed centerpiece of this fucked-up exhibition. Then I pour lube onto my hand and coat the rubber shaft.

"Fucking hate you," I mutter under my breath as I spread more of the lube onto my fingers.

The audience watches as I reach behind myself, stretching myself open. My pulse is so loud in my ears, it drowns out everything else.

Almost.

I slip in a second finger, then a third, pushing deep and slow. They slide in smoothly, the lube mixing with the heat of my body, and despite everything, my cock thickens between my legs.

"Keep going, Jasper."

I turn my head, glaring at Adrian. "Shut the fuck up."

After removing my fingers, I position myself, then lower onto the dildo. My ass swallows the thick head with a slow, wet stretch. I hiss at the burn, at the pleasure, hating how good it feels. Then I push down farther, groaning involuntarily as it fills me.

"Such a beautiful sight."

I snarl, my upper lip twitching, but I won't look at him. Won't give him the satisfaction. My hands grip my thighs as I move up and down the length of the dildo mechanically, detached from myself.

"Ride it, Jasper. Ride it for them. For him."

"Maybe I should stab you with the dildo, give them all quite a show."

"Jasper—"

"Shut the fuck up, Adrian. You want a final performance, then just shut up."

And he does. He remains quiet as I continue to work the toy filling my ass, and soon enough I'm riding it. My dick bobs as I bounce up and down, my breath coming faster, harder. My nails dig into my thighs, dragging up as I throw my head back, moaning.

The pleasure builds, a smoldering fire deep in my gut, and I hate myself for it. For the way my body betrays me.

A cold breeze whispers across my skin, and I pause.

"He's here."

I look out at the audience, but I can't see it—not fully. Just an outline, a dark smear in the corner of my vision. The air around it warps, distorts, flickers like static on a broken screen. It has no defined shape, no clear form—just a mass of shifting shadows, as if darkness itself took on a physical form.

"Adrian," I whisper, my voice cracking.

"Keep going, Jasper. One last performance. Don't stop."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. Something in my body is different, like strings are being pulled by an invisible force, because now I'm driving myself down onto the dildo, fucking it as if my life depends on this moment.

And maybe it does. Maybe there's more than just my freedom at stake here.

The entity looms closer, engulfing the space between us. Its breath—or something like breath—brushes against my neck, cold and wet, like a phantom tongue. My stomach knots. I want to flinch away, but instead, my body arches into the feeling.

"Well done, Jasper." Adrian's voice resonates from somewhere behind me, but it feels distant now, like it's coming from beneath water or through thick fog. "Just a little more."

My body rocks against the dildo, harder now, frantic. My nails dig deep into my thighs, drawing blood, as I chase after the pleasure. The thick silicone brushes against my prostate, lighting up every nerve in my body.

The entity's hands—its real hands—descend on me, cold and rough, scratching against my skin.

No, not hands.

Claws.

They scrape down my back, digging into my flesh, leaving welts that sting and burn. Its fingers—long, thin, impossibly cold—wrap around my throat, squeezing lightly. My breath catches, my vision narrowing as I choke on the air, and my body jerks, forcing me to slam down harder on the dildo.

"Oh god."

More hands—too many fucking hands—suddenly cover my body. They're all over me, groping, stroking, scratching. My nipples are pulled, pinched, the sudden sharpness making me cry out. One of the hands slides between my legs, gripping my cock, stroking it with a rough, too-tight rhythm that has me gasping for breath.

I'm drowning but not in water.

The entity's fingers—if I can even call them that—force their way into my mouth, cold and invasive, sliding over my tongue. I gag, but it doesn't care. It keeps pushing, silencing me, filling my mouth until I can barely breathe.

My ass clenches around the dildo, my body shaking uncontrollably as I come so fucking close to the edge.

Then I'm floating into the air like I weigh nothing, the dildo slipping out of me with a wet pop. I hover above the stage, suspended by something unseen, and I can't fucking move.

Something cold presses against my hole. It's larger, thicker, its surface rough, like ice-covered stone. It pushes inside me, unrelenting, stretching me impossibly wide. I scream, or I try to, but the sound is muffled by the fingers still fucking my mouth.

Its hands are everywhere, pulling at me, scratching me, fucking owning me. One hand pumps my cock with rough, wet strokes, while its thick length slams into my prostate until my vision blurs.

My head lolls backward, my eyes barely focusing as I stare out at the audience.

They're getting off on my fucking destruction. Every last one of them. Their masked faces are turned toward me, their hands working furiously beneath their clothes. There's no humanity in their hollow eyes.

And Adrian is there, among them now, his dark eyes locked on mine as he strokes his cock. He doesn't look detached anymore. He looks hungry.

My body is on the brink of release, desperate for that final push. But it doesn't come. The pleasure stays just out of reach, torturously close but impossible to grasp.

"Give yourself to me completely," the entity whispers, its cold tendrils wrapping around my mind.

I try to resist, but there's nothing left. No fight. No strength. Just this aching, desperate need.

So I do it.

I fucking let go.

As the entity surges inside me, an icy burn spreads across my face, the mask fusing with my skin in a grotesque union. The pain mingles with the pleasure, creating a sensation so intense it threatens to shatter my very being.

My dick explodes, thick ropes of cum splattering across the entity's shadowy hands and my heaving chest. But this isn't a normal orgasm—it's relentless, unending. Each pulse sends shockwaves through my body, my muscles spasming beyond my control.

"Please. It's too much."

But it keeps going, even as my body shakes violently. Even as I sob. It just keeps pulling me further and further into its cold, dark embrace.

And then, everything goes still.

The hands slip away, the cold tendrils retreat, and I'm left hanging there, suspended in the air, empty.

Hollow.

Drained.

There's nothing left of me.

"You are mine now. Forever."