Internal Screaming Novels & Stories

I screamed, they are everywhere, I couldn't escape it as I opened my mouth and gasped for air. My palms folded into fists, pulling the bed sheets as I chewed, my teeth clenched from the euphoria that resurfaced. “ Gaaaa.” I screamed. “ Oh oh oh.” I muttered, they reduced their tempo. Their hands moved, rubbing slowly at the top as they spread my pussy and my anus. They slipped their fingers inside, massaging my insides with both their fingers and dildo. Fucking menaics! This was so sweet, my lips were thin as I bit hard on the lower one so that I wouldn't let out a shrill.

She screams. My head’s a fucking mess. I can’t think straight. Can’t even tell what the hell’s happening to me tonight. I just need to empty myself. Need to feel nothing. Need to stop seeing those freezing, aqua eyes mocking me every time I close mine. So I move harder. Rougher. Like if I push fast enough, brutal enough, I can outrun whatever the hell crawled under my skin back in that kitchen. I crush my mouth against Sarah’s again, swallowing her moans. I don’t want to see her. I just want sensation. Heat. Pressure. Anything loud enough to drown out my own head.

I screamed. Not like a girl who was embarrassed. Not like a girl who was sorry. I screamed like a bitch in heat with no shame left, no thoughts left, no fucking oxygen left in her lungs because her pussy was spasming so hard around Daddy’s cock I felt like I was gonna black out from how fucking good it was. My back slammed harder into the wall. My legs wrapped tighter around him. My nails dragged down his shoulders as my body clenched and jerked like I was being electrocuted from the inside out.

He mumbled before his mouth latched on the tender flesh. I clapped my palm on my mouth and moaned out loud. Langelo twirled his tongue, in and out like he was screwing a nail into a wood. I arched my back, rocking my hips to meet his moves. His teeth scraped my inner flesh and I screamed out loud, my screams probably heard by the workers inside but Langelo didn't care and neither did I. "I wanted to hear you." He said with a Sly smile. "Now, let's see how hard you can scream when you cum in my mouth." A finger plunged into me, the very second Langelo's tongue dived in.

He growled, sweat dripping, muscles armouring over me. “Too late to say that shit. I’m deeply gone, close—fuck, I feel it burning. You should’ve screamed it before I lost my goddamn mind. Now? You’re just noise under me. I come first.” My throat burnt as I screamed the word again—“ASYLUM!” my voice raw from screaming, begging, and crying —but he only groaned, his eyes dark and crazed. He shoved deeper. His cock felt like it was splitting me open from the inside.

Jack yells. “Stop what boy?" The man laughs again. "Stop laughing! Stop talking! Just stop!" Jack could feel his sanity slipping. He felt like a wild animal screaming at the top of his lungs. The voice had no desire of stopping. It got louder and became more annoying. Jack dug his fingers into his skin. It was very painful. His fingernails felt like they were going to pop through the surface. He hoped that this action would balance out the pain he already felt inside his head but there was no comparison. The laughter was like a whip thrashing inside him. Jack couldn't help but scream. He felt himself weakening. Jack could barely speak.

Anything. With a primal scream, I lash out, my fists connecting with the edge of the desk. The solid wood cracks under the force, but it’s not enough. I flip it over, sending papers, pens, and everything else crashing to the floor. My hands become weapons, smashing through anything in reach. Glass shatters, furniture splinters—I don’t care. All I care about is the chaos inside me, the storm I can’t control. I fling objects with reckless abandon, the sound of destruction echoing around the room. My fists slam into walls, shelves, whatever’s near. The pain of impact is dull compared to the anguish ripping me apart from the inside.

I’m talking to myself, but the words are gasoline on the fire, igniting every filthy corner of my mind. My fantasy spirals, gets darker, wilder, unhinged. It’s not sweet lovemaking. It’s him, shoving me against the breakroom fridge, his hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my screams, his other hand tearing my tights to shreds as he rams into me from behind, balls slapping my clit, cockhead battering my cervix until I squirt all over the linoleum. “Yeah, like that,” I whimper, matching the rhythm in my head, fingers pistoning in and out, curling to hit that spot that makes my vision blur.

The banging on the door and windows. My family have tried to reach me, but I’m locked away deep. Even put my phone in the waste disposal. I just want to be alone. I chuckle as I twirl the blade in my hand and, in a fit of rage, I scream and throw it at the wall. I pick up bottle after bottle and smash them against the walls and windows. With each bottle I smash and every scream I release, I feel that monster in my head purr with delight. “Do it! They will be happy you have gone.” I clutch my head and scream.

I felt so full, maybe even too full, but I never wanted for this to stop. “I’m so close,” I cried out. The words did nothing but encourage them both to slam inside me faster, rougher, reaching places I didn’t think could be reached. At this point, I was sure my mates were planning to actually rearrange my inner organs to their liking. The faster they slammed inside me, the tighter their grips became, the louder I got. I was so lost I couldn’t form a word, all that left my lips were moans, cries and desperate sounds, encouraging them both to do their worst.