OFThey say the final girl always gets away, but not this one. Not tonight. Ghostface called while I was alone in the kitchen, still in my little plaid skirt and sweater, pretending not to be shaking when I answered. I didn’t hear him come in until his gloved hand was over my mouth, breath hot behind my ear. He threw me down on the rug, pressed my face into it, tore my panties aside, and pushed in without a word. No prep, no teasing, just him filling me while my body fought to keep up. His hand hooked my jaw, forcing it open as he choked me and pulled my hips up, each thrust harder, deeper, until I was shaking and soaked against the floor. Then he dragged me to the counter, bent me over, grabbed my wrists, and slammed into me again. My skirt was bunched around my waist, chest pinned under his arm while he fucked me deep, slow, rough. He shoved my panties between my lips, made me look at the camera while my body jerked against him, every sound caught in his hand. When he was done using me there, he dropped me to my knees. Fingers in my hair, cock at my lips, he pushed in until I gagged. Allowed to breathe just long enough to beg before filling my throat again, holding me still while he came across my face, thick and messy, dripping down my chin. Eighteen minutes of pure control, every second caught on camera. Wanna see how the final girl really ends up? 😈
2026-04-15