Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Dribbles - 4. Leather and Chains
‘What…’I raise my head and groan. My neck hurts. Heavy chains rattle when I try to bring my arms up to rub it. My eyes snap down and I feel them widen as I take in the manacles around my wrists in shock. I can barely move my arms an inch. I try moving my feet and they feel chained as well. My head slumps back and hits the rough wall behind me. ‘I did it.’
“I see you are awake.” A tall man walks into the room and I find my eyes drawn to him as I try to speak. My words come out as grunts. There is a gag in my mouth. 'How did I miss that?’
“There will be no need for you to talk. You know why you are here.”
I moan. I’m shaking a little, my eyes following him as he walks around the room. Torch lights lit the walls dimly from their brackets. I go rigid when I see what is hanging on the walls. He is fingering one of them and pulls it down from the metal hook.
“Mmmph.”
He smirks at me. “Do you like it? Braided leather over a solid oak handle. The snap is exquisite.”
It’s getting harder to breathe through my nose as I start panting, my throat swelling, muscles straining, as I try to say something; anything.
He stalks over to a table in front of me I failed to notice before; I was too busy watching him. At the sight of the things that littered its surface I strain at my chains, fighting to move. I recognize shiny metal nipple clamps, some smooth and some clawed. An assortment of candles already burning, rope, several large wooden shapes lay side by side. ‘Oh my god… the one on the end was covered in spikes.’
‘No! No way!’
I shake my head at him. “Mmph!”
He watches where my eyes go from him to the table. Slowly, his hands begin to fondle the items on the table. The leather items draw his attention the most, his hands tracing up and down the dark oiled surfaces. Almost in a trance I watch those hands with their long slender fingers caress each tool of pain and then set aside item after item. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, a quivering sensation that is threatening to turn into full blown…
Those fingers stop and I feel my eyes go wide.
“Oh yes. I think we’ll start with this.”
The chains are the only things that keep me from falling to the stone floor. I beg with my eyes, garbled words behind the gag make no sense as I try to plead with him. He moves to stand in front of me; his free hand traces my face, circling the gag stretching my mouth wide open. I can smell the leather and wax on his fingers. I am shaking as I stare into his icy blue eyes looking down at me so coldly.
‘What did I get myself into?’
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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