The Chamber

THE CHAMBER

The chamber’s being put to use.  A young, beautiful woman has unknowingly lent herself as the latest victim to receive the wrath of a white slavery ring and worse.  Young and beautiful, unfortunate enough to having set out on her own and applying to an add for a fictitious position as a tutor, her naivety has led her to this destination at a secluded estate, her initial time in its chamber having her being used and abused by sadistic members of a wealthy and perverted club who assume roles and indulge themselves in the torture of attractive women. 

Part One

Chapter One

Responding to the acrid aroma of the broken capsule whiffed from side to side beneath her nostrils, she groggily finds herself being painfully drawn taut, her practically naked body straining in the harsh bindings of her wrists and ankles into an arched spread-eagled contortion. Facing a darkened, harsh stone wall, her tendons, muscles beneath her tugged arms and stretched legs glisten as they stand out while she frantically glances through her glazed eyes back and forth, from side to side toward the four stiff, creaking ropes hoisting her flush against the curved wooden surface.  Grunting, struggling for breath, her heart pounds in her chest as her eyes adjust to the shadows.

Jaws aching with a rumpled rag stuffed deep between her yawning lips, she feels her extremities being jerked, stretched fractions of an inch at a time in sequence with a noticeable clanking noise reverberating in the background.  The shadowed walls in front of her flickering from a couple torches mounted in blackish, iron brackets, the surreal scene somehow seems out of a ‘B’ grade horror film in her blurred state as she’s overwhelmed by her unnerving predicament, something beyond comprehension.  Barely remembering spending the evening in the guest’s bedroom after interviewing for the supposed job offering, now awakening to this horror, the dread’s overwhelming.   

Continuing to contort, the constant tightening of the ropes digging into her wrists, ankles, the overall pressure already painful, rapidly becoming unbearable with each pronounced tug, her fingernails reflexively scrap, claw into her palms.  Toes twisting, curling just above the iron grates of a drainage system inlaid between the patterns of stones in the flooring beneath her arching body as she horrifyingly comes to her senses, she realizes she’s already been practically stripped naked, now being slowly drawn on some sort of insidious apparatus.  Grunting through the stifling rag jammed deep in her throat, furiously blinking her widening eyes, shaking her head back and forth, the constant noise of each pain inducing maneuver of the apparatuses’ lever reverberates from behind, echoes off those surrounding walls.  ‘Clank……………………… Clank…………………….. Clank!’

Straining, being stretched ever tauter, her painfully extended body continuing to arch with her chest thrusting further forward with each halting lurch while her barely covered breasts jaunt wider apart in what’s left of her torn bra, she senses her body continuing to curl, bow outward as the aligned set of notched planks positioned behind her continues pressing across the small of her back.  Eyes welling, the flickering shadowed stone walls surrounding her more then ominous, the mounting fear mixed with the physical pain overrides her unnerving thoughts as the resonating ropes insidiously creak with their calculated contractions.  Heart thumping in her chest, the number of spaced ‘clanks’ echoing in her ears seemingly every few seconds, she relentlessly struggles with being painfully drawn, arched, contorted in the agonizing bindings.

Moaning, grunting as she attempts to twist in the unrelenting, creaking ropes, another harsh ‘clank’ forcing her bulging breasts to plop free across her arching torso, the glistening mounds bounce even further apart, spreading toward her hollowed armpits as their youthful fullness overflow the once stylish French cut cups of her tattered brassiere, its wide side straps still burrowing painfully into her taut ribcage.  Grunting, drooling through the gagging cloth pressed between her yawning jaws as her dark eyes dart down toward the bluish veins standing out, tracing beneath the almost translucent flesh of her symmetrical, oval mounds being firmly formed by the tautness of her straining, aching chest, her groans, her muffled gasps echo off the stone walls as the torn bra’s strap finally bursts, barely holding together by just a shred of elastic material behind her bowed back.

“Oomph!”  Shuffling, twisting, struggling to somehow relieve the strain of her bindings, glancing down between her now naked breasts, across the dark ovals of her flattened areoles, she senses her shredding panties also riding up between her thighs, what’s left of the elastic ‘G’ string burrowing deeper into the crease of her taut buttocks along with the constant sounds of the insidious ‘Clank………. Clank………. Clank…………………………. Clank!’  The searing pain excruciating, her bound wrists, ankles practically raw, her virtually nude body seemingly drawn to what she frightfully realizes must be dangerously close to its physical limits, her glistening muscles ache as she fruitlessly resists.

A few more clanks, sensing her joints on the verge of dislocating, finally relenting, bowing her head back, her matted hair clings against the wooden surface as she succumbs to the insidious stretching, the unbearable pain.  Rasping harshly for breath through her flaring nostrils while her tautly stretched body beads with perspiration, arched out and practically vibrating across the front of the apparatus, tears well, drip from her chin across her heaving sternum.  Sensing footsteps approaching across the stone floor, blinking two, three times to clear the tears, she tries to focus on the silhouette of what appears to be some sort of a dark robed monk out of the corner of her eye.  Apprehensively following him stepping around in front of the apparatus as she also realizes the ‘clanking’ sound’s finally ceased with his appearance, again her agonizing predicament seems more then surreal in the shadows of the dungeon as she watches him glaring toward her humiliating position.

Heavily hooded in a scarlet full bodied garment, only the piercing reflection of his eyes, the grayness of his beard visible from the fullness of the shroud covering his head, she can’t help noticing the glistening dampened leather lash flipping back and forth in his cupped fist, the split ends of almost jet black supple leather threateningly flicking across the stone floor.  An occasional snap of his wrist, the crack of the flexing leather, the ominous sounds’ even more unsettling as it replaces the insidious ‘clanking’ sound that was coming from behind the apparatus.

Her trembling body pain wracked, virtually immobile on the rack, pleadingly staring toward his silhouette through her welling eyes as he steps menacingly forward, she frantically locks on his free hand reaching slowly out toward her bared chest.  His fingers curling across the strap dividing the torn, tattered cups barely hanging beneath her bulging, melon sized mounds she can’t help watching his clenched fist firmly gripping at the remnants of the once expensive lace material.  A frightening, piercing glare returned from beneath the hood, a brief hesitation before a harsh jerk followed by the tearing sound, she feels the bra ripped from beneath her bouncing breasts with one forceful tug.

Her glistening breasts bobbing, swaying freely apart, his hand reaching up, a throbbing nipple being momentarily tweaked, twisted between his fingernail and thumbnail until both breasts becomes somewhat stationary, she senses his unhesitating hand’s manipulating fingers sliding down across her protruding ribcage.  Scraping across her flattened, rippling stomach, even lower, again gripping and twisting at what was an expensive undergarment; she holds her breath while instinctively closing her eyes.  His nerve-wracking hesitation before forcefully ripping at the remnants of her panty, the narrow band scrapping through her parted labium, the cloth painfully stretches as it rips out from between her thighs, drags across the puffy nub of her tugged clit.  Again her now naked body arched forward in her bindings as he steps back, gives a final, harsh jerk, drops the ruined underwear, she pleadingly grunts through the gag as she squints toward his other hand welding the menacing whip.

Frantically watching him from between her pair of puckering nipples humiliatingly standing out, jiggling across the full mounds of her thrust out breasts as she realizes she’s not only totally naked but virtually helpless to receive whatever abuse he obviously has in store for her with the crop’s tips menacingly flicking back and forth across the stone floor, she gnaws down on the gag, her nostrils flaring with each harassed breath.  Anticipating the worst as he ominously positions himself to the front and toward her side, the whip still dangling in his tightening fist, she anxiously waits, anticipates while again slowly shaking her head pleadingly back and forth, realizing his piercing eyes are focusing toward her bare breasts, even worse, directly on her upturned nipples.  Eyes transfixed toward the flexing leather, her fingers clenching, spreading apart, retracting into fists again and again as the whip curls back and forth in wider, ever menacing arches, she can hear the ominous cadence of the split tips scraping harshly across the floor.

Inhaling, momentarily holding a deep breath, the streaking tears blurring her eyes, her long muffled groan again echoes off the walls as she surreally watches the tips of the whip being snapped upward above his head, the snake like leather coiling, curling forward, flailing outward, slinging through the air perpendicularly toward her hoisted breasts as the terrifying swishing sound almost overwhelms her senses.

‘Thwaaaack!’

“Aaaggghhh!”  Releasing a gasping grunt as spittle spews from her gnawed gag, her eyes squinting tightly shut, she feels the force of the whip, the excruciating pain of the willowy leather burrowing itself across her bare tit flesh.  The supple leather striking her breasts, embedding itself just below both dark areolas across her outthrust mounds, she senses her breasts momentarily flattened, almost instantly jerked outward, bounce free as he tugs the whip back from her naked body with an unsympathetic harsh flick of his wrist.

“Oomph!”  The sharp, crisp pain searing in her heaving chest, the whip snapping away, its curling tips almost instantly recoiling behind his hooded head yet again, her tear filled eyes blink open, widen just in time to see the flexing leather again looping, flicking forward a second time, again slanted toward her still bouncing, welted breasts, again toward the visible bright red vertical welt already streaking across her bare flesh.

‘Swish… Thwack!’

“Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!!”  A harsher shriek, again the willowy leather embedding well into her tit flesh, the second lashing directed across both nipples flattening the nubs, her head jerks back above her straining shoulders as saliva drips from her chin, clings to her sternum while her breasts again stretch outward along with the whip’s split tails drawn forcefully away with another harsh jerk of his wrist.

Perspiration already beading, glistening across her bouncing, globular mounds, tracing across most of the rest of her nude flesh, she incoherently moans, grunts as her heartbeat pounds in her aching breasts with each thumping pulse.  Her head snapping forward between her stretched arms, momentarily glaring down toward the cause of the searing pain, the fresh pair of red welts crisscrossing her naked breasts, both nipples jiggling, already swelling and bruised, she can’t help staring back out toward the ever flexing whip in his clenching fist, the split tips again dragging back and forth across the floor as his piercing eyes stay riveted on their mark.  His robed body twisting, aligning itself with her bound, bowed posture on the rack while preparing for another lashing, again watching his forearm relentlessly backhanding outward toward her bare chest for a third time, she squints, shuts her eyes and holds her breath with the anticipation of the unrelenting pain.

‘Swish…. Thwack!’

“Aaaaaagggggghhhhhhh!”

‘Swish… Thwack!’

“Aaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhh!”  From backhanded to a forehand, the curling whip relentlessly borrowing once, twice in rapid succession into her titflesh, the first above, then another below the jiggling nipples, her naked body uncontrollably arches forward, a trail of saliva spewing from the ragged drenched cloth between her clamping teeth.  Gasping for breath, fingernails grinding into her palms, her rolling, blurred eyes widening, now glued to the black snake flicking forward yet again, she watches the coiling leather ominously flinging directly toward the center of her chest, again slashing across her puffy nipples; biting unmercifully into her bulging breasts.

“Ooooommmppphhh!”  Another flash of searing pain, the coiled leather ripping back, stretching her breasts outward again in its clutches as her naked body’s drawn forward with it, she senses the reflexive release of a spurt of urine trickling down between her quivering thighs, her head again jerking back past her taut arms, nostrils flaring as she gasps for breath.

Gagging, coughing while again her head drops forward, the mounting crisscrossed stripes glisten on her heaving breasts as she’s barely able to make out the purplish welts through her glazed, swollen eyes.  The whip hanging down to the monk’s side, the blurred sight of him curling its dampened, split tips in the palm of his free hand; step past her and out of sight, she feels a sort of brief moment of relief, a reprieve until she hears the single ‘clank’ in the background, feels the strains in her arms and legs tensing again in the creaking ropes while her aching, bruised breasts momentarily jiggle, her body again arching tautly further back to the now familiar sound. “Clank… Clank…… Clank!’

Involuntarily trembling, barely coherent, her naked body pain wracked, the creaking sound of a heavy door opening from behind the apparatus she’s hoisted on, molded too, on the edge of consciousness she barely notices the light casting past, spreading across the shadowed far wall as her overriding pain’s on the edge of unbearable.  Again the hinges’ creaking sound echoing in the stone chamber, the light fades into the flickering shadows.  Other footsteps, not as harsh across the dark floor, she wonders if she’s hallucinating or if it’s really a pair of what appears to be Nuns that’s entered, positioning themselves to either side of her as she slowly cranes her neck back and forth with what’s left of her strength, again the ‘clanking’ sound finally ceasing.

The eldest appearing Nun in a more traditional garb, her black and white habit crisp and clean, her expressions’ sober as her attention silently dwells on the rack.  The youngest of the pair wearing all white in the similar styled garb but also with gloves, she’s carrying a lidless whicker basket in both hands.  Sitting the open container down in front of the rack, carefully handling the contents, strands of thorned branches, she stretches, unwinds the individual strands before silently slipping the longest one between Jodi’s backside and the curved wooden surface.  The eldest gripping, manuvering the briskling vine’s cropped end as it slips outward, she reaches across Jodi’s heaving breasts, grips the other end of the row of thorns, nods toward the novice.

Jodi’s naked body stretched, yet her battered breasts limp with just the slightest pulsing movement with each pounding heartbeat, the novice obeying the elder’s lead, reaches up, flattens both welted mounds with her fingertips, firmly presses inward just below Jodi’s bruised nipples as the Nun shifts, stretches the strands of thorns out across both glistening breasts.  Adjusting the sharp barbs directly across the flattened areolas, calculatingly aligning the jagged points to puncture the nub of each nipple, she stretches the vine sadistically taut.

“Oomph!... Aaaaaagggggghhhhhhh!”  Reacting to the excruciating pain of the jagged thorns, instantly jerking in her restraints, unable to refrain a groan followed by a screech through the stuffed rag as the prickling tips burrow, pierce her flattening mounds while the Nun twists, tightens the ends of the branch together along her bare side, Jodi’s body reflexively trembles in her bindings as her breasts painfully flatten beneath the binding branch.  Jerking her head back and forth, her areolas, nipples glistening with droplets of blood as the jagged pointed spikes grip, adhere to her tender tit flesh; the strand sinks in above the novice’s fingernails as Jodi rasps, struggles for breath.

Reaching out for another flexing stem, looping it above one marred breast, below the other, again aligning and twisting the prickling branch, the Nun forces the additional barbs even deeper into the flattening mounds.

“Aaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhh!”  A rasping screech, an uneven row of specks of blood beading across her bare flesh, Jodi’s naked body arches, jerks as she twists across the curved, wooden surface, the newest pain immeasurable to the flogging.  Feeling another number of thorns adhering to her breasts clinging across her taut ribcage, burrowing into her backside, her glazed eyes glance down toward the agony of the penetrating tightening vines, her chest uncontrollably heaving as mucus drools from her nostril.  The swollen mounds rising and lowering with each measured breath, the painful thorns borrowing into her flesh ever deeper with each twist, she frantically shakes her head back and forth, watches aguishly as the Nun stretches, aligns yet another long strand from the basket.

“Oooomph!... Gaaaaaaaadddddd!”  Inaudibly pleading through the stuffed rag, her shimmering tit flesh bulging in and out through the prickling strands, the trio of thorn filled branches encircles her quivering naked body while she tries to hold her breath, not to inhale while frantically watching the Nun unsympathetically manipulating the vines, twisting the strands firmer, tighter.

Glancing up, glaring into Jodi’s tear filled eyes, the Nun’s own dark eyes cold, piercing as she cups the thorn bound breasts, she slowly traces her fingernails along the binding strands, presses a jagged tip of each barb inward, making sure each prickling point penetrates the trembling flesh.  Sensing the responding reflexive tremors through her roving fingertips, listening to the constant sobbing grunts, the unintelligible pleadings, she gives off just a hint of a smile as she hears a louder grunt, watches Jodi’s chest slowly, painfully expanding as she finally takes a partial breath, the vine taut, digging deeper into her punctured flesh.  Nodding toward the novice, the Nun glances down toward the basket’s remaining contents, slips a probing index finger between the puffy folds of Jodi’s labium.

Feeling her vagina probed, the Nun’s finger flicking between the spreading folds, Jodi blankly stares down through her swollen eyes as she feels her clit pressed, stretched, tweaked.  Reflexively lurching as her clit’s tugged, the contortions causing the barbs to burrow ever deeper into her breast flesh, she can only groan through the stifling gag as the ropes creak from her unnaturally extended extremities.

Sensing fingernails tweaking, parting the puffy folds of her labium, unable to see down past her arched torso as both sets of hands manipulate, pry between her spread thighs, she feels the barbs embedding across her hips as they’re looped around the bottoms of her buttocks, pressed inward across her labium, digging into the tender flesh.  The pain harsh, crisp, yet not as painful as her aching breasts compressing with each heaving breathe, she realizes her vagina’s being stretched wider, the parting slit exposing her clit separating by the thorns burrowing between both legs, clamping her labia lips to her inner thighs.

Grunting, twisting her head back across the rack, feeling the Nun’s fingers pressing the thorns around both thighs, too weak to struggle, her rolling eyes glare toward the dark ceiling as she clenches her fists.  Barely coherent, the pain pulsing with each shortened breath; she closes her eyes, tightly squints as she feels her clit again manipulated, tugged outward between pinching, firm fingernails.  Feeling other hands looping another barbed strand around the small of her back, across her rippling bellybutton, twisting, looping the clinging vine down between her legs, up through her butt cheeks, she again holds her breath as she feels a barb pressed against the nub of her clit as it’s released.

“Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!”  A scream through the muffling gag as a thorn’s forced into the quivering surface of the unprotected nub; her head pounding back against the harsh wooden slats, her body again uncontrollably vibrates across the front of the rack, a spurt of urine squirting between her flexing legs, splashing against the stone floor, dripping into the drain beneath the apparatus.

The Nun, her protégé with the empty basket in hand step back, circles around the rack.  Again the creaking of iron hinges, again the light momentarily reflecting off the dark walls, the door swinging shut, the only sounds remaining the creaking of the ropes and her own muffled moans.  The torches flickering, the shadows wavering across the stone walls, head slumped forward, she barely has enough strength left to glance down toward the agonizing woven strands replacing her tattered undergarments, the barbed thorns grinding into her naked flesh as she mercifully loses consciousness.

End Part One