It was a cold rain swept night, high in the Bavarian Alps, a beautiful, provocatively dressed woman alone in an ancient German castle. And
yet, even knowing she was truly alone with the castle’s gate securely locked, Scarlet's vivid imagination still ran wild with thoughts of all
that might happen.
Perhaps, somewhere in the dark, blood-soaked depths of the castle’s ancient dungeons crept a horrific fiend, a creature more monster than a man, a monster who at this every moment intently watched as hot irons began to glow in the flesh searing fires of the brazier. A cruel and sadistic beast, glancing at the dungeon’s diabolically torturous rack, imagined Scarlet's sexy body stretched impossibly taut, Scarlet's desperate screams echoing off the dungeon’s cold unfeeling walls as he cruelly tightened to rack another painfully agonizing notch.
Pausing by the warmth from the fire, Scarlet listened to the wind-swept rain pounding against the ancient stained-glass windows of the castle’s study as she took another sip from her wine. Darkly submissive thoughts raced through her mind as she imagined herself stretched invitingly upon the rack, her voluptuous nude body helplessly available to sate all of this monster’s darkest and evilly perverted sexual desires. And yet, to know, deep down, there will be no escape. That she’s fated to spend her final dying days in unrelenting agony upon that torturously painful rack. That cruel monstrous fiend taking diabolical delight in her screams, as he subjects her to long hours of unspeakable torture, the smooth white flesh of her desirable body cruelly mutilated by the attentions of his whips, hot irons and all the countless instruments of brutal medieval torment he might choose to inflict upon her helpless vulnerable body.
And yet, Scarlet was still standing alone by the warmth from the fire, a half-finished glass of wine in her hand as her darkly erotic imagination ran rampant. Deep within her loins she could feel that familiar heat of sexual arousal delightfully starting to consume her belly as the skin-tight clinging fabric of her leotard tormented her painfully throbbing nipples with every breath she took.
Sometimes, dark fantasies truly deserve to be indulged, especially if they’re not merely fantasies...