"Huh?" Noah perks up at the invitation. At the same time, a Location Services icon starts flashing on the top right corner of the screen, but he's too distracted by the summons to spot it. "What's this?...I've heard of Red Rooms before, I'm not sure what they are though...I guess we can check out one last thing on The Dark Web. I have tons of malware protection after all, what's the worst that could happen?"

Noah accepts the invite via the click of his mouse. The progress bar drags across the window with the speed of a snail. It's downloading something big.

Meanwhile, the door in the background opens a crack, quietly enough so Noah doesn't notice. Hell, you barely notice.

Upon finally loading the Red Room, the blue glow on Noah's face dips to solid black, because the window now displays a full-screen video-recording of a dark padded cell, with a single spotlight that shines down onto a pair of handcuffs dangling from the ceiling by a cord like mistletoe.

The door opens up a bit more and a black figure stands in the doorway. It's not The Breather. Noah is continually left none the wiser, too invested in his Dark Web browsing.

Off on the side of the window is a small green number in the 4,000's that keeps fluctuating up and down. It's a view-count.

"Is this a...livestream?" Noah quietly asks all perturbed.

The black figure steps forward, in a machine-like stride that garners almost no sound whatsoever, still keeping Noah oblivious. The intruder gets close enough to the camera, right over the kid's shoulder, so that their details can be distinguished. It's a female with hips almost busting out her cargo pants from sheer shapeliness. She's further dressed in a ski-mask, tank-top, and fingerless gloves, and her beefy right arm is bundled with a dragon-like gang tattoo.

Noah should've listened to The Breather.

The Kidnapper swoops a black plastic bag over Noah's head and viciously holds for a couple moments as he soundlessly gasps and thrashes, before succumbing to the suffocation. After cutting the blood supply off from his brain, The Kidnapper lets Noah go so his limp body lazily slumps in his office chair. She walks around in front of her out-cold victim, filling most of the screen with her backside, and picks up his head, curiously inspecting it through the bag. You can just feel her libido building with every second she spends eye-fucking Noah's unconscious body. She lets him go and lifts her foot up so she can tear her boot off her ankle. The Kidnapper repeats the action with her other leg, then unbuttons her jeans before peeling the cuffs off her bare feet so she's completely naked from the waist down. The bottom half of her perfectly spherical, milky bubble butt hangs out the tail of her top. She sits in Noah's lap, snaking her legs under the chair's arms as they sway off the seat, and performs some dexterous gymnastics with her white moon to get it perfectly fitted around his penis as it dangles from his pajama fly.

She reaches her hand around and starts lusciously tuning the plump scrotum bulging out from the two locked genitalia, which is enough stimulation to have Noah's comatose brain swell his penis up with blood cells as it sits within the warm swathe of The Kidnapper's womb. The second home invader of the night plants her hands on Noah's shoulders and begins delicately pumping up and down on his loins. Her moans start off as soft and sparse, but they pick up in frequency and volume in sync with her waist as it begins hammering down on Noah's groin like a blacksmith. The fierce movements of The Kidnapper raping Noah in his sleep makes the chair's axis tilt to the left, giving you a side view of what looks like a burglar fucking a bagged and tagged corpse. She cradles his head like it's her own baby as her body movement indicates she's getting close.

You can see the shadow of her agape mouth stretching underneath the thin fabric of her ski-mask. "Оhh, ебать..." she raspily whines in a foreign language. "Ohhh мой Бог... OH, БЛЯДЬ!"

The Kidnapper completely splatters the seat with buckets worth of vaginal discharge, soiling the whole damn chair to an almost irrevocable state of sogginess. After catching her breath, she climbs off of Noah's soaked lap and rubs her pussy as it still froths with the residue of her explosive climax in a "victory lap" of sorts. She gets her cargo pants back to her waist so she can reach the cellphone that lies within one of the pockets, speed-dialing someone and giving them a quick call.

"На моем пути."

As she slides the phone back into her britches, she notices the facecam. Her cold dead eyes, sinking into a pit of blackness filling her sockets, stare into your soul before she masks the lens with her palm and shuts it off, leaving only the video capture of the Red Room. There's about a minute of dead air before an announcement displays.

"THE SHOW BEGINS IN 30 SECONDS"

And exactly 30 seconds later, just as promised, a cheery whistling can be heard echoing throughout the padded cell of The Red Room. It gets closer and closer, louder and louder, until finally the livestream's operator steps into the spotlight to address you and her vast turnout of sick creeps. She's kept anonymous by a blank hockey mask, and she's otherwise dressed in black and white medical scrubs, though it's hard to tell since she's so damn stained in the blood of her past victims that her attire might as well be dyed red.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight's show!" her dramatic voice booms with showman-like glee. "I'm The Red Room's humble host, The Executioner, and this week we have a very special guest. He's running a bit late, unfortunately, the little brat had a whole firewall of proxies my lovely assistant took a while to penetrate, but I just knew from the second I found out about his hobby that I had to have him on the show! You see, he's a geek who has nothing better to do than to browse all sorts of rundown dumps with his camera. So he'll be delighted to learn that he gets to explore my infamous Red Room all he wants! And he might be a little less thrilled to hear that you and I will get to explore his body all we want~..."

A commercial door opens off-screen. The Executioner's head cocks accordingly in the direction.

"Ah, speak of the Devils, there they are! Fashionably late, huh? Took the scenic route?"

"Отвали," The Kidnapper snarls in gravelly Russian as she enters the shot with a still unconscious Noah slung over her shoulder.

"Peachy as always, dear. You know what to do," she coldly commands as she goes off to fetch something.

The Kidnapper pries her victim from her clavicle, tears him out of his shirt, and locks his wrists and ankles in two strips of duct tape so he slackly drapes a couple inches from the padded floor by the lightbulb string-like cord. The Executioner returns, her appearance heralded by the wheeling of a medical cart loaded to the brim with all sorts of gnarly torture tools and bondage equipment. She rips the bag off his head just to blindfold him and pops a ball gag in his mouth, before handing her minion a fat wad of cash. The Russian goes to leave with her payment.

"What, not gonna stay and watch?" The Executioner asks a bit disappointed.

"Спаси меня видео."

"Your loss."

Right after the door closes, indicating The Kidnapper's departure, The Executioner slap Noah across the face, instantly snapping him awake. "Wakey wakey!"

"MHPH!" His head shoots up from its slump, darting around despite all directions being everything being solid black from his perspective. "Mh-Mhph mm mph?! Mmhph mm mhph mm mmmph?!" his muffled grogginess is instantly vaporized by a frenzied hysteria.

"Don't panic, dear! You might be a Red Room star but the chat seems like it's in a good mood tonight. Maybe they'll go easy on you. Hell, maybe even I'll go easy on you..."

"Mm mmph, mhn MHN MHN, MMPNH MMPH MMMN MMPH!"

Ignoring his noisy incoherent pleads, The Executioner turns to you and starts scanning the chat, letting her heavy chest hang from behind her wet shirt inches from the webcam. Her scarlet eyes sear through the monitor as they dart from side-to-side, reading the hundreds of messages as they flood in one by one, a torrent of requests and comments all sent by anonymous sickos.

"haxxer_man: Put that whip to good use.
guest34879: i wanna see him CUM
Duwang5: I bet that kid has one cute bubble butt...
Lewdimagery: aww hes so precious 3
guest957428: TICKLE HIM!
JustNine: OwO, is that a feather on the cart?
D3m0nm4n: Wtf am I doing here, this isn't bathroom cams"

"I'm getting a lot of mixed results. You can't please everybody..." she retrieves a horsewhip from the cart and slaps her other palm with it, making Noah jump. "But you sure can try!"

She twists him around so his back's facing you, showing off his ass as it tightly fills up the upper back part of his pajamas. She seizes his waistband and let his pants pool at his ankles so he's mooning you and thousands others against his will. The Executioner's palm comes crashing down onto his left buttock, making it recoil with a jiggle that lasts for five whole seconds.

"OMHPH!" Noah miserably cries.

Just like his facial cheek from getting slapped awake, Noah's bottom cheek is stained with a red handprint, but this time, The Executioner doesn't give it a chance to heal. She spanks his rear-end with unrelenting cruelty, making him try to squeak and beg as both bubbles of chalk-white flesh slowly devolve to tomato red in pigmentation. On a ravenous blood-high she begins using the horsewhip to amplify the pain by tenfold, so the blunt smacks switch to sharp lashes that make him squeal like a pig. The Executioner reddens both his cheeks with lashes and whippings from her riding crop. Finally, her arm tucker out and she relents. Noah's backside is littered with hundreds on top of hundreds of handprints and whip welts, each and every one of them solid crimson. The Executioner grabs two handfuls of the hot red mess, groping his cheeks and spreading them wide before letting go. They crash together like wrecking balls and ripple for an eternity, and for a couple seconds The Executioner's skin-colored handprints can't be missed, before being scorched from existence by the sunburn on Noah's butt.

Returning to the inventory of BDSM instruments atop the medical cart, the torture technician switches the crop out for a white feather she plucked up, eyeing it like a surgeon would his tools. She crouches down and husks his socks away to strip him barefoot before scooping his tied-together ankles up with the choke of her left hand to put his soft naked soles in the spotlight. With the other hand, she begins tickle-torturing the bottom of his feet with the feather. The prickly bristles of white brush down the wrinkles of his arches, making his ankles squirm against the duct tape's choke. All he lets out are stifled chortles, defiantly trying to stop himself from giving The Executioner and her perverse audience what they want: laughter. The feather moves down to the balls of his feet, roughly tracing the butt-shaped bulges. Accordingly, his chuckles become more clear-cut and audible as he starts to squirm. His poor little feet try so hard to leap out of The Red Room host's palms but her grip is too iron.

The quill then reaches the tip of his soles, crawling underneath the bottom of his big toe and mercilessly streaking across the rest to peak the foot torture. His chuckles evolve to full-blown hearty laughs, sprinkled with "Stop!"'s and "No!"'s. After one final lap of foot tickling, this time using the nails of her bare hands to playfully scratch his soles with, The Executioner finally lets go of his ankles, allowing his shins to fall back to where they were so his worn-out toes can scrape the cushioned ground with his swaying. The livestream buffers ahead a couple seconds, after she's twisted him back around so his face, moistened by tears and reddened by strain, can be seen, as well as his soft dick as it uselessly dangles between his bent naked legs. The Red Room operator shovels the worm up with the arm of the feather and skillfully jockeys it like a painter with his brush, mixing two types of forced pleasures into his crotch that manifest as a bouncing erection. The hundreds of razor-thin hairs move up and down his stony shaft, tracing the throbbing veins and tickling the small crater aiming at you. She makes sure not to neglect his balls, dusting the smoothness of his scrotum as his nuts ravenously bounce from within them.

"HMHMHMHMHMHMMHM! MM HMPH, MM HMPH, MMMPH MPH! HMMHMHMHMHM!" he begs as he cranes his head back.

Noah's entire being is tortured by a bizarre tingly sensation that makes his legs squirm and throat go raw from excessive belly laughter. At this point, he's almost as red as the blood on The Executioner's shirt and wringing his lungs dry with screeches of forced guffawing. His face is soaked with tears and his chest is soaked with sweat. He's completely glistening with a blinding glimmer whilst his laughter suddenly stifles as his body instinctively braces for the orgasm of his life. The Executioner brings the tickle torture to a screeching halt as to edge him, abandoning the gallon load stewing in his hefty, tightening scrotum to induce a surely excruciating case of blue balls. All tension is exhaled out from the situation as she gives Noah a chance to breathe, so heavily that it looks and sounds like he's ran a marathon.

After letting him squirm against the agony of a hampered orgasm for a while, The Executioner gets behind Noah and on her knees as she tosses the feather away. That doesn't mean she's done tormenting his penis though. She gives him a good old fashioned reach around as she sheds her mask, though her face isn't seen since she buries it in between Noah's buttcheeks as they still steam with crimson heat. Noah's throat and lungs go right back into overdrive again as all sorts of overpowering sensations haunt his body, this time from The Executioner simultaneously milking his cock with her fist and milking his prostate with her tongue. In another buffer, the video skips ahead at just the perfect moment when a rocket of cum comes firing out from Noah's urethra, cleanly punching the webcam filming all of this and almost knocking it off balance. The lens is coated with a thick white.

"Holy SHIT!" The Executioner exclaims from behind the new 'overlay'. "I don't know if I should be pissed or impressed!" she laughs before wiping off the cum stain with her thumb, masked once more. "On one hand, I think you ruined my keyboard but on the other, that must've been two entire meters! Most guys can't even piss that far! What's your secret, Noah? Green tea, carrots?" she asks as she flicks the frosting away and sheds his face of the spit-soaked gag.

The second the red ball pops out of Noah's mouth, he wastes no time screaming at the top of his lungs and thrashing against his restraints. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"Geez, how come my victims are never up for small-talk?" the sadist mutters with irritation as she steps off-screen. "Anyways, I'm gonna go hit up the little girl's room real quick. You don't go anywhere where now! I promised 20 more minutes!" her hammy voice gets more and more distant as she disappears to take five in her torture of Noah, leaving the victim quiet and alone with you and your fellow watchers.

He pants and sobs a bit before recomposing himself and blindly addressing the camera. "Well, uh...to my audience, if you're still watching this... I think you guys have gotten your Dark Web filling for today, to say the least. So um...s-...see you next time?"

The capture card hits its half hour recording capacity and the file ends.