Vanellope Von Schweetz groggily opened her eyes to darkness. The air felt damp, and a faint musty odor lingered around her. As she gradually regained consciousness, her surroundings came into focus, revealing the confines of a dimly lit basement. The cold touch of metal against her wrists drew her attention, and a sense of foreboding crept over her.
Blinking against the shadows, Vanellope tried to move her arms, only to realize they were bound by chains. Panic fluttered in her chest as she tugged against the restraints, the clinking of metal echoing in the confined space.
A shiver ran down Vanellope's spine as she scanned her surroundings, searching for any clues about how she ended up in this ominous place. The darkness seemed to press in on her, and she strained her eyes to discern shapes in the murkiness. It was silent other than her own uneasy breaths.
She could hear the familiar sound of her heartbeat quickening as she took in the sight of her usual clothes, now torn and dirtied, a stark contrast to their usual vibrant appearance. Her messy, dark hair framed her face, and loose strands clung to her cheeks. The usually cheerful and mischievous expression was replaced by a furrowed brow. Her signature mint-green hoodie and brown skirt, which were once pristine, now bore evidence of wear and tear. The fabric hung loosely from her shoulders, revealing slight rips and smudges. Dirt stains marked her once bright and colorful leggings.
Vanellope's mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of memory that might explain her predicament. Fear and confusion intertwined as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn’t remember what was happening. It all started with her going to the candy store with her friends, and now she was groggy, confused, and chained to a wall.
Suddenly, she knew she was no longer alone. She could hear the sound of a door creaking open, and the sound of slow but deliberate footsteps on the ground. The person with her was purposefully trying to be silent, but there was no hiding his presence. Her breath was shallow but rapid, and she was about to scream when she felt a hand wrap around the back of her neck. She shivered. The hand was rough and warm, and so much bigger than her own.
He circled around her, but she couldn’t see him. He pushed her head down so she wouldn’t be able to raise it, and all she could see was his pants, a pair of old worn jeans that she knew didn’t belong to anyone she knew.
She wasn’t sure if she should speak… or plead. Maybe she could change his mind about this whole thing, maybe she could buy some time before someone came to help her. The words were lodged in her throat though, unable to get out no matter how hard she tried.
He pulled his pants down without a word along with his boxers, and his cock sprang free, right in front of her face. She’d never seen one before, but knew exactly what it was for.
His hands had moved around her and he sunk his fingers into her hair roughly, like she somehow belonged to him. He tugged on them as he pulled downwards, like he was combing her, letting it all fall around her shoulders. She could hear his breathing, like a prey that was having a hard time holding back.
She’d never felt fear like this. Not even close. There was absolutely no hope for her, and she would be foolish to think so.
She could feel how intensely hard he was as he thrust forward and began pushing himself against her face. The move was quite gentle in itself. He dragged his cock across her cheeks on either side, then pressed it smoothly against her lips, pressing against the softness. It was the size of her face, and she knew if he tried to stick it into her mouth it would be an impossible fit.
She was wrong though. This wasn’t his plan at all.
He used his hand, wrapped it around the base of his shaft, and aligned his cock against her eye. What? She thought, utterly confused. She didn’t really have time to think about it, or scream, because he didn’t waste a second before shoving his cock fully into her eyeball.
Then the screaming began.
It was the most excruciating pain she’d ever experienced. She screamed, thrashed, did anything she could to try to stop it.
She tried to push him with her hands, a fight or flight reflex, but he was much, much larger than her. “Please… please…” she begged over and over, but this seemed to turn him on even more.
He began thrusting inside of her, making the socket larger and larger with every thrust. Blood began dripping down her face and onto the floor, though she wasn’t able to comprehend or see any of it.
Her other eye began crying, the tears and blood soaking into her mouth as she let out cries of pain over and over again. She was convulsing now, like she was having a seizure, and still she begged for him to stop, her voice becoming quieter and quieter with every thrust.
The man was beginning to really enjoy it, and grunted with each thrust, which felt like it was embedding itself deep inside her brain.
She lost consciousness all at once. It was too much pain… too much…
Penelope never gained her consciousness back, and never experienced the man finishing inside of her as he grabbed his cock and pushed as deep as he possibly could. He could feel all the softness of her inside of her head, and didn’t even notice when she was no longer there with him.
The cum soaked into her, and he wondered if he should do a second round with the other eye before disposing of the body.
Then, he wondered if any of her friends would like to be his next victim.