Internal Screaming Novels & Stories

My palm was flat against my clit now, grinding in fast circles while I fucked myself with two fingers. The wet, sloppy sounds echoed in the quiet kitchen. God, I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream his name so loud the whole house heard me begging for my best friend’s father to come fuck me. My finger curled deeper, thrusting faster, hitting that perfect spot that made me see stars. It still wasn’t enough.

I thought he would put it just like that, but he didn’t. I squeaked when a pinch happened. I looked at him madly and he just let his eyes grow bigger, as if telling me that I should get my act straight or I would lose the opportunity to seek revenge. Calming myself would never be easy, but by just thinking that I’m doing this for my mom and I, all the bad things that I will experience will automatically be fine with me, even if it means that I will suffer along the way.

I screamed as he entered his dick inside my tiny hole and he is not inside yet. I could feel my walls tightening. I felt like they were being stretched. My head fell back in ecstasy, screaming as he entered. The last thing I remembered seeing was his cock disappearing from my ass. "Shhh, angel, don't scream. It hurts less if you don't," Caleb put his hand on my mouth. His dick is still buried inside my pussy and the first man is entering inside my asshole. Thank goddess as he entered inside half.

I spit on my fingertips and smear it over a nipple and pinch again because the drug makes every wet touch feel like a tongue. I keep grinding the chair edge and working two fingers in and out at the same time, wrist flexing, cunt gripping. I talk to myself because the house is empty and I am too far gone to care how I sound. “Fuck. Come on. Fill it. Come on… oh God! I need a dick!” I come once, a sharp little squirt that startles me and spatters my inner thigh and the seat. It only makes the emptiness worse. Tears of irritation prick my eyes. “Please.. fuck! I’m—I need a dick!” I cried out.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the high-ceilinged room, a wet, frantic percussion that made my gorge rise to the back of my throat. ​Sienna wasn’t screaming for me. She wasn't reaching out for her "King." She was chanting Silas’s name in a broken, rhythmic prayer, her fingers digging deep, red furrows into his back as he thrust into her with a depth that seemed meant to claim her very marrow. Her breasts were heaving and jiggling with every impact, her pale skin slick with a mixture of sweat and the dark red wine Silas had spilled in his haste to possess her.

The pressure in my head mounted, a relentless surge that threatened to overwhelm my senses. In a burst of frustration, I released a guttural scream, the sound echoing in the confines of the bathroom. The tension in my body was released as the scream echoed off the walls, a cathartic release that momentarily eased the turmoil within. My teeth clenched in determination, a futile attempt to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

My pulse hammered in my ears as I thumbed the zipper of my jeans open, my hand sliding inside to find myself aching and rock-hard. I began to move, a slow, steady friction that quickly spiraled out of control. “Sandra, fuck,” I hissed into the empty room, my heart racing. The rhythm on the screen matched the desperation in my hand. As the video reached its peak, I felt that familiar, white-hot tension snap. I came just as Sandra let out a final, shattering scream on the tape, the two of us finishing together. I slumped back, breathless, staring at the static on the screen.

“Tell the entire building how desperate you are for me. Let them all hear what a needy little slut you become when I touch you.” Tears of frustration and overwhelming need slipped down my flushed cheeks and my body shook, every nerve screaming for release. My voice cracked as I finally screamed the words he wanted, loud enough that they bounced off the walls and likely carried beyond the bedroom door. “I’m your desperate slut! I need to come so badly it hurts! My pussy is dripping everywhere and I can feel it running down my thighs. I’m shaking. I’m crying. Please let me come on your fingers. I’ll scream even louder if you want. Just please don’t stop, please, Damien!”

Max depth. I scream. It’s an animal sound, raw and broken. The climax hits me so hard my vision goes black. My body clamps down on the silicone intruder, squeezing it as I squirt, soaking the sheets beneath me. I’m shaking violently, my heels drumming against the mattress. The sensory overload is total—the pinch, the fullness, the noise, the voice. Echo finally slows the toy to a gentle pulse, letting me ride out the aftershocks. I lie there, devastated. Wrecked.

I needed to release it, to scream into the void. “Fuckkkk! I hate you Juliana, you bitch! I hate you Giovanni!” I yelled, the words tearing from my throat, raw and hoarse. My voice echoed in the confined space of the backseat, a futile roar against an unyielding cage. It was a scream to no one, for no one, a desperate release of the venom that coursed through my veins. The sound died quickly, leaving only the deafening silence and the bitter taste of my own impotence.