She has heard of it. It has been whispered about amongst her acquaintances. The circle she runs in. She doesn’t know them and they don’t know her, save her naked form and desires. Her tolerance for pain, her wants. They say that it once housed a loving family; a father, a mother, two little girls. They say the father chose the house because it was close to the city where he worked but enough in the country that his family could play and not be bothered by neighbors. They say the father was a quiet man, his time in the military putting him at ease with both peace and violence. He was a good man. Everyone says so. They say he was attractive. Strong, determined and intense. He knew everyone but no one knew him.
Several years ago, they say that his family left. No note, no explanation. Just gone. They say that for a time the man went to ground. The house that once held such joy became rundown. Weeds grew in the yard, the playset rusted. Shingles were missing from the roof and the white paint, now yellowed, began peeling from the wooden siding. The windows were no longer transparent, the rain and dirt having formed a thin layer of impenetrable mud. The power had been shut off at some point. The single pole light that stands outside of most early 20th century farm houses no longer shined.
The girl can see tattered curtains blowing from open windows on the first and second floors. The summer wind providing relief from the stifling humid air. She hears nothing but the buzz from insects in the overgrown yard. Her hesitation is apparent. The rumors she’s heard makes her heart pound with fear and anticipation. From a distance she could pass as a child, her small frame and budding breasts playing tricks on the casual observer. A closer look reveals a mature woman, confident and at ease with herself. Her eyes, her eyes are key. If one were to stare into them they would see her strength. They would see her want and desire tempered by a determination to experience herself through another. To completely lose herself in order to find herself. Her search has brought her here. To this house. She has always wanted it. From the first time she had overheard it revealed she knew she wanted it.
First one foot, then another. With each step she gets closer. The old paving stones shift beneath her feet, seeming to test her resolve. Forward she moves. The warped boards on the stairs leading up to the door creak as she disturbs their rest. She sees that the door is cracked open and darkness awaits her. She clears the five steps without noticing them. The door, now directly in front of her, swings slightly with each gust of wind, tempting her. Beckoning her to enter. If the rumors are true she will find a man inside. A man intent on bringing intense pain and searing pleasure together in a way she has only dreamed of. Slowly she pushes the old wooden door open.
Inside she sees dust hanging lazily in the air, slowly floating down to its final resting place on the antique furniture where it will remain. The setting sunlight casts long shadows throughout. She crosses the threshold. Slowly she makes her way through the house. The only sound is the ticking of the wall clock hanging in the kitchen and the rustle of the curtains. She sees no signs of life. It is dead. Dead inside just like the man. To her right a hallway opens up. She passes three doors, all closed and impassable. At the end of the hallway on the left she sees the only open doorway. A soft glow is seen, inviting her to come to it. She hesitates just outside, pure fear flowing through her. Shaking, she turns.
The room is different. It is clean yet still old. No dust. The dozens of lit candles that cover the room give off a powerful yet vacant smell. The walls are adorned in metal and leather. Her heart pounding she stares. Straps, cuffs, whips, masks and machines, all waiting, yearning to be used. Curiosity propels her to the nearest item. A black leather mask, no openings save a mouth tied with black leather lace. She continues her tour, running her finger along the wall, touching every tool of painful ecstasy. She turns her attention to the middle of the room. There sits a large bed, empty except for a black fitted sheet covering it. There are four tall, black, almost ebony posts rising from each corner. Hanging from each is a cuff on a chain. She moves to the foot.
Alone, she strips off her clothes and crawls across the bed. Slowly, deliberately, she cuffs each leg. Then her right arm. On the wall in front of her a shadow appears. She dares not look. She knows someone is in the doorway. The shadow remains motionless. She feels its’ eyes taking her in, drilling a hole into her naked form. Through the musk of the candles she smells sweat. The sweat from a man. She hears nothing but can see the shadow finally move. The shadow on the wall gets bigger, she know he’s coming for her. She can hear his breathing now, heavy, almost panting. She knows he wants her, and he’ll have her. She’s scared but intrigued. She has given herself up to whatever is about to happen. She feels weight on the bed and knows he’s behind her. Briefly she feels his hard dick brush her supple ass as he leans over her body. A hand comes into view. It’s large. The knuckles are the size of her fingers alone. It is devoid of watch or ring, only marred by scars earned long ago. It grabs the remaining cuff. Slowly it extends the cuff toward her wrist and shaking, she raises her left arm and gives it to him, allowing him to take away her last hope of resistance. She hears the metallic arm as it is pushed through the ratchets, clicking into place. One by one. Until she feels the pressure and knows that it is complete. The hand retreats. She feels the weight on the bed leave. She hears something move on the wall to her right but can’t see it. Suddenly something snaps on her ass and the pain flows through her body. This is what she wants. Instantly her pussy flows with juice, dripping. Her asshole flinches. The fear is intense. Before she can take a breath it comes down on her again. It feels soft yet firm, like strands of leather. Again and again it comes down, her ass, her back. Her body is pulsating in agony but the want is indescribable. Blood coats her but she barely notices. The anticipation is too much. On the verge of unconsciousness she feels something pressed against her asshole. The whipping stops, it is silent except for her cries. Slowly the pressure builds as the object is inserted, slipping past her muscle. It’s not big, but she feels it take up all the space she has. It’s warm and soft. It bends slightly as her asshole protests. She wonders how long it is, when it will stop moving. It stops. She hears nothing. She feels the man’s hot breath on her ass. Sharp teeth bite into her flesh, pulling. Time and again. Each time her asshole clinches around the object. From teeth to tongue, she can feel every little movement as it works its way around her rim. She tries to push into it but can’t move. The chains hold. His tongue slides from her asshole down to her cunt, then inside her. Tasting her. Now her clit, running along her lips to get there. Fast and stiff his tongue hits, engorging it with blood until it’s red and swollen, glistening with her juice and his saliva. She screams as his teeth clamp down on her bulging flesh, pulling as if trying to tear it off. She desperately wants to grab his head and bury it in her thighs. She needs to be fucked but has no control. She is helpless. She must wait. Her clit throbbing and numb, the man again disappears off the bed. Again she hears something scrape on the wall. A candle flickers. This time the bed doesn’t move as she feels a smooth, cold, hard metal object get shoved inside her dripping hole. Her ass grips whatever is inside it as her pussy tries to reject the cold metal but can do nothing to make it stop. Further it goes, further than she ever thought possible. In and out. It’s uncomfortable yet so unnatural she can’t help but want to feel it. In mid thrust a searing heat penetrates her mind and body. The hot wax being poured over her mixes with blood, burning only a few seconds before it hardens. She pulls at her chains with all her might trying to absorb the pain. Her whole body has become the center of feeling. She can’t think. Her eyes are open and the room is lit yet she can only see black. Time is lost. Unable to move and gasping for breath, she can feel her muscles giving out. Her body begins to go limp as it’s assaulted with each powerful thrust.
Slowly, as if waking from a dream, she becomes aware that the cold metal has stopped fucking her. Like a fish struggling to breath, her pussy gropes uncontrollably around it as it is pulled from within her. No more. She can’t take it. She has nothing left. She hears the mans’ ragged breathing and sees a hand to her right slide past, holding a knife. It’s black hilt dark as death. She can see the candle flames seeming to dance in merriment at her fate reflected in its’ blade. Her heart feels like it cannot beat any faster or harder. She’s scared. She’s scared but she wants whatever he has so bad. The knife touches her neck. Softly the blade slides across her throat. She can feel its’ razor edge and knows that if the man puts any pressure on it her skin would be laid open. She knows no one would find her for days. The man would leave and she would be chained here, her life’s blood seeping out. She can do nothing but submit. The man finishes his arc and pulls the knife away, nicking her neck. More blood. More pain. She waits for it to return, for him to finish it. Instead she watches as he slowly places the knife on the bed, away from her but still seen. A reminder of what may be.
Both hands free now, she can feel him adjust his position behind her. She dares to look underneath and catches a glimpse of his large, hairless balls. Perfectly cupped. Perfectly even. She shivers as they swing against her. His rigid shaft, a shadowy outline between two muscular thighs, is pointed directly at her cunt. Slowly he places his throbbing cock at the entrance to her quivering hole that’s been waiting to be fucked for so long by this man. His dick pushes past her lips, the tip, nothing more. She can feel the thick head of his meat, hot with lust, pulsating just inside her. Then his hands, strong and calloused, close around her throat and begin to squeeze. The hands grip so hard she can’t breathe. The pressure in her head builds, the blood straining to escape. As the wall in front of her blurs and she begins to descend into the black void of unconsciousness, she feels his monstrous cock break through her lips and blast into her. The pleasure is intense and the shock rises from her cunt straight to her head. Her eyes wide, she yearns to scream but the sound cannot escape his grasp. The man is not gentle, she is being fucked. In and out he fucks her, squeezing her neck tighter and tighter. She can feel his cum build the faster he goes and the harder he squeezes. Her asshole tries to cope but can only focus on keeping the object in. She feels herself losing control over the last thing in her possession, her sanity. Erotic bliss, joyful pain. Her mind is lost. She’s completely out of body. She feels as if it is happening to someone else but knows it’s not. Faster and harder he fucks, pulling her by her neck into him with each thrust. It’s too much, her climax explodes throughout her body, her cunt and ass clamping down like a vice. So hard it hurts. She can’t release, she can’t breathe, she can’t think. After what seems like hours her body lets go. Together her holes pulse faster than anything ever before as he fills her with his cum, her life seeming to drain out with each load she receives. Exhausted and shaking she collapses, only the chains holding her up. The man’s dick is still in her, she can feel it pounding as the last of its’ cum coats her insides.
Slowly the hands release their lock from around her throat and the blood comes rushing back through her body. She lies there, unable to move. She can feel his hard dick still straining against her, almost lifting her off the bed as his massive cock is gently pulled from her swollen cunt. Each vein and ridge felt as it slides along her walls. Her hole is left gaping. The bed shakes and one leg drops, then the other. Her arms fall to the bed but she hardly notices. She can’t. She can only lay there gasping for breath. She sees the man’s shadow, moving as it crosses the threshold and out, out of the doorway and out of her life. She will never know who he is. She is left alone with nothing but the burning candles and a memory.