Captive in Dark Leather
I always thought you were supposed to dream when you sleep. As far back as I can recall I’ve always woken up on the tail end of a dream. But all there is here is black. No dreams, just pure dark oblivion.
I’m coming out of something. I’m waking up from some dreamless sleep. How is this possible? Oh, well, just open my eyes and…
Wait, it’s still black! What’s happening? I know my eyes are open. Is this still a dream? Maybe it’s just the room that’s dark. But I don’t remember my room ever being this dark. I’ll just get up and turn the light on to see…
I can’t get up! I can’t move! I’m bound, or restrained and it’s all black and…I can’t help it. I panic. I move as much as I can. I thrash around and try to call for help, but I can’t talk, something’s in my mouth. I thrash and thrash and…
Thwack!
Something hard strikes me on the behind. It hurts. I hear some distant mumbling. Sounds like I’m being told not to do something. Must get their attention. I thrash and make gurgling noises, and…
Thwack!
Ouch! That hurt even more. I’m starting to cry now. Then I hear the voice clearer now, as if it’s right beside me, but still far away.
“Be still. Be silent. That was nothing. The next one will really hurt.”
I freeze, in fear. If that was his intention, it sure worked. But I’m still whimpering, and now I’m hyperventilating. I’m choking on something and can’t breathe through my mouth. I’m starting to get cold now. It could be shock. I can’t let this happen. Concentrate, concentrate, just on my breathing…just on my breathing. Got to slow it down.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
Ok, my breathing’s closer to normal now. I’ve got the crying under control. Time to take stock. What can I figure out like this? I’m naked, that’s the first thing I know for sure. Totally naked. I’m on my knees, and can feel the hardwood floor on my skin. I’m bent over my knees completely, so that my breasts and the side of my face rests on the floor. My wrists are tightly bound behind me. My arms just above the elbows are restrained as well. I can’t move them at all. It feels like it could be a belt, or leather strap. Even my thumbs are locked together, by some sort of metal cuffs. I try to move my feet, but a small chain between my ankles restricts them. It can’t be more than a few inches.
My face, the blackness now….I think I’m starting to figure it out. There’s a hood over my head. It feels really tight. Might even be skintight. It’s not fabric. It feels rougher than that, like leather or suede. And my mouth. There is something enormous filling my mouth. It almost feels like a cock, or…like a dildo, that’s it. I can’t talk, or even move my tongue around it. Is it plastic? It feels sort of like plastic, but softer. There are no ear or eye holes in this hood. Just nose holes, otherwise I wouldn’t even be able to breathe. But aside from that, my head and face are sealed in this thing. It goes down around my neck. It must be locked around it. The tears and the snot from my nose are making this even more uncomfortable. Nothing I can do about it now.
Maybe whoever struck me is gone now, or at least not paying attention, now that I’m quiet. As slowly and quietly as I can, I try to rise up, but I only get maybe six inches. There’s a chain attached to my neck. It goes to a bolt-hole on the floor. I can feel it as I nudge against it.
I am stuck in this horribly uncomfortable position, and that’s when my real predicament becomes all too clear.
The last thing I remember was riding in the shuttle after landing in the Bahamas. I must have been drugged in the shuttle, which means something happened to my husband too. Was he kidnapped and taken here as well? Or left behind so that someone would be there to pay my ransom? I don’t even want to think of the other alternatives.
The floor lurches. Then it lurches again. I’ve got it. I’m on a ship. Oh God, I’m out to sea? How could this possibly get any worse?
I feel footsteps on the floor. Amazing how a hardwood floor and lack of most of your senses sharpen whatever’s left. Boots, with heels. Then I hear talking. I can’t make out the words. This damn hood muffles things too much. But the voice sounds calm, unhurried, but cold, authoritative. I hear some more talking, then a moment of silence, and then…
Screaming! Someone is screaming. It sounds like a woman. There’s another woman being held down here like this? Her screams don’t last long. I think I hear something striking flesh. I can feel the vibration from her reaction through the floor. Then her screams are suddenly muffled. They must be shoving a dildo gag like this one in her mouth. Then other indistinct sounds. More footsteps. Heavier, and another sound. Maybe she’s being dragged across the floor?
More sounds. God, they’re so muffled. As if she’s being strapped to something in front of me, and then…
Thwack!
Oh my god, I think she’s just been whipped. She screams in pain, but it’s muffled by the gag now. She’s whipped again. Then it starts in earnest. Someone just keeps whipping her, in a steady even rhythm. The poor thing cries out with every strike. Oh god, not me. Please, not me too.
I’m remembering now: my husband and I were going to a fetish-BDSM themed resort in Florida. It looked like a fun way to spice up our life. This couldn’t be it, could it? I don’t remember anything like this in the online tour. And it was on the island we landed on. No need for us to be on a ship. Oh God, please let this just be a kinky resort thing.
More footsteps from those boots. They’re coming towards me now. Don’t whimper. Don’t hyperventilate.
The boots stop a few feet from me. I feel them turn through the floorboards. Than the owner of the boots speaks again. It’s a she, and she’s near enough that I can make out the words through the hood now. I listen closely, to every word.
“Your gag is about to be removed. Your instinct will be to scream for help. Do not do that. Be silent and follow commands. I give you only one chance. One wrong sound, or failure to follow my command, and you are punished. It will be as harsh and brutal as I can make it, and last all night. Then in the morning you be hauled back here to demonstrate to me that you can follow commands. After that, your training can begin.”
This woman has a voice like no other I’ve ever heard before. It’s imposing. It’s the sound of someone used to commanding everyone around her, and doling out punishment when those commands aren’t followed. I feel her weight shift through the floorboards. She must be crouching down. Then I hear some other indistinct sounds and…
Screaming! Someone is screaming again. But it’s not the first woman, who is still screaming from her whipping. It’s a second, who is right next to me!
She screams her head off, and sure enough, she’s dragged to the front of the room and now I’m hearing the sounds of two women being flogged. Jesus God.
Those boots again. They’re right in front of my now. I can hear her much better now when she speaks.
“Your gag is about to be removed. You heard what happened to our first two pieces of new property there. They are being punished because they did not follow commands. If you scream, you join them. Don’t worry, we have plenty of room and plenty of whips over there for all of you.”
All of you? Just how many of us are down here?
“This is your one chance. Be silent. Follow commands. It’s better for you if you do. The sooner we start your training, the better.”
I feel her crouch now. My head is lifted off the floor. There must be some sort of ring or handle on the back of this hood for that. I’m lifted the few inches until the chain goes taut, and then held there for a moment. Then the hand lets go of my hood, but I keep my face up, with the chain taut. It must be what she wants. It’s excruciating in this position. Feels like pilates from hell. But I don’t want to risk angering her by putting my head back down. I feel movement on the side of the hood. Something is being unclasped. Then the dildo gag is pulled out of my mouth. Oh my God, what a relief. I drool all over the floor. I can’t help it.
But I don’t scream.
I stay silent, like a good girl. I have to suppress every instinct in me not to panic, but I tamp it all down, just to keep that whip away from me. I hear a boot shuffling and being pushed. It’s underneath me now, I can feel it.
“Lick.”
I lick.