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I couldn’t recall how I came to be in this place but I instinctively understood its horrifying purpose, brutal agonizing torturous death.
At the center of the chamber stood two tall wooden posts, linked by a raised steel rod from which hung a set of ominous looking wrist restraints. I
felt my heart quicken as I stared at those waiting restraints. How many people had spent the final agonizing moments of their lives locked within the
unyielding steel embrace of those restraints? It was almost as if I could hear the terrified screams of all the countless victims who’d died within
this ancient torture chamber. I could even smell the faint acidic scent of copper in the cool dungeon air, the distinctive lingering scent of spilled blood.
And yet, how did I come to be here? And what happened to my clothes?
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I’d spent the day working at the museum warehouse cataloging ancient artifacts for an upcoming exhibit of early Sumerian and Babylonian religious practices. The
last thing I remembered I’d come home, taken a shower and was lying on the bed reading the latest news from a new archeological dig in modern day Mesopotamia. Using
the latest in satellite thermal imaging a team of archeologists discovered a vast network of ancient underground temples in the mountains of northern Iraq, temples
built in honor of Ereshkigal, the ancient Sumerian goddess of death.
It seemed was so unfair, here I was with a fresh doctorate in archeology, stuck working in a dusty museum warehouse while out in the world there was so many
archeological discovery’s to be made. Who knew what groundbreaking discovery’s they’d find as they explored those ancient temples? Perhaps these were the temples
of the long rumored death cult of the early Sumerian worshipers of Ereshkigal. They might even prove the rumors of the ancient human sacrifice to be true.
I was just thinking what I’d give to uncover the truth concerning the darkly hinted rumors of human sacrifice to the death goddess Ereshkigal when a sudden wave
of dizziness swept over me and then I felt myself falling into darkness.
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I’m not sure just how long I stood there, almost as if spellbound, just staring up at those ominously waiting restraints, the sight of them terrifying, and yet
somewhere deep down in my subconscious I desperately longed to feel their cold steel presence locked tightly around my wrists.
Without fully realizing I was doing it, I stepped closer to those diabolically compelling restraints in order to get a closer look and felt my heart go cold with
terror. The restraints hanging before me could never fit a man’s wrists they were far too small, these were made only to restrain a woman.
It was then that I suddenly saw him. He appeared out of nowhere, he didn’t simply step out of the shadows he materialized before my very eyes.
As he walked toward me our eyes met for the first time and a sudden unexpected sensation of pure burning lust overwhelmed my senses. It was as if I was in the
presence of one of the ancient gods, he was so incredibly masculine, so virile, so powerful, so domineering. In that single moment I knew that I’d gladly do anything asked of me.
Nergal, the ancient Sumerian god of war and the husband of Ereshkigal, stepped into the flickering firelight of the torture chamber and marveled in the breathtaking
beauty of his wife’s latest acquisition. Not since they’d enslaved Helen of Troy all those millennia ago had he gazed upon such beauty, this young woman would make a
lovely addition to his wife’s sable of willing pleasure slaves.
Then and with an almost negligent wave of his hand, the already immodest top of the young pleasure slave's negligee simply turned to dust and fell away, revealing her firm
ample bosom before his demanding gaze.
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Struggling to keep her overwhelmed libido in check as she felt the last vestiges of her self-control slipping away she put her hands on her hips and struck a provocative pose
as she said, “That was a nice trick, making my top turn to dust. Well, I hope you’re enjoying the view.”
Nergal paused before the young woman to momentarily admire both her beauty and her spirit. It was exceedingly rare for a woman, and a mere mortal one at that, to summon enough
self-control to actually speak in his presence. He smiled at her insolence, but insolence isn’t a desirable trait in a pleasure slave even one as compellingly beautiful as
this. Let’s see how insolent this pleasure slave still is after she’s broken.
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I stood there utterly unable to resist as he grasped my right wrist and raised it toward its waiting restraint, the mere touch of his hand causing unimaginable sensations of
pure animalistic lust coursing through my trebling body.
Closing my eyes I reveled in the cool hardness of that first restraint as he locked it around my slender wrist. Then as he took my remaining wrist in his hand I suddenly felt
his other hand press against my belly as he roughly pulled me back against him.
A faint moan of carnal delight escaped my lips, his chest and belly felt as hard as stone as he held me tightly back against him. The touch of his body against me awakened a
feeling of erotic lust deeper than any I’d ever experience or even imagined possible before. In that moment I wanted him to take me, to possess me, to dominate me more
profoundly than any man I’d even known.
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Fighting to retain what little of my composure that remained I reached up with both hands and grasped the steel bar above to steady myself as he bound my ankles and knees
tightly together with leather straps.
The intensity of the emotions coursing through me was like nothing I’d experienced or even imagined possible. I’ve secretly enjoyed having men dominate me during sex. That
delightful feeling of erotic surrender I always felt when a man would force my wrists together behind my back or pin my arms to the bed above my head as we made love. But
nothing I’d ever experience could have prepared me for this moment, this place or this man.
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I watched helplessly as he finished strapping my knees together. The look in his eyes telling me that he’d clearly noticed the extent of my sexual arousal, the way my
arousal already soaked the crotch of my panties and coated my inner thighs.
For one timeless moment we stood there gazing deeply into each other’s eyes and for the first time in my life as a slave. A momentary sense of panic and doubt filled my mind,
was this truly the life I wanted? But the look in his eyes instantly vanquished my doubts and any lingering inhibitions I might have had.
Then for the first time he smiled but in that moment I saw a change in his eyes, the searing flames of lust were still there but they had a new and unexpectedly ominous look
of cruelty. It was at that moment that the sword materialized in his hand.
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The sword looked impossibly sharp and incredibly deadly. I trembled as sudden waves of intense terror exploded through me as I suddenly recalled this places true purpose, this
wasn’t a place of passion but one of brutal agonizing torturous death.
I desperately wanted to beg for my life, to beg for his mercy and yet, the raw heart pounding feelings of lust remained and as they and the terror mixed I experienced a sudden
and utterly unexpectedly powerful sensation of wonton libertine pleasure.
Staring into his eyes I knew that like all the other women who’d visited this place I too was about to die an agonizingly painful death. And yet, as impossible as it seems, I
wanted, no I desperately longed, to die by his hand.
I smiled with sudden understands and said something I’d never expected to say, “Master, this willing slave wishes to die in agony for your amusement. Please, Run Me Through.”
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I screamed as he thrust that razor sharp blade through my belly. The pain was so sudden and so all consuming, like nothing I’d even imagined enduring. I could actually feel the sword’s
cold steel presence within my guts as he cruelly twisted the blade inside of me, each diabolical twist of the blade sending fresh white hot explosions of pain coursing through my dying body.
As I stood there impaled upon his sword I could already feel myself going into shock. I was growing weaker and colder by the second, my life draining away around the sword in my guts.
Staring up into his cold cruel eyes I knew that I only had a few moments left. But it was the look in those eyes, that compellingly erotic mix of lust and utter cruelty that made
me smile and say, “Thank you Master.”
Then the overwhelming pain slowly began to recede as the darkness finally claimed me.
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My dreams had never been this intense, that terrifying nightmare of agonizing death and now an intensely erotic dream of sexual ecstasy.
I dreamt I was making love. I was on my back beneath him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, my wrists pinned to the bed high above my head by his hands. He was like
an unstoppable force of nature, his cock was so impossibly thick and hard, and with every powerful thrust he filled me so completely I felt the tip of his cock pressing up
against my cervix. I could feel myself beginning to climax with the most powerful orgasm of my life. And when it came it was like nothing I’d ever experienced, powerful waves
of orgasmic ecstasy utterly overwhelming my senses. An seeming unending wave of orgasms seemed to hit me, I just kept coming and coming until it felt like my heart was going
to explode out of my chest.
It was then that I finally opened my eyes and discovered I hadn’t been dreaming. His eyes were the same. That unmistakable mix of lust and cruelty that I’d seen as I’d died. It was
him, the man who’d so brutally butchered my in that dungeon torture chamber, my Master.
Thoughts of terror and ecstasy coursed through me, thoughts of pain and pleasure, thoughts of sex and death. How could all this be happening to me? How could it even be possible?
It was then, in that moment of total confusion, that I heard his voice for the first time. He didn’t speak, his lips never moved, but I heard his voice clearly in my mind. Staring
down at me he smiled, his powerful all consuming cock embedded deep within my sex, his simply asked “Welcome to eternity in the Mesopotamian Underworld, I am the god Nergal, another
orgasm my little pleasure slave?”
Staring up into Nergal’s eyes I tightened my legs around his waist and gleefully nodded, I could already feel my next orgasm building somewhere down around the rock hard head of his cock.