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Dungeon - B&D type sex
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"Dungeon" (a highly cliched story, full of leather, satin, velvet,
metal, and - I warn you - what looks like some pretty
nonconsensual sexual activity, although I didn't think
of it that way when I imagined it)
From Sadik.
She felt a gush of cold air around her ankles and heard the slight
creak of hinges as a door opened. A splayed hand on the small of her
back firmly nudged her forward. Tentatively she moved, her bare feet
seeking out and negotiating stone steps. The folds of the velvet cloak
she wore parted as she moved and its satin lining suddenly grew cold
as icy air swirled around her naked flesh, hardening her nipples and
brushing her cheekbones below the seam of the velvet and satin
blindfold.
Gingerly she groped her way down the stairs, the hand on her back
deftly guiding her until she reached their end and stood on a harsh,
cold stone floor. The hand, large and muscular, encircled her small
wrist and she was led some meters from the stairs. There her arms were
lifted, one after the other, and locked, with the smooth rasp of a
key, into snug velvet lined manacles. Chains attached to them held her
arms slightly raised and away from her body. Her ankles were likewise
chained, her feet held perhaps a foot apart. Heavy footsteps receded,
and then she heard the protesting grind of metal against metal. The
chains around her ankles tautened, tugging at her legs until her feet
rested a meter apart. More sound, her arms were pulled, her hands were
held apart the same distance, raised above her head. She stood
spread-eagled as the footsteps approached until she could hear a man's
slow and heavy breathing in front of her.
A hand touched her face, its rough fingertips tracing down her cheek,
to trail down her neck, over the clasp of the cloak, over her shoulder
and down to cup her breast, a thumb slowly circling her nipple. A
second hand cupped her other breast, its thumb tracing the same circle
and then departing. The first hand continued down, over her stomach,
to caress her soft thighs and brush against the lips of her cunt. Then
two hands were lifted to her throat to unfasten the cloak. It fell to
the floor and the chill stillness of the room enfolded her. The man
stepped away, and she felt the chains that bound her arms slacken. Two
hands upon her shoulders pressed downwards, and she dropped awkwardly
to her knees, her arms once more held stiffly above her. She felt
pressure against her lips, parted them, and her captor's prick
penetrated her mouth. For a few minutes she sucked, his cock thrusting
deep enough that she had to fight not to gag. Two hands sought her
breasts, forefingers and thumbs closing over her nipples, pinching
with increasing pressure until pain forced a muffled moan from her
lips; immediately both hands and penis withdrew.
Footsteps receded, then approached from behind. She heard a sharp
crack, the whistling of air, the violent meeting of leather and flesh,
and felt an agonizing stinging lash across her buttocks. Again and
again this was repeated, ten times more a whip bit into her flesh,
leaving smarting red prints on her bottom and making her cry out.
Once more he entered her mouth, again thick fingers pinched and
twisted her nipples, bruising the delicate flesh. This time she
suppressed her moans, and when hands and cock withdrew it was not to
whip her but to grasp her arms, haul her to her feet, and tighten her
chains.
This time he penetrated her cunt. One arm held her, tilting her hips
forward, and supporting her back. His prick brushed through her pubic
hair, passed with an electric thrill over her clitoris, pushed apart
her lips and thrust into her. His thrusts were deep, slow and
thorough. A pin-point of cold pressure shocked her back. She felt a
metal iciness trace down her spine, solidifying into a long thin metal
shaft that ran fleetingly along the crease of her buttocks and was
abruptly brought to her lips and pressed into her mouth. Now wet with
her saliva, the rod returned to her buttocks, slipped between the two
still smarting halves and thrust into her ass. Her captor synchronized
his thrusts with flesh and metal for some moments, and then his prick
withdrew.
A second metal rod, much larger than the first, pressed against the
lips of her cunt. A thigh pressed the back of her own, pushing her
forward onto the twin metal shafts. A second pressure in front of her
pushed her back, and then came a pause as she was poised, the two cold
shafts pressing against her two entrances. So she stood for a moment,
and then the metal rods were removed. A thin whistle in the air warned
her before she felt the stinging bite of a single whip lash. The metal
rods were pressed against her again, again she was pushed onto them,
again pushed back, again came the pause and again they were removed.
She felt a cold fumbling at her nipples, and felt the pressure of tiny
clamps being fitted on them - a pressure that quickly mounted through
discomfort to pain. Again a whip cracked across her bottom, not once
but twice, eliciting a sob from her that was checked by a third lash.
Once more the twin rods returned to press against her, and this time
she understood what was demanded of her. She pushed herself forward,
straining against the chains, and impaled herself on the metal shafts.
Over and over she thrust forward, painfully aware of the parting of
her flesh, of the penetration of her cunt and ass that she herself was
causing.
Hands on her arms indicated to her to stop and the metal rods left
her. She felt her captor's hips press against her bottom, and felt his
hands force apart her inflamed buttocks. His prick grazed the inner
sides of her cheeks and rested against her ass. For a moment he
remained so, and then he slowly penetrated her. She felt every inch of
him slowly enter her, and gasped at his size. His fingers felt for her
breasts, tugging at the clamps there. She tried to muffle her cries as
he fucked her ass, first slowly, then with mounting speed and
brutality. In the end she screamed as he came, his weight dragging on
the chains that held her, his fingers convulsively twisting the clamps
on her nipples.
Sadik [email protected]
"In the blood and metal, in the scent and mascara, on a backcloth of
lashes and stars... Love is a many splintered thing."
- Andrew Eldritch.
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