I’ll always remember Rachel’s reaction that first night we spent in my dungeon. Standing next to the rack I witnessed, for
the first time, that intensely erotic look of eager masochistic anticipation in Rachel’s lovely eyes as she carefully set her
wine glass down on the racks rough wooden surface and hesitantly ran her fingers along the heavy iron chain that ended at one
of rack’s open wrist restraints.
When she spoke I could hear the mix of fascination and fear in Rachel’s almost whispered voice, “This place is truly a dungeon, nothing but a cruel and utterly barbaric torture chamber.” Pausing to look into my eyes Rachel continued, “Upstairs in your bed you more than fulfill my submissively masochistic need for pleasure mixed with just enough pain, but down here, in this place, I have no desire to ever experience even a moment of pleasure. This is a place reserved for torment, a place where I desire no limits and ask for no safe words, a place where all I ask is to suffer agonizing unrelenting torture for your amusement and yours alone.”
Finding myself suddenly at a loss for words, I simply watched as Rachel paused to retrieve her wine glass and taking a sip continued, “I can see it in your eyes, you intend to chain me down on this rack and spend the night brutally torturing me, taking cruel delight in my desperate screams of agony.”
Handing me her now empty wine glass a grin appeared on Rachel’s face as she glanced down at the noticeable bulge in the front of my pants, her hands already opening the zipper of her maid’s uniform, “And, since it appears you fully intend to use me sexually while I’m stretched upon the rack, I should be on my stomach so you can take me anally as often as you desire, I want you to repeatedly sodomize me, to hurt me, so use just enough spit to insure your personal satisfaction.”
In the years since that night Rachel has faithfully served as both my personal maid by day and my utterly submissive and masochistic lover by night. In truth, during our time together Rachel and I have spent far more nights down in the dungeon than in my bed. So it’s only fitting, that this night, our final night together, should be a night spent in the dungeon.
I could see that erotic mix of lust and fear in Rachel’s lovely eyes as I securely locked the heavy iron manacles tightly around each of her delicate wrists. Standing with her back to the spikes I couldn’t help but notice the enticing way, with each breath she took, the full ripeness of her breasts strained to escape the confines of the white silken bodice of her scandalously short maid’s uniform. Grasping a handful of Rachel’s long raven hair I roughly forced her head back until our lips met in an intimate lingering kiss that seemed to go on forever.
Finally breaking Rachel’s embrace, I ignored to look of shocked surprise in Rachel’s eyes as I firmly pulled down on the small wooden handle hanging on the wall next to where Rachel helplessly stood. Knowing, that in the dungeon, Rachel would never speak without permission I smiled at her growing look of confusion as I uncorked a bottle of wine and paused to pour a glass before looking up into her eyes, “Yes?”
“Sir, why did you kiss me, why did you decide to break our agreement?”
Darkly amused I said nothing and merely waited until the chains linking the manacles around Rachel’s wrists to the wall started to tighten, that sudden startled look of horror in Rachel’s eyes as she felt the chains tightening to stretch her arms outward as they slowly dragged her backward toward the spikes.
“Dearest Rachel, since this is going to be our final night together it only seemed fitting that I grant you that brief final moment of pleasure before the pain. As I recall, that first night spent down here in my dungeon you stated, ‘This is a place reserved for torment, a place where I desire no limits and ask for no safe words, a place where all I ask is to suffer agonizing unrelenting torture for your amusement and yours alone.’ What you failed to realize is that this dungeon is not just a place reserved for torment, but a place ultimately reserved for death.”
Laughing at the sudden look of shock visible on Rachel’s pretty face, “Or, are you truly naive enough to think that you were the only woman ever to submit to the torturous delights of this dungeon? You’re just the latest in a long line of beautiful women who’ve suffered and ultimately died in this place and I assure you, you will not be the last.”
Rachel suddenly cried out as she desperately arched her back to escape the cold iron spikes that had just brushed against her skin, but in her eyes, mixed with the terror and fear, I could already see that all too familiar look of submissive masochistic acceptance that I’ve come to expect from the women I allowed to share my life.
Realizing mere seconds remained before the chains pulled Rachel onto the deadly spikes I smiled as I casually mentioned, “I’ve adjusted the chains so that they’ll pull you back onto the spikes until your body is pressed firmly against the supporting iron framework and will continue to tighten until both your shoulders dislocate. Oh, and based upon the experiences of the dozen or so women who’ve already died upon those spikes you’ll have all night and most of the morning to enjoy your exquisitely torturous demise.”
Ignoring Rachel’s high pitched screams as the sharp iron spikes slowly impaled her body I paused to consider Rachel’s replacement, a pretty submissive named Megan. Megan will be arriving Monday morning, perhaps she’d look best in a light blue or a pink maid’s uniform considering Megan’s long red hair...