Alone in this horrifying place, Rachel stood, her wrists chained helplessly to the ceiling high above her.
Soon, Iíll be helplessly dying a slow and obscenely agonizing death within the torture chamberís diabolic Iron Maiden, enduring days of unspeakable torment merely for the sadistic amusement of a wealthy Islamic cleric from Iran. A non-Vacation Club VIP taking a secluded vacation at the Resort, this morning, he paid the Resortís concierge desk twenty million dollars for the opportunity to brutalize and torture to death an abducted American tourist.
When he arrives, he plans to rip the thong panties from my hips and anally rape me, with just enough lubricant to insure his pleasure. He intends to degrade and punish me like the shameless whore that he believes all America women to be. I already know, with the way he plans to use me that itís going to be incredibly painful, as he impales me balls deep on his Viagra enhanced cock with his first thrust. Trust me, the screams, and tears and to blood will be authentic. The only good news, that being eighty-nine years old, even with a drug enhanced erection, heís not likely to last more than a few minutes inside me before he finally climaxes.
After reaching orgasm, he'll roughly pull out of me, pausing to admire the lingering traces of my bold coating his softening cock before he unlocks the manacles from around my wrists. Freed from my restraints, Iíll submissively sink to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably with tears running down my cheeks. While behind me, he takes a knee as he pulls my unresisting arms behind my back and straps my wrists tightly together. With my wrists bound, heíll take a second strap, painfully using it to pull my elbows back until they touch before buckling it tight.
Still on my knees with my arms secured behind my back, heíll force me to take his flaccid cock in my mouth to clean off the lingering traces of blood and semen, my talented oral stimulation gradually causing him to regain his erection. Playing the part of a shameless American whore, Iíll proceed to give him one of the best blow jobs of his life, eagerly swallowing every last drop of his cum as he explodes deep within my mouth.
With his sexual desires sated, heíll pull me to my feet and drag me toward the waiting Iron Maiden as I shamelessly beg for my life. Reaching the Iron Maiden, heíll pause to open its door before roughly forcing me back into its deadly claustrophobic confines and strapping me tightly in place.
With me helplessly secured within the Iron Maiden, heíll slowly start to close the Iron Maidenís spike-lined door, calling me a worthless America whore, an infidel that richly deserves to die in slow unrelenting agony for my sins against the one true God.
Iíll scream in fear and desperately beg for mercy as I stare in terror at all those rows of razor-sharp spikes moving steadily closer, until I emit a long blood-curdling scream of unimagined torment as the Maidenís door finally locks closed, driving all those horrifying spikes agonizingly deep into my body.
Of course, heíll never know the truth, that while I used to be a whore, Iím not actually an American, Iím Canadian. Back in 1986, I was a professional submissive at a BDSM brothel near Vancouver when a representative from the Resort recruited me to become a Resort companion.
Of course, while Iím not technically an abducted American tourist, the fear in my eyes as I watch the door of the Iron Maiden closing will be absolutely authentic. I find the very thought of dying upon the Iron Maidenís spikes utterly horrifying. To helplessly endure several brutally torturous days, slowly dying in unrelenting agony merely for the sickly twisted amusement of a complete stranger, was one of my darkest erotic fantasies long before I actually experienced it for the first time back in 1987. After that, death within the Maiden simply became my darkest erotic nightmare...