The Backrooms!!

It was a gloomy day in a small town called Huntersville, the sky almost looked completely grey as the clouds and stormy weather drained all its color.

Barry pushed his cart down the endless aisle of the carpet warehouse, the fluorescent lights humming overhead like dying insects. He was shopping for new flooring for his apartment—something neutral, durable, nothing too flashy.

His ex, Carla, had always hated his taste in decor.

“Too boring, Barry. Just like you,” she’d sneered before packing her things and leaving him six months ago.

The breakup was really tough on Barry, from the looks of it, his skin was pale, he had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, lots of stubble on his normally clean shaven face, and even his clothes had food stains on them.

He shook the memory away and wandered deeper into the back of the store, past rows of industrial rolls and discount remnants, looking for a specific shade.

The air grew thicker, damper. The lights flickered. He turned a corner behind a towering stack of carpet padding and felt his foot sink strangely, as if the cheap linoleum had given way to something softer, moister. One second he was in the warehouse. The next, he was stumbling forward into yellow.

The Backrooms.

He heard stories from the internet—liminal hell, endless monotonous rooms, entities that hunted the lost. But this was real. The walls were that sickly yellow, the carpet under his dirty sneakers damp and mold-flecked, stretching infinitely in every direction. The fluorescent tubes buzzed louder here, a constant migraine drone.

Barry’s heart hammered.

“H-Hellooo..!!!” He called out once, his voice echoed before being swallowed by the void. No answer. He called out again, still, no answer.

He started walking.

Minutes blurred into Hours, or maybe it was more. Time didn’t work here.

Every turn he took, was the same yellow walls, the same buzzing sound from the lights, and the same gut wrenching feeling that he’s being watched.

His legs ached. He kept moving, desperate for an exit that never appeared.

Exhaustion finally forced him to rest against a wall in a particularly large chamber, the carpet here stained with dark, unidentifiable patches.

For some reason, the yellow walls and carpet floor started making him feel sweaty, or was it from lack of sleep? He didn’t know. So he takes off his tank top and baggy sweatpants. He was wearing his loose boxer briefs, it would have been embarrassing if anyone else was there to see.

That’s when he heard it: the soft moan of a female voice.

Barry thought it might’ve been his mind playing tricks on him, so he closed his eyes to get a bit of rest. But there it was again. The same moan, heard from down the hallway.

Barry froze, his eyes snapped open. From the far corridor, he could see a figure standing at the long end of the hallway. But Barry couldnt shake the feeling that this figure looked like someone he knew.

That’s when it clicked. She looked like Carla.

Almost.

Same height, same swaying walk, same hourglass figure that had once driven him wild. Long dark hair cascaded down her back, but it moved as if underwater, strands occasionally twitching like living things. Her skin was too pale, almost translucent, with faint black veins visible beneath. Her eyes—Carla’s warm brown—were now solid black pools that drank in the buzzing light. Her lips were full and crimson, stretched into a smile too wide, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp.

She wore a tight black dress that clung to every curve, the fabric seeming to shift and ripple like it was alive, low-cut to reveal deep cleavage and the tops of breasts that heaved with unnatural hunger. She was horrifying. She was devastatingly sexy.

“Barry,” she purred, her voice a perfect echo of Carla’s, but layered with something wet and echoing, like it came from deeper inside the walls. “There you are. I’ve missed you.”

As the figure crept closer, Barry could see the disfigured face, it wasn’t *really\* his ex, but something trying to mimic her.

“No. You’re not her. Stay back!” He scrambled to his feet.

The entity tilted her head, smiling wider.

“But I am. Just.. Better…. No more arguments. No more leaving. Just you… and me… and all the time in the world.” She took a step closer, hips rolling seductively. One hand trailed down her own body, nails like claws grazing her thigh.

Barry ran. Clearly feeling overwhelmed with confusion, with a small hint of arousal.

He sprinted through the yellow maze, lungs burning, turning corners at random. The buzzing lights strobed. Behind him, her heels clicked steadily, never speeding up, never slowing.

She was toying with him. He could hear her laughing—low, throaty, aroused.

“You always ran from commitment, Barry. Not this time.” She says trying to get inside his head.

He ducked into a narrower hallway, carpet squelching underfoot, and hid behind a jutting wall section.

Silence. His heart thundered in his ears. Maybe he’d lost her. The coast was clear.

Or so he thought..

A hand clamped over his mouth from behind. Cold. Soft. Possessive.

“Found you,” she whispered directly into his ear, breath hot and sweet like rot and perfume.

Barry thrashed, but she was impossibly strong. The entity spun him around and slammed him back against the yellow wall. Up close, the horror and beauty warred: her black eyes reflected his terrified face, her full breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard points through the shifting fabric. One of her legs slid between his, thigh rubbing deliberately against his crotch.

“You hurt me when you let me go,” she hissed, though the smile never left her face. “Now I’ll hurt you. Fair’s fair.”

Her knee drove upward without warning—hard, precise, devastating.

*CRUNCHH*

It crushed directly into Barry’s balls, flattening them against his pelvis with a sickening thud. White-hot agony exploded through his groin.

He doubled over with a strangled scream, but she held him upright by the throat, her grip like iron.

“Oh, that felt good,” she moaned, voice husky with pleasure. She ground her thigh against his aching package, feeling the swollen orbs twitch. “Carla always said you had a nice set. Sensitive. Big enough to really play with.”
She stepped back just enough to slam her knee up again. This time harder.

*CRACK*

Barry’s vision whited out. His balls compressed brutally under the impact, sending nauseating waves of pain radiating into his stomach. He gagged, tears streaming down his face.

The entity laughed, a sound of pure delight. She grabbed the hem of his boxers, and with a flick of her wrist, his boxers were shoved down roughly, exposing his cock and balls to the humid air.

They were already reddening, starting to swell from the trauma.

“Look at them,” she cooed, wrapping her scarily long fingers around his sack. She squeezed—slowly at first, then tighter, rolling his testes between her palm and fingers like stress balls.

Barry bucked and howled, legs shaking. The pressure built mercilessly. Her black eyes sparkled with sadistic joy as she increased the force, feeling the delicate orbs deform under her grip.

“Please… stop…” he gasped.

“Beg louder. It makes me wet.” She leaned in, full lips brushing his ear.

Her hand twisted. Barry’s scream echoed through the endless rooms. She released his balls only to deliver another brutal knee strike
—

*SQUELCHH*

Full force, bare skin on bare skin. The impact lifted him slightly off the ground. His balls felt like they were being pulverized, crushed flat and rebounding with throbbing agony.

The entity dropped to her knees in front of him, still holding him steady. Her tongue—longer than a human’s, slick and black-tipped—slid out and licked slowly up his shaft, teasing the head of his unwillingly hardening cock. Then she sucked one swollen testicle into her mouth.
Barry whimpered as wet heat enveloped it. For a second, it was almost soothing.

Then her teeth grazed the orb.

She sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, applying vacuum pressure while her tongue massaged. The other ball she kneaded viciously in her hand, squeezing in rhythmic pulses timed to his sobs.

“These belong to me now, Barry. In the Backrooms, nothing ever leaves.” She popped the first ball from her mouth with a wet sound and smiled up at him, saliva glistening on her chin.

She rose, pressing her body against his again. This time she used her thigh in a sustained grind, then switched to sharp, repeated knee strikes—left, right, left—targeting his battered balls with expert precision.

*SQUELCH* *CRACK* *CRUNCH* *CRUNCHHH*

Each impact made a loud, meaty smack. His scrotum swelled larger, turning purple-red, the skin tight and shiny. His cock bobbed traitorously hard despite the torment, pre-cum dripping.

The entity stroked him slowly with one hand while the other cupped and crushed his balls.

“Cum for me while it hurts, show me how much you love this.” she commanded.

Barry’s body betrayed him. The mix of agony and unwanted pleasure built to a shattering peak. He came hard, ropes of semen spurting across her dress and the yellow carpet as she continued squeezing his pulsing balls through every contraction.

The pain only intensified the orgasm, leaving him a broken, twitching mess.

“We’re going to have so much fun together. Forever.” She licked her fingers clean, black eyes glowing with satisfaction.

Barry slumped to the damp carpet as she dragged him deeper into the Backrooms by his swollen, aching balls, her heels clicking a promise of endless torment. The lights buzzed on.