Creepy Explorations: Volume 1 (Lemon)

Noir

"Oh, for God's sake, what now?!" the completely fed-up-at-this-point Noah rants as he stomps for the door. "Is that hacker guy gonna 'repay the favor' of me getting the heat off of him?! Did The Breather find me again?! Does The Executioner wanna do another show?!"

He twists the knob as far as it'll go and yanks the door open.

There's no one there.

Just a ding-dong-ditch, probably some bored kid.

Maybe Noah's fifth night of hell really is over.

The tension defuses. The threat of a fourth intruder for the night begins to dissipate. That is, until Noah turns around. The balcony door is wide open. A gust of wind washes in from the cold New York night. He scurries over to shut it and save his half-naked body from the 40-degree autumn chill. He looks down to his feet. For a moment, you don't understand why, but then he takes a step back to show that he was standing in...boot-prints. A faint trail of boot-prints indenting the beige carpet below and leading from the balcony into Noah's living room, only noticed by his naked and sensitive soles.

Someone's broken in.

In a knee-jerk reaction, he flicks a light-switch off, flushing his dorm with darkness, vaults over the kitchen counter, and shrinks into the fetal position up against it, filling most of the shot with his knees as he cowers behind a bar. He takes a big inhale behind the camera before holding his breath so nothing but silence can linger. He shivers and hides in the shadows, knowing, just knowing, that there's someone, somewhere, in his apartment.

But where?

The question is answered when Noah peers the camera up and a chalk white face looms over his.

He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he fires up and twirls around, filming the home invader as they ominously stalk from the other side of the bar. He turns back around to escape only to almost bump into a black brick wall that turns out to be a second intruder. 

"Boo."

Noah yelps and stumbles back, turning around. In hindsight it makes sense. One distracted us with the door knock whilst the other broke in through the patio. Anyways, the first intruder is magically on the other side of the counter now, almost like she teleported there to leave Noah completely sandwiched behind two hourglass figures, both locked in tight t-shirts and jeans of solid black to blend in with the darkness. The only thing that stands out is the Caucasian skin on their slender arms and hands and the equally colorless, plastic masks that keep them without any faces or humanity. You remember a passing status update Noah didn't really bother reading when he was browsing DarkBook at the beginning of the video.

"Has anyone heard of 'Noir'? I've been skimming through tons of Dark Web conspiracy boards and some say they're this cult of creepy home invaders dressed in all black except for white masks."

You also recall seeing two menacing silhouettes stalking Noah from the hallway after his run-in with Mrs. Kumiega. At the time you assumed they were just apartment residents or staff, but now you realize Noir has had a shadowy, ever-lurking presence the whole time. And now they've finally decided to show themselves. Two fists punch out from underneath the camera, right through each of Noah's armpits and putting him in a Full Nelson Hold. He drops the camera to the tile floor so you get an extremely low angle of the nonconsensual threesome that's about to unfold before your very eyes.

Noah struggles and thrashes against the grapple of the Noir cultist behind him, but of course his strength doesn't match hers. "SOMEBODY HELP-!" he tries to yell before she slaps both her palms over his face, muffling his exclamations.

The other cultist lifts up her mask a bit and sheathes Noah's shaft, completely exposed thanks to the SWAT team's undressing, with her mouth while sinking five of her fingertips into the underside of his scrotum to harmlessly scratch and fondle it. The perfectly calculated blowjob dilutes his calls for help into mellow moans of an unwelcome satisfaction, to such an extent that the Noir member from behind doesn't even need to gag him anymore. Thus, she takes after her partner's example of baring her lips by scooching her mask up so she can nibble Noah's nape. In the meanwhile, she also slips her arms underneath his sweatshirt so it rides all the way up to his neck and exposes his nipples, which she starts churning and twisting without a sliver of mercy. His eyes immediately roll into the back of his head whilst five sensations show him no mercy: the soppy paintbrush of the first follower's tongue glossing the erogenous zones on his neck, two piercing masochistic pleasures boiling in his chest through each his nipples, the dark and wet cave of the second's mouth wagging up and down the veins of his cock, and five fingernails acting as acupuncture for his sack as it ferments a vigorous orgasm.

This orgasm isn't seen, however, as the apostle on her knees spawncamps it and sucks every cell of sperm Noah has left in his balls, using his urethra as a straw. One cultist's lips detach from his crotch and the other from his scruff, who then shoves Noah to the ground and towards the camera so he fills the screen as he lands on his hands and knees. He swivels around onto his rear and Noir has disappeared off-screen as quickly and mysterious as they appeared. Like ghosts. Noah fiercely darts his head around his whole apartment from behind the kitchen counter, in desperate search for something to humanize them. Saliva, footprints, moved furniture, anything. But nothing. They've left not a trace. He's survived a hit, he was almost mutilated into a vegetable, he was swatted, he had his home invaded, all within an hour... After basking in the terror of getting fucked by the seventh psychotic woman tonight alone, in addition to the knowledge that all of these criminals are in the world and have gotten off scot-free, Noah takes a deep breath, surely about to go off on an emotional breakdown of a rant. He's not even given that, however, as there's another knock knock knock. This time it's his parents returning home, from the sounds of it. 

"Noah honey!" the sweet voice of a middle-aged mother sings from behind the door. "We're home! Be a dear and unlock the door for us please, our arms are loaded with groceries!"

"Uh, coming, Mom!" Noah shouts before giving you a rushed sendoff, this time in a whisper. "Sorry for the crappy video this week, guys, I know I only spent five minutes on the actual Shadow Web, the rest was just been me getting...Ugh... I'm debating on whether or not I should even bother uploading this. I'll try harder next time, I promise, just...Later..."

Your host quickly shuts the camera off so the video clocks in at 29:51, only a few seconds before his screen recorder ran out of space anyways. 

(If you're interested in reading Volumes 2 and 3, go here: https://www.deviantart.com/xxhotgarbagexx, here: https://www.fanfiction.net/~xxhotgarbagexx, or here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxHotGarbagexX. Sorry Wattpad won't let me upload anymore)