Dark Corners RP - Staine and CuteDragon - (NSFW noncon dark themes.)

[CuteDragon]

The soft ring light hummed faintly against the walls of Emma's student flat, giving her hazel eyes a glassy glow. Her desk was littered with half-drained mugs of tea and a notebook scribbled with dates, case notes, and question marks that looked like more tiny hooks pulling at her thoughts.

"So the latest victim as you all know from the news, was a girl called Skylar Reed. Pretty girl by all accounts, form a good home, no trouble. Snatched after an 19th birthday party. She's been missing for almost five weeks, and then... she turns up in basement of a closed shop. Latex stockings, corset, one of those armbinder things, all very well fitted, very high quality, very expensive. Tied to one of those vibrating seats, a sybian. God know show long she had been there, collared and chained to a wall. Like something from a sick version of 50 shades right?"

Her eyes flicked to an icon.

"Oh thanks for the subscribe Sheerluck29! I appreciate it!"

She leaned closer to the camera, lowering her voice in that way her subscribers knew meant she was about to say something that mattered.

"But there's the thing, the victim wasn't killed. And with this guy, they never are. She was left alive. Bound, gagged, and disoriented, but alive. Whoever did this made sure of it. And that tells us something important: this isn't about ending lives. This is about control. About shaping someone into what he thinks they should be. although she had been scrubbed clean of DNA, there is no way this crime wasn't sexual. and if he had her for weeks, how much sexual assault had she endured to break her mind so completely! My inside sources say she's been [practically catatonic since they found her!"

Emma let the pause hang. She had learned early on that silence could be more powerful than words.

She shifted, tucking a strand of copper hair behind her ear, and continued.

"Some offenders see themselves as teachers, even liberators. They don't just want power, they want to rewrite the victim's sense of self. To them, it's a twisted kind of… education. Which is why survivors often say the psychological scars are worse than the physical ones. Because he isn't only trying to break the body. He's trying to rewrite the mind."

Her throat was dry, but she pressed on, feeling the weight of the story.

"What's most chilling is the precision. He covers his tracks, cleans evidence, leaves nothing the police can use. That's not just caution, that's ritual. It means he's practiced, patient, and above all… deliberate. Whoever he is, he's not improvising. He's planning. And as long as he's planning, we have to assume he isn't finished."

Emma leaned back, staring at the blinking red light on her camera. She wondered — not for the first time — who else might be watching these videos. Her regulars, sure. The curious true-crime fans. The trolls who left comments about her hair or her accent. But sometimes, she caught herself thinking about the other possibility:

The people she talked about.

What if he was watching?

She swallowed, forced a smile, and raised a hand toward the camera.

"Anyway, that's all I have for now so I guess that's it for today's Corners. If you found this breakdown useful and want to se emore content like this, you know what to do, hit like, subscribe, and remember to stay safe. Seriously. Stay safe."

She clicked the record button. The red light died. Her small flat sank back into silence, broken only by the low hiss of her laptop fan.

 

[Staine]

He grinned to himself as he sat down at his computer. He was satisfied for now...it was always like that. He felt the hunger rising, the need ever since his first victim, then after taking one, transforming them into what he saw as perfection he felt satiated, his work was done, the hunger abated and everything was right with the world again...until the next time. The first had been a clumsy attempt really, a few toys, a single night, the woman had deserved better, deserved more of his attention and it hadn't really been what he'd envisioned. That was okay though, it was his first time and he still remembered her fondly, he'd checked in on her since then, she was slowly getting her life back together, it had been over a year after all. He'd been bolder the second time, that was when he gotten his own space and he'd taken her there. Two weeks...that was how long he'd used her, but he hadn't had his system yet, his toys, his tools. It had been rape, plain and simple, every day, several times a day...simple restraints, ropes and zip-ties. It had been amateur but he'd learned, his creativity had been sparked.

Now he had the things he needed, he had toys both bought and created at home, he had restraints. It cost him but the cost didn't matter, he had money, he could afford to leave his victims with their favourite toys and restraints. Every one was different, responded differently to the various implements he now used and he liked leaving them with their favourites. His latest victim, Skylar, had responded so positively to the sybian that he'd left her on it for example. The loss of the machine wasn't anything he couldn't handle and he'd been sure to give her a good 24 hours or so before informing the authorities where she was. He was nice like that.

And now he had a new hobby, a new obsession to tide him over between his victims. DarkCorners...it was a stream he'd found when searching for evidence of his work online...it was a strange pride he took, he was always eager to read what the newspapers and various internet personalities had to say about his work, pure narcissism really but he could be allowed his little flaws. This was his favourite, a streamer and youtube that was local to him and had covered the last few of his victims. Today she was due to stream again, and he just knew she would mention him. It was exciting, like an addiction, he was becoming maybe a little obsessed with her, he followed all her social media now and he'd learned so much about her. Emma Hamilton...deliciously the daughter of a policeman who was in charge of investigating his very crimes which was just icing on the cake for him. Pretty, a redhead and seemingly fixated on what he'd done. He watched as the stream started and sure enough he was the topic. He felt a swell of pride as she meticulously went over what he had done, described how he'd left Skylar and he had the added pleasure of being able to picture it perfectly, he even had some videos to prove it...he'd started recording his work from the very start.

He typed a greeting in the chat as he usually did, then, feeling a little whimsical, he made a few clicks and smiled as his name popped up on the main screen.

D3pr4vity has gifted 10 subs!

It flashed along the screen and he sat back to watch the reactions, to hear his name being spoken, at least the one he used on twitch. He was already subbed himself, of course, and he was careful, everything he did online was ran through his own private VPN servers, untraceable, as was the method of payment. Happy with himself he listened to her analysis of him, taking pride in how close she got. He was careful, he was meticulous in his planning and execution now. There had been 13 victims to date after all, he'd had practice, and she was correct in that he was far from finished.

When the stream ended, he felt a pang of emptyness. That happened sometimes...he'd enjoyed it, but he wanted more, he wanted to listen to Emma more, hear her talk about his deeds, it had been a growing desire that was getting harder to resist and today was the day. She had a business email, and he had his throwaway that he'd used to make his twitch account, so he opened it and started to write.

Greetings DarkCorners.

I'm always happy to see how you appreciate my work, I put a lot of effort into making everything just...perfect, and I'm sure you do the same. Your channel has been very good to me, you don't try to insult me like so many others do. I want you to know I've watched every single video you've covered my work in and many more besides...you're well informed, surprisingly so, but you don't know everything, do you? I don't see how you could, the media doesn't like to show my work even if they like to describe it, but a picture is worth a thousand words, isn't it?

He grinned and scrolled through his collection of photographs, all of Skylar in various states. It had been a fun month. Selecting one at the very end, the last he'd taken before he gagged, blindfolded and left her there, he attached it to the email. It was incontrovertible proof, in his eyes, that she was talking to the real deal, he wouldn't let her think for a moment he was just some imposter, the very thought brought with it a flash of anger.

Isn't she beautiful? So much more so than when I first took her. They all are, this is how they are transformed, how they become what they were always meant to be. I can tell you more, show you more, if you'd like to talk. I'm sure you see what an opportunity this is, to be the first to hear what really happens. An interview of sorts...are you interested?

D3pr4vity.

He sent it and waited. She'd just finished streaming, he didn't know how often she checked her email but he didn't think it would be long and he was eager to finally talk to somebody about his work, it had been a growing urge inside him.

 

[CuteDragon]

Emma was very much of an age where email was sort of a last resort. Her preferred means of communication being, in order of priority:

• Discord: Friends and interest groups
• Whatsapp: family and more local friends.
• Text: the close support group, mainly parents and a few close friends.
• Social Media DMs: fans, general reaching out and casual contacts
• Pretty much everything else!

So it wasn't till later that evening till she spotted the email. She was curled up on her small two-seater couch with Wednesday season two all queued up and ready to go. But while she waited for the kettle to boil, she had done a doomscroll on her phone. Then she had seen the email icon with over 40 emails to sort.

Better now than let it build up!

There were quite a few in the inbox, usually people who were asking for handouts, seeking to connect on an unsuitably friendly manner, or even worse, the besotted few who seemed to think watching her videos somehow translated to a desire to see their genitals!

So when she spotted an email with a picture attachment, she almost deleted it out of hand, but then she spotted the email address.

D3pr4vity@anymail.com.

Now that was interesting. D3pr4vity was one of the followers that had been quite active recently, gifting subs. In a sea of usernames, it was one of a few that stood out. But as far as she knew he had never contacted her before, never asked for anything.

Curious she decided to open the email.

As she read, she felt her heart accelerate and her cheeks flush. This had to be a prank, some joker wannabe playing the role. But something felt… chillingly authentic about this text, the tone, what was not said as much as what was said. It felt real!

He knew something of police procedures too, but he was not aware of the glimpse of the crime scene photos she had managed to sneak a glance at when she had been talking to her dad yesterday. It had only been the quickest look, but it had helped her form a snapshot in her mind of the crime scene.

That was why, when she swallowed hard and opened the image file, she recognised Skylar at once.

"Oh fuck!"

She said it out loud. There was no doubt, this wasn't some clever Ai mockup, she was studying media, she knew the telltales of generative AI when she saw it. This was Skylar, sometime before she had been found.

She could not quite tear her eyes away, the tight bondage, the latex, the sybian…

But her face… that face held her for long, long moments. That was the face of a woman experiencing intense pleasure.

Emma was almost jealous for a second. Her romantic experience was limited and.. uninspiring. She wasn't naïve, she was a modern girl and she had seen porn, knew what went where and why and how. She wasn't even a virgin,. Though that memory was not one of her greatest moments. Too much cider and three minutes of grunting followed by a feeling od mid disgust. As far as she knew, orgasms were as rare and mythical as unicorns. Something other girls seems to have no trouble getting.

And here was a kidnapped victim of abuse, cumming while bound to a fucking sybian!

It was almost funny if it wasn't so horrifyingly real.

She ought to send this email and the photo to her dad, right away.

That's what she ought to do.

So… why wasn't she doing it.

"I can tell you more, show you more, if you'd like to talk. I'm sure you see what an opportunity this is, to be the first to hear what really happens. An interview of sorts...are you interested?"

Her mind was reeling with possibility. This could make her career. One interview, with this man? The press were already calling him the Dollmaker already. Though some more lurid names had been cast about. If she was the one to get insight into the Dollmaker and his methods, his goals? Maybe even something to help catch him? her channel would go nova, she would be swimming in subscriptions, more she could publish, she'd be on TV.

If… she did not tell her dad anything. If she kept this a secret.

Is that obstructing the course of justice? Or am I trying to prove it really is him first before I go to dad?

Who am I trying to convince? You know you're going to do this… so just get on with it and stop fretting. Get it done, and deal with what follows.

She didn't waste another second.

Dear sir.

Best to be polite.

I was… intrigued to receive your email, and flattered beyond words that you chose me to reach out to. I would be most interested in finding out more. You are one of the most interesting people of our times, and insight into your motives, methods and mindset would be incredibly useful, not to mention personally beneficial, if you allow me to publish any of the material you give me.

I know you are highly intelligent, so I am sure you have done your due diligence and know my father is a DI in the GMP. I will not pass this information onto him, yet. As I am still not altogether sure you are who you say you are, but there is enough here to make me explore that possibility.

She was pretty damned sure it was him, but getting more proof would be useful, and perhaps prick his ego enough to make him show more than he was ready to.

I'd be fascinated to know how you would like to proceed. I would not be foolish enough to wish to meet face-to-face. I am sure you can understand why, though I do not flatter myself in thinking I am suitable 'material' for your work as you seem to select very beautiful women.

Fishing for a compliment Emma? From a rapist?

She deleted then line, then put it back.

Damn!

In the meantime, thank you for the compliment once again, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Emma of DarkCorners.

Her finger trembled as she hit send.

She went to the kitchen and, in a semi-trance, made a cup of tea, opened a pack of chocolate digestives and sat back down to stare into space for several long minutes as she devoured sweet goodness.

What the hell did I just do?