It was almost midnight. Dana had just finished reading a recently released gothic horror novel written by one of her favorite authors and was standing in the warmth of the fireplace in
the library, enjoying a final glass of wine before going to bed.
Earlier that evening, she’d arrived home from work, pausing to light the fireplace before going upstairs to change out of her business clothing into some racier lingerie and a heavy, oversized sweater. Then, returning downstairs to the library, Dana curled up in her favorite leather chair and switched on her e-book reader.
As the evening gradually passed into night, the library grew steadily warmer as the fireplace continued to burn. Pausing to open a bottle of wine, Dana decided it was getting too warm to wear her heavy sweater, so she slipped it off and dropped it on the other chair, and wearing just her lingerie, continued reading.
With the grandfather clock out in the hall chiming midnight, Dana stared into the flames as she sipped her wine, contemplating the author’s latest tale of darkly diabolic horror. His newest novel shared the same underlying theme as all his earlier works, the main character. The heroine never survives the story. In the end, she dies a horrifically gruesome death. Still, in his latest book, the heroine died a far more horrific death than the author employed in his previous works.
To be abducted by a sinister butcher who intends to spend days subjecting you to brutal, unrelenting torture while at the same time using your body to sate all his darkly perverse sexual desires. To be naked and stretched agonizingly taut on the rack while he uses whips and red-hot skewers to mutilate your body simply for his sadistic amusement. All the while, he continues to slowly tighten the rack, each notch tighter drawing fresh screams of agony from your lips.
A delightful shiver of fear coursed through Dana’s scantily clad body at the thought of becoming that helplessly doomed heroine, chained tautly upon that rack, watching in horror as that sadistic monster places a handful of skewers into the flames and picks up that whip.
From Dana’s perspective, it all sounded like pure masochistic heaven...