#BHF 2000 Follower Raffle

[bisexual-horror-fan]

the who; the grabber x fem!reader, im sorry, im self indulgent!

the where; tied to his chair. ankles to each leg, hands behind you, maybe even around the shoulders so you sit up straight

the kinks; praise and degradation, bondage, squirting, punishment and reward

song inspo, optional of course; desire meg myers im your man leonard cohen these things she wants revenge a pain that im used to depeche mode

dialouge prompts, also optional of course;

there's no need to be nervous. i want you crawling out of your skin with desire baby, i could do this all day

what can i say? congratulations doesn't do it justice. first and foremost, you deserve every one of those followers and more. im lucky to have been here since pretty early id say and seeing you grow? i can't describe it. and getting to be your friend too? i mean you can tell looking at what im thinking. im just so lucky to have you. and just everything you do.

not to mention the fandom. who really do owe you the biggest thank you! you're amazing Bex and I can't wait for a hundred thousand followers more of content

Oh Bug darling. Just, you are fucking fantastic and wonderful and I love being your friend and so much more that I just can never express enough. You are gonna make me cry. I hope that you love this, I spent a lot of time and effort on it! Not much more to say but, enjoy it. 

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.2K. The Grabber X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Use Of Good Girl. Kidnapping. Man Handling. Belting. Punishment. Rope Play. Bondage. Praise. Degradation. Crying Reader. Punishment. Reward. Oral Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Implications Of Sex. Dirty Talk. Squirting. Begging. Dub-Con.

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Give And Take.

—

He wanted you to be bad. 

He wanted you to disobey. If you didn’t it means he couldn’t punish you, he needed probable cause, a reason that was worthy. He simply couldn’t just do it out of nowhere. He wasn’t a monster. 

There were rules and if you didn’t do something bad, if you didn’t play the game he couldn’t win after all. So maybe he pushed you just a little bit, there wasn’t anything wrong with introducing temptation to the mix. 

You were being frustrating, a tease, there is only so much he can take before drastic measures need to be taken.

So when the door was left open when you woke up from your nap, knowing it had been a long while since he had brought you food, and he was upstairs cooking, well aware the smell could reach you down there, it was only a matter of time. 

He listened hard over the sound of the frying pan, he wasn’t even by the stove, opting to stay near the door, out of sight, his body taut in anticipation. Ready. Waiting.

He heard you on that one step midway up that always creaked too loudly and he knew the time for some real fun was almost upon him. 

You had never done this before, you felt nervous as you came near the top of the stairs. Realistically he wasn’t a good cook, the plates of food he had given you were okay at best but fuck, it smelt amazing right now. The best ingredient is hunger after all, isn’t it? You look around the kitchen and he isn’t anywhere to be seen. That is odd. Something didn’t feel right, like something was wrong. This was way too easy. 

Also, him leaving a pan going on the stove top? Dangerous. Your captor was a lot of things but stupid didn’t seem like one of them. He seemed careful, thoughtful and purposeful. Maybe you were playing right into his hand.

Your stomach didn’t care. The sound it made pushed you forward, you were too fucking hungry right now to care. You took the last step up, off of the stairs and onto the kitchen tile, you didn’t stop, you got another three whole steps, making sure you were fully into the room but nowhere near the stove when he was on you. 

One foot fall is all that registered to your left, you perked up, straightened but you couldn’t even turn your head before you felt a strong hand on your shoulder and his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as you yelped in surprise. You feel the cool edge of his mask against the side of your face, you attempted to struggle but you are weak, tired, so fucking hungry and he is just so much stronger. 

“What are you doing out of your cage?” 

His tone was sharper than any knife you were sure could be found in this kitchen. You didn’t respond right away, mouth opening and closing, still in shock by how fast he was on you, he didn’t like that. He shakes you and asks, impatient, “Well?”

You winced and said, “I-I smelt the food and the door was open, I’m so, so hungry I…I couldn’t wait.” 

He tsk’d behind the mask and shook his head, “Can’t wait five more minutes to eat?” You nod, “It’s been a long time, please?”

He laughed, “Oh no, you are gonna have to wait a while longer now.” 

You whimpered, head hanging as his grip tightened further and you asked, “How long?”

He hummed in consideration, kept you waiting, made you squirm in anticipation before saying, “I thiiiiiink…at least till you learn your lesson.” 

Well what the fuck did that mean?

You were terrified. He was tying you down to a kitchen chair after he turned the stove off, he had no problem getting you into the chair and the stern look from behind the mask made you obey and sit still and do as he wanted. He tied each ankle to one leg of the chair, your hands behind you, he even went further, he tied your shoulders, tightening the rope making your body jerk as he said, “Sit. Up. Straight.”

You swallowed hard, a short nod as he finished tying you down and testing the strength of the ropes. He was standing in front of you, looking down at you and you back up at him. 

There was a solid beat of silence, rife with tension and he started to open his belt and your eyes broke away, flicking down and watched as he took it off and slid it out of the loops with one fluid motion that made you flinch. He doubled the belt over, smacking one palm with the end of the belt as he said, “There’s no need to be nervous.” 

Somehow you don’t believe him. 

The belt comes down on your thigh and you can’t do a damn thing but cry out. Your leg attempts to jerk but you are tied too well, no hope of getting away. The message was clear without him saying it, no matter the circumstances, no matter how you felt, your hunger, what your body needed, whatever it was screaming for, was irrelevant, the open door? Inconsequential. What he wanted was paramount. He wanted you in the basement? 

You stay in the fucking basement. 

As he hit your thighs over and over with the belt, it acted like a silent conversation. Even as you yelped and cried, as the tears started to fall, brimming before spilling over several hits in, burning as they poured down your cheeks. Your breathing was erratic, shoulders shaking as much as the rope allowed, you finally spoke, a soft and broken, “Please…”

He stopped, your thighs hurt, felt like they were on fire, your legs were trembling as much as possible in their restraints. You were sweating, your body was even more tired, you looked up at him, face wet and he prompted, “Please?...Please what?” 

“Puh-please stop. I-I’m sorry I came up here. M sorry I didn’t listen…”

He tutted and got down on one knee, reaching up, wiping your tears away with his thumb on the hand that wasn’t still gripping the belt. “I dunno if I believe you-”

A sudden burst of energy as you rambled out, “Please! I-I am, I really am!” He hummed and you babbled out further, “Can I prove it to you? Some-somehow? How cah-can I fix it?”

The look in your eyes. The sheer need. You meant it. You would do anything to please him right now and get back in his good graces. It was exciting. He liked seeing that look, he wondered how he could shift that, the need and desire, mould it into something else. 

He wanted to make you feel, more than pain, more than fear. It was an interesting feeling, one he wasn’t used to, he decided to go with it, play around in this space. His hands met your hips, you jerked slightly, they moved down, sliding gently and carefully over your now severely bruised thighs. “You know…”

Your brows pinched together, looking at him, utterly confused by the sudden tenderness of his touch, “-you took it so well. No complaining. And you want to make it better, want to fix it. Maybe I can forgive you.”

You asked softly, “Yeah?”

He nodded, “If you indulge me.” 

“In what?” 

You couldn’t see his grin behind his mask but his eyes gave it away. 

He made you look up, told you not to fucking look at him, if you did he would, “-beat you way fucking worse than what you just got-”

And you believed him that time. 

So this is how you found yourself, chair tilted back, his hands on your lower back after he adjusted you, pivoted your hips, cut your clothing from you and gave himself access. You weren’t sure what he was playing at, had no idea what he would do, could hear and feel him but not see him, refusing to look away from the one water stained spot on the ceiling above your head. It was when you felt his warm breath on your thighs that you clued in what he had in mind. 

You were starving. 

You thought you were hungry for food, and on some level, you still were but that need was pushed so far back in your mind, no longer a main concern. His mouth made contact between your thighs, you were all too aware of this other hunger that had gone unsatisfied for so long. You were so concerned with other stuff ever since he took you and hid you in his basement but now you were reminded of indulgences of your life before, of pleasure, of what it was like to feel good. 

The way he went about it could be described as curious, eager, and that one word that kept popping up, hunger. 

His tongue flicked up through your folds, started low, tasting at the source, probing your leaking hole before dragging up and over your clit. Then starting his descent, his head dipping back down, hot breath fanning over soaked flesh and he began the motion again. It didn’t last long before he was changing it up. Next, seeing how deep he can get his tongue inside you, making your breathing pick up yet again until he was tired of that, and once he started to focus more on your clit? Circling and teasing, tracing and sucking, his pace soon became fervent as you reacted bigger and bigger. You squirmed as much as you could, moaning, panting, your eyes soon weren’t able to focus on that spot on the ceiling any longer. 

He did something that nearly made you scream, sucking that most sensitive part of you through his teeth, into his mouth, tongue lathing over it, totally assaulting it from all sides, encased in the warm, wet, heat of him. You were shivering, almost overstimulated, it felt overwhelming, you were leaking obscenely and had no clue what to do with yourself.

What happened this afternoon?

You came upstairs for food and then all of this happened. You were whimpering, whining, you started to beg, incoherent and he pulled back, a laugh as he said, “Baby, I could do this all day.” 

His mouth latched back on and you released a choked gasp. He didn’t let up, he practically forced your orgasm from you with sheer force and determination. Not like it took much. All in all he wasn’t down there that long until you were cumming on his tongue. 

Your head was spinning. Exhausted, you couldn’t take more, soaked with sweat, between your thighs on the chair was a mess of your own juice and his spit and you just wanted to eat and nap. Even though your mind was tired, your body was still buzzing, craving, wanting more still and as if he sensed that, the chair was flat on the ground again. “Keep looking up.”

You nodded, and then you felt his hands again, one between your legs, two fingers inside of you in an instant and your body jolted. You clenched around his fingers and your mouth fell open, a loud moan spilling out. “You’re awful.”

You wanted to look at him, wanted to question him with your gaze, instead with your mouth still hanging open you made a sound to prompt him to elaborate and he did so. “You come up here, looking for food, trying to survive and now look at you. Writhing on my fingers. What a good girl you’ve turned out to be.” 

He practically purred it, you feel his wet mouth on your neck as his fingers moved, fucked in and out of you. “I wanted you to be bad but you right now? Trying to be good?”

You listened, tried to as pleasure was overtaking, he had found that spot inside that made your toes curl, “Trying to listen? It’s-” 

A heavy shuddering breath left him. “It’s intoxicating. I want more. I want you crawling out of your skin with desire.” 

You sure felt like you were. You couldn’t stay silent, more moans leaving your chapped and dry lips, he curled his fingers into that sweet spot over and over and you felt that familiar build. You were so turned on and from that previous orgasm you were a goner, totally done in with the pace he had, him so close, what he was saying. You were helpless, choking out, “I-I’m gonna-”

Is all you manage to get out before your walls squeezed and fluttered around his fingers and you came, more than that, you gushed. You squirted into the palm of his hand and the seat of the chair, eyes squeezed shut and it was his turn to make a sound of surprise at that. He didn’t stop, he went harder, until you were shuddering and begging him to, “Please-please-please, stop, I can’t, no more-”

He didn’t let up until he was satisfied. It was only then he pulled his fingers out, he sucked them clean, your neck hurt from staring up at the ceiling.

You wanted to drop your head but you weren’t about to risk another beating. “Oh sweet thing, you are too fun to play with.”

He praised you. “This is a really fun game. I wanna keep playing.” 

You felt him, hot and velvety nudging against your still clenching hole, “All afternoon long.”

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Perchance may I ask for Cam!AU Leslie Vernon please?

-NITL

Nightmare I am so fucking happy you asked for this! I adore the Cam!AU! So, so fucking much. I love doing this AU and adore digging deep into it, hope you all love this, there is more Cam!AU to come in this raffle, just you wait! Let’s get into it, yeah? Also massive credit to Bug or @darkestamralime for the main meat of this fic! I am forever greatful!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 4.6K. Leslie Venon X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Or Parts Specified. Cam!AU! Warnings: Camming. Sex Work Positive Fic. Cam Show Supporter Reader. Masturbation. Exhibitionism. Semi-Public. Don’t Get Caught. Hold The Moan. Blood. Gore. Murder. Sickle Play. Longing. Pining. Reader Is Down Bad. Chase. Predator/Prey. Vaginal Sex. Spanking. Creampie. Choking. Orgasm Denial. Edging. Hanging. Snuff. Theatics. Toy Use. Teasing. Banter. Dirty Talk. Cum Play. Auto Erotic Asphyxiation.

—

He’s Committed If Nothing Else.

—

Your friend was the one who planted the idea in your mind. You and them were talking, and it was late, you both in their car. You’d hung out all afternoon and night and now it was creeping past midnight, you were parked in your driveway, still deep in conversation when it turned towards porn preferences. You were talking about videos that you both had seen recently, hot pictures and comics and whatever else when they brought up, “Oh I found a new cam site I’ve been using a lot lately that is just brimming with talent-”

“A cam site?” You questioned, not because you’ve never heard of them but because you hadn’t heard of anyone you knew actually using one, and your friend’s eyebrows raised, “What? Don’t tell me you’ve never used one before!”

You have not. Your friend then proceeded to sing the praises and merits of camming sites, the direct interaction and impact you could have, the wealth of choice at your fingertips, almost any kind of person you could conceivably want to watch or would be attracted to can be found on a cam site, you could be totally spoiled. It did sound appealing. Finding someone who was hot and fun and your type, that you could talk to, splash a little cash to support them in their endeavours and get off at the same time. You weren’t totally sold though. Your friend texted you the name of the that they had been favouring lately, they encouraged you to check it out the next time you were looking for a long session and you told them you’d consider it. 

You find yourself in that position about a week later. You had the night off, no plans, and frankly you wanted to give yourself a good time, really treat yourself. When settling into bed you look through your bookmark bar for just such an occasion but nothing jumps out, that is when your mind reminds you of what your friend said. You picked up your phone and found the text, you typed in the site address and it popped up immediately. You were confronted with the front page of the site, showing a bunch of featured streamers who were currently online. It was around ten pm, prime time on a Friday night, and it seemed like you had a lot of options to choose from.

You scrolled down a bit and your eyes were caught by the thumbnail of a stream that looked like it was…Outside? You saw old wood and hay and some partially dressed guy. You shrug your shoulders and decide why not? You clicked on it and that is how you were introduced to him. 

The video feed and the chat popped up into view and it seems like you picked the perfect time to get into this. Judging by the chat scrolling by, he had just started to settle in, pants were pulled down along with his underwear towards his ankles, strong thighs on display, his long sleeved shirt was pulled up a little, enough for you to catch a glimpse of that toned looking stomach. But the main attraction that you could not tear your eyes away from, the thick cock in his grip, jerking himself off slowly, pre-cum shining on the head as another drop beaded at the tip. 

His thumb swiped over the weeping slit, collecting it before spreading it, more lube to better facilitate the act he was committing on camera for the adoring audience, yourself included. You watched as his hand moved at a decent pace and filled with purpose, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, brows knitted together, tongue darting out to wet his parted lips. He was leaning back on a stack of hay bales, you caught a glimpse of the chat and it confirmed what you were already thinking, he is in a barn, the upper level of one, doing his damndest to get off and not get caught by the people below. 

You watched and you listened, your hand slipped down and found yourself already excited, as you started to touch, eyes never leaving the screen. You started slowly but soon found it not enough, you wanted to match his pace, you did and found yourself almost melting as he let out the quietest moan. Something deep in the back of his throat, his head tipping back, biting his bottom lip, long line of his throat exposed, you wanted to taste him, wanted to bite, wanted to hear more sounds like that from him, louder. His hips rocked forward into his fist, eyes squeezing shut and then you hear it, a sound, loud, his eyes shot back open, his hand stopped and you gasped. 

The look on his face, the fear in his eyes, someone else was in there, down below, he was doing something so dangerous, so close to getting caught and it was so hot. 

So real.

Even hotter when he started to move his hand, like he couldn’t resist, one of his hands coming up, covering his mouth as the other stroked himself painfully slowly, fingers squeezing the head on the upstroke making his eyes roll back and yup, cam sites? You were sold. By the night's end your hand was sticky, arm a little sore and you were out of breath and spent. You were a little in shock by the sheer pleasure you’d experienced while watching this very attractive guy who put it all on display for you and everyone else and came onto his own stomach while biting his knuckles.

The theatrical combined with the real is his main draw and Leslie Vernon knows it. His forethought, his knowledge of people, his ability to plan, it all helps aid in making him one of top streamers on his site of choice. He provided basically anything and everything anyone could want. Giving complex scenes and unquestionably hot fantasy fulfilment while also allowing the perceived vulnerability and getting to know him during the less intense streams where he lets his audience “see him as he truly is.”

He is more honest than someone might think but it is funny because the parts of him he showed that were “honest” people would think are part of the bit, of the fantasy. Funny how that works out, eh? 

He thought it was a successful stream that night, with a big crowd, lots of tips. After ending it, cleaning up, he descended the ladder. He was already thinking about the next show and what needed to happen before it as he turned off the stereo with the tape he’d made to provide the extra layer of believability to his exhibitionist stream that night, sounds of people below to help sell the danger of it all. He was really good at what he did and he fucking knew it. He put in the work, he couldn't help but be confident and self assured when the numbers his shows did, even his saved streams and the money and viewers he had accumulated did nothing but show how his effort paid off. 

The main reason he did this was to help fund his real passion and hobby, sure it was fun, it boosted his ego, it felt amazing, he liked the connections he made and it helped honed certain skills and pushed some of his boundaries in some respects. It was a fantastic match for him. 

Breaking into slashing isn’t easy. Eugene, his mentor, told Leslie as such, it takes a lot of skill, hard work, timing, and planning and honestly, luck. It also takes money. It isn’t cheap getting together everything he needs for his “nights out”, to keep things fresh and exciting, the materials required. Leslie can’t do traditional work, not like he wanted to, he still had to support himself to, you know, live. All that entailed, maintenance of his place, feeding and clothing himself, the small indulgences that made life worth it. He was very focused on his career, his goals, but having fun was important too and he tried to never lose sight of that and thankfully his main way of making money was very, very fun. 

After that night you slept insanely well and then, some research was required. Turns out the guy you watched is kinda a bigger deal on this site, on the more popular end of the spectrum. He had a regular streaming schedule posted that he seemed to always follow to a T, you loved a guy who was capable of being punctual. So you took note of when the next one was, a few days from now and you planned to be there.

If you thought the first stream had sold already the second had you hooked irrevocably. See, you always had a taste for some darker things, especially when it came to what got you off. Not even that close friend you shared your porn tastes and preferences with knew this side of you. So when that stream opened up, a more casual context then the one you first came in on, more intimate, him directly addressing the chat and taking some questions and what not you found out that this guy, Leslie you learned, was doing camming for one main reason.

He had dreams and wants and aspirations, he had goals. Bloody and violent and brutal goals that intrigued you endlessly. It felt really meta, really deep, he was convincing, it almost gave you an ARG kind of vibe, everyone playing along into the fiction of it perfectly, not acknowledging the fantasy to help sell it all the more. You can really get into it. 

So you became a fan, watching every stream that you could and falling deeper for him all the while. 

It isn’t fair that he is this fucking hot, this charming, this easy and likeable air about him as well as being this funny. He was shockingly hilarious, biting, able to be sarcastic and so much more. Not to mention his Halloween stream that was Phantom Of The Opera themed, you didn’t know where he got the organ from or how he knew how to play it but fuck it got a big laugh. 

He had depth, just a shocking amount of it, able to convey so much in those eyes, you found yourself just transfixed often. Also whenever he went on a tangent, passionately talking about something he cared about, it made you want to be around him even more. 

You watched him for months. You learned more about him, the rough area where he lived, that he had access to lots of outdoor venues to feed his exhibitionist tendencies. 

You would all ask about it and the farm he had access to, asking if he owned it and he would simply say with an easy smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

You all wondered if he was sneaking around and there illegally. 

You learned that he loved to talk and other times could be almost silent when needed except for those delicious moans that would spill out. You learned he had a decent amount of scars, you look at one that is on his side, a deep looking ragged gash under his ribs that you’d thought about tracing more than a few times. 

He would talk about where he got them with a wistful almost dreamy look on his face that endeared you so much more to him, “There was this girl, this, God-” He sighed a shake of his head, “-this amazing fucking firecracker of a girl who did it to me. With my own weapon no less, can you believe it?”

Almost sounded like he loved whoever that girl was. Lucky her.

Leslie loved using toys, tools of the trade, using the right implement for the right job is not only smart but can be necessary to elicit the response that you want. Fleshlights, cock rings, vibes, plugs and more, it’s all good. Setting is clearly important to him as well.

One of the stand out streams in your mind was the night he played “Hangman”  Literally. 

You have no idea where he got this set up but man it was elaborate. It was late, the moon was out, here was Leslie with a legitimate gallows setup, noose and all. Some poor sap, standing on a stool, thick rope around their neck and hands tied and the boy himself with a chalkboard. People could tip to guess a letter and play the game, if a letter was guessed right, he ‘played’ with the victim in that precarious position, but if no one could get the word correct. Well after several rounds where Leslie edged the poor guy stupid and a few near misses where the guy almost slipped while too caught up in the feelings, you found out just what happened in that case. After that person had been mostly stripped, clothing cut away with Leslie’s sickle, lots of edging and some toy fun, the chat fucked up. 

Too many wrong guesses and no one got that last word. “Oh noooo. Tsk, tsk, it wasn’t that hard a word guys, c’mon!” He sighed, pretending to be put out, a shrug that said, “what are you gonna do?” as he fingered the end of his sickle before saying, “Well the rules are the rules!” 

Which led to the very dramatic turn of the scene and the ‘hanging’ of Leslie’s guest star. You never saw the persons face but they were a good fucking actor. It was convincing, you almost really believed he had hung the poor fucker. He finished the show himself in the moonlight and you were so caught up looking at him and getting yourself off that you didn’t even think about how the body still in the frame, swinging by the rope around their neck, was able to do that safely if they were just some actor. 

Leslie loves his games and is good with cards so having some dedicated game nights were a must. Blackjack-off was a favourite. Basically it was played with the same rules as blackjack and viewers like you tip to play a hand against him there were different prizes set up to choose from whether Leslie won or a viewer won.

It gave you almost a strip poker vibe at one point when he was shirtless and shuffling the deck with that unmistakable flair he had. When someone asked how he got so good at cards and this game he played a bit coy, “Been to Vegas a few times. Might be a bit too acquainted with it. Why? You impressed?” 

You sure were. Leslie is good with cards, he is good with acting too, and he just so happened to make everyone believe some viewer won the last round of the night and rode a dildo for everyone’s amusement until he made a total mess of his trembling thighs. 

Some night he played chase with another guest star, for once the camera was on him, you watched as he stalked and chased and eventually caught the poor girl and fucked her in the cold dirt of the apple orchard they were in. Once he had caught her the perspective switched, you got to see him as he had her, holding her down and more than willing to take suggestions. 

A few of yours even got listened to and as his hand landed on her bare ass so hard she sobbed and, according to Leslie, “-she just clenched around me like a vice-” you came harder than you had in a long time. Wishing you were that sweet little thing he had under him. 

You were still recovering when he finished inside her before flipping her over and slashing her throat open. Again the effects he employed were insane, he never ceased to impress you.

Tonight was a big night, an exciting one. It was Saturday night, the biggest night of the week arguably, you had some money to burn and no plans other than having fun. You were mostly quiet in the chat, you did speak up, did tip, he even called you out by name a few times, he seemingly remembered everyone who made even the smallest impression. But tonight, you wanted to splash some real cash, wanted to really contribute and make yourself heard, be seen by him. 

You were right on time, already half dressed, excited and waiting and the second the room was opened there you were. You saw him, it looked like he had been “busy” tonight. In that outfit for his killer persona you had seen many times now, sickle slung on his hip, blood and mud and God knows what else on him. He was outside, leaning against what you think is the outside of the barn if memory serves. He took his mask off and dropped it on the ground with a thump as he addressed the chat. You could see the sweat on him, the smeared makeup, you were much too into him de-masked. Casual and easy conversation started, he was checking in, ended up starting to eat an apple as you all talked. He asked about a few regularly big tippers weeks. People were much more interested in how his night went. 

“My night?” He asked as he pointed to himself with one hand as he held the mostly consumed apple, you chimed in, typing in, “Yeah! What’d you do?” 

He took the last bite before throwing the apple core aside, one hand over his mouth as he finished off what was in his mouth before responding, with a shrug, “It was good. Some basic practice, gotta stay loose, keep the skills sharp, you know?” He asked with a smile as he started to slide down the wall. 

“Was it messy?” Someone asked and he tugged on one of the straps of his overalls, showing off the big spray of blood painting the front of the denim, he responded with a big grin. “What do you think?” 

“Details Les?!” “YEAH! Details please?!?!?!” 

And other similar pleading which made that warm fire you’d come to truly enjoy spark in his eyes. He had one knee up, hand resting on it, looking so natural, casual. “You all really wanna know hmm?” 

The chat professed their extreme want for that and he said, “Okay, okay, so there was this fun little thing that was getting a bit too close for comfort with what I do, right?”

You listened intently as he told the tale, of the girl and how she was too close to him, figured out some shit she shouldn’t have, how he knew that she was planning to come by, poke around his place and that wouldn’t do. He scared her, got the drop on her, scared her and chased her, eventually caught and gutted her. He told it with such passion, so much excitement, the sound effects, the terminology he dropped, he even un-holstered his sickle to drive his point home and emphasized what he told. 

He seemed much more amped after recounting the story as was the whole chat. People praising him on how well he told it and what he did sounded just amazing, how they wished they could have seen it and you joined in on that. 

That excited energy was addicting, the urge and want to keep it up was present, you don’t wanna lose this kind of momentum once you have it so he started to make the shift to tonight's main event. When he asked, “Who’s ready to make a different kind of mess?”

The chat lit up with responses, yours as well, expressing massive excitement and desperately wanting to see what was in store for the evening. 

Leslie reached out of frame, he picked up something, holding a folded over brown leather belt. “What do you think this might be for?” 

The chat immediately started throwing up responses, and he didn’t give away what he was planning, holding the belt with one hand and palming himself with the other. You started to palm yourself too, a roll of your hips, the friction was good but not good enough. You stripped your shorts and threw them aside as Leslie was shrugging, “I dunnoooo, might just have to spring it on you all, surprise you.” 

A raise of his eyebrows and you wanted to be surprised, he was so good at doing that. You picked your moment just as he did, you played it cool, you teased, a taunt with a big fat fucking tip attacted, “Awfully confident Les. Sure you can really surprise us? I’m not convinced.” 

You saw a flicker of something on his face, eyes narrowed ever so slightly, he noticed your comment. “Don’t think I can pull it off?”

You added another comment, “Yeah I don’t think you can.” 

This was a good angle you were giving him, Leslie liked to be challenged, he thought one simple word, bet. 

“Let’s see about that-” And he said your screen name in a way that made you throb with need. Your dumb little plan, worked.

He kept the belt nearby, and he unclasped his overalls and let them slip down. You loved the shirt he wore underneath, the tattered and rough look of it, the holes, you wanted to run your fingers over it and touch, take in the messy almost terry cloth looking texture and the brief parts of his skin you could reach through the holes. He usually never wore anything other than the shirt underneath and tonight was no different. Claims of being able to move better when unrestricted had been thrown around previously and thank God for that. 

He was already pretty hard, not surprising based on how he recounted that story and the energy in the room tonight. He spit into his hand and it dropped down, wrapped around himself and he began to stroke slowly, little preamble or teasing to it. Sometimes he would do massive build up before he even touched his dick, other times, like tonight, he just went for it. 

You were touching yourself in time, mirroring him. He was looking right into the camera, your favourite, you watched the change and the shift, the wash of pleasure as he began to get more into it. Melting more into it, breathing harder, the small flexes of his muscles under that gorgeous skin muttered with scars. You watched as he picked up the pace, harder grip and he breatehd out, “Fuck that feels good.” 

You took this as another in, typing in quickly with one hand, something you’ve gotten much better at since getting into cam shows, “This the big, bad, stream you had planned Les? Jerking it one handed sitting in the dirt?

He looked almost offended, a scoff as he said, “No patience tonight? Ever hear of building anticipation?” 

You grinned, another response fired back, “Yeah I’m really anticipating…Something exciting to happen.” 

“Is that so?” He asked with a tight smile.

The chat was into this. The back and forth, you teasing him and he was not as unbothered as maybe he should have. He hadn’t stopped and neither had you as it continued, you were breathing quicker, pleasure spiking, both moving with more purpose, harder, quicker, almost matching the pace of the banter you went through this back and forth. 

“C’mon Leslie, I’m not impressed. Is anyone else here impressed?” And it had gone on long enough. 

His hand released himself, he snatched up the belt and you watched his fingers work deftly, the belt was looped and your hand slowed slightly wondering what he was doing until it slipped over around his neck and was tightened. He was staring down the camera, your eyes were wide, your breath caught, one hand wrapping the end of the belt around it and his other hand locking back onto the base of his shaft, his tone containing so much bite as he asked, “Anyone ever heard of-”

And you finished his thought, saying it the exact same time as him, a quiet and awed whisper to yourself, “-auto erotic asphyxiation.” 

He started his pace back up, working back up to it as he asked, “Is this exciting enough for you?” 

His breathing was strained, laced with pleasure, stroking himself as he continued, “Dangerous enough? Hot enough?”

It was hot, it was dangerous, this was serious, he could really hurt himself. He had hurt others plenty but this put him at risk, on display for you all and you clenched around nothing. 

He tugged slightly on the belt, tightening it half a notch, you could see the leather biting into the sweat slick skin of his throat. Your own hand was working furiously now, you were panting openly, pleasure spiking hard. He asked further, “Well-?” he said your screen name again and you choked out a moan. 

The chat was losing it and with shaking fingers you responded one handed again, “Yes, so good, holy fuck.” You typing it out had a few more spelling mistakes than that in your haste and it made him let out a strained laugh against the creaking leather. 

“Yeah, of course you are into this.” He teased with surprising effectiveness while choking and masturbating himself at the same time. He was just as into this. He was panting too, head tipped back, resting against the splintering wood as he worked. His chest heaving, leaking pre-cum, he looked so flushed, veins on his neck prominent, he couldn’t talk as much at this point. He had tightened the belt enough that talking seemed painful but it was fine. 

The show he put on, body responding on instinct just chasing the pleasure he was feeling, it sped you along. You wanted to cum so bad, you wanted to time it just right, tonight was all about timing and in your time watching him you’d started to pick up on the tells. The muscles in his thighs tensing, the look in his eyes, the slight falter in his pace he was close. 

He nodded, a quiet, almost inaudible, “Ready?” was asked to the chat and you nodded, yes, yes, yes you were so ready. 

He was so fucking close, you were too, your own legs shaking, you needed this so bad and you took it in as his one hand slid down and moved with a kind of ease that made you think he had definitely done this before, releasing the tension of the belt. It fell to sit around his shoulders as he came with the loudest gasp you’ve ever heard from him. The first rope shot up and out, landing on his chest and you tipped over your own orgasm overtaking. 

His whole body jerked from the sheer force of it, zero composure, legs jerked, his hand barely moving, all the cum ended up on his chest and stomach and fingers, a little on his thighs and him moaning loud and fucking clear. It served to elevate your pleasure further. 

It was that kind of orgasm that left your ears ringing and your fingers shaking, totally out of breath. 

The come down took a fucking minute. A full minute of him struggling to regain his breath which was not easy to make happen for him. You were speechless, you sit up right in your chair, there was only one thing you could do, you typed in the amount and sent it with a message, “You win.” 

Leslie heard the tip sound, he looked at the chat, scanned over your message, read the hefty amount you tipped and he laughed, hard, harder than he should have after that. “Told you I’d surprise you.”

He always did, didn’t he?