by Powerone
Lick it clean. Faith told herself. The wet dildo went into her mouth, the foul leather taste mixed with her own juices as her tongue washed it down. What would it be like if it had a man’s cum on it, thick and salty? She finally took it out and let the whip fall to the floor. She could barely stand, her thighs were wet from her orgasm, but she felt satisfied. She picked up her clothes and started to leave when she saw it. It was next to the couch on the floor. There was a small wet spot. She looked up to see if there was a leak or a hole in the ceiling. There wasn’t. Was the spot there before and I didn’t notice it? Could it have been Michael? There was one way to know for sure, but she couldn’t get enough nerve to do that. She could kneel down and lick up the spot, but that sounded too extreme and disgusting. It would be as though she was just a slave for him and licked up his spilled juices. She refused and left the room after she blew out the candles. As she started up the stairs, she noticed it was warmer in the house again.
Chapter 6
The Hunt for the Secret Rooms
She awoke the next morning and expected to be satisfied from last night’s masturbation, but it was only worse. It was as though she’d learned the pleasure she could have and wanted more, much more. She got out of bed quickly, not wanting to waste her time masturbating in bed; she wanted to find Michael or one of his special rooms. The thought of being bound and taken in any manner that her captor wanted excited her beyond reason. She took a shower, rubbed her nipples a little too long, and stroked her pussy until she was wet, and it wasn’t the water from the shower that made her that way. By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was hornier than when she woke up. That was good; maybe Michael would be able to find her again. He could find her from the scent of her heated body. She was positive that he masturbated as he watched her and hoped that he’d want her today.
She put on a sundress, even though it would be a little chilly. She didn’t want to be overdressed should she find one of the rooms. She had every intention of trying out whatever she found, most likely while she was naked. She walked down the first-floor corridor to the large double doors. It had been closed for five years or more. She used the rusty key to get the lock to open finally. She turned the tarnished handle, and the door began to open, squeaking noisily as she opened it all the way. The hallway was littered with debris, dust and she was afraid of what else. Faith wished she had worn something else on her feet instead of heels, but she tried to look alluring for Michael. She did bring a bag of cleaning supplies, just in case. She wanted to try out what she found, but she’d prefer that they were clean and sanitary if they would go inside her.
She spent the next two hours going through filthy rooms–windows busted and the floors littered with leaves; some rooms smelled, the walls covered with black mold where the moisture had seeped into the room. She grew disappointed until she opened up the next room. It wasn’t a bedroom, more of an office or library. One wall was covered with fine wood bookshelves, still filled with books, but they had long lost their luster and newness. It wasn’t as dirty as the other rooms, as if it had been cleaned over the years, just not lately, the desk covered with a fine sheen of dust. Faith could smell cigar smoke as if men were in it last night. She could imagine them sitting around smoking their cigars. Would they have one of their girls in this room? This was the men’s room. If Faith was going to have a secret room, it would have been connected to it so no one else would find it. She began to scrutinize the walls more, especially the bookcases.
She thought she saw something on one of the bookcases. She moved closer, but it disappeared. She moved back to the door to close it until the room was sheltered in darkness, the heavy drapes held back the sun. She looked over at the bookcase and something appeared again. Light came from a crack between the third and fourth bookcases in the corner of the room. She stumbled across the darkened room to the bookcase. There was no doubt about it; there was something behind the bookcase. There was no way she was going to move it, or anyone would be able to. There had to be some device that opened it. She pushed the drape open enough so that light shone back in the room and she could see what she was doing. She had always seen on television that they pulled a book out on the bookcase and it opened a secret passage, but the shelves were filled with so many books. She’d have to spend hours doing it and still not be sure she’d find it. Use your head, Faith.
She began to scan the titles on the shelf that was the most convenient to pick from. There were business books on management practices, financial statements, nothing that perked her interest. She moved up to the next shelf, higher up so she had to stretch to read some of them. Of course, Michael must have been taller. This was his shelf. There was Abnormal Sexual Psychology, Freud, Marquis De Sade, Pain and Passion, the Exploration of S&M. She stopped and grabbed the spine of the last book on S&M and drew it out. The top of the book moved, but the bottom didn’t slide out but moved at an angle. There was a loud clang behind the bookshelf, and then, it began to move. Faith released the book, but the bookcase continued to open. It creaked, squeaked and pushed the accumulation of junk on the floor in front of it like a shovel. Faith’s heart had stopped beating in excitement. She only hoped that it was half as good as she wanted it to be. She had forgotten the camera, but there would be time for that later.
It took minutes before it was fully open and Faith could stare into the darkened room. How could it be so dark, yet I saw a light shine from the bookcase? She took the flashlight from the bag and shined it inside. It didn’t seem to have any windows in it; the flashlight illuminated a targeted beam. Then, she saw it, a candle sat on the table. She struck a match and lit the candle, Faith was surprised that it became so bright. Faith stared wide-eyed in disbelief. It looked like the room came from a medieval time. She couldn’t even fully describe it, but it resembled some type of pillory device, yet there was more to it than that.
It was made of roughhewn wood, raw and unfinished, black iron ringed the pieces of wood to hold it together, for she couldn’t see any nails or screws. Her hand reached out and touched it, surprised it was so solid. She pulled her finger back when a splinter stabbed her. “Damn!” It looked old, real old, in spite of the condition of it. The wood was stained, Faith fearful of what the stains were from. She found some more candles and lit them until the room was clouded in a mist of dancing light that made it seem more ominous.
Her pussy got wet as her eyes began to explore the strange contraption. It was a large rectangular shape, about five feet wide, parts of it extended out from the frame. Bolted to the floor was a long channel that went the entire five-foot width and then some before it stopped. It was almost like a train track but with only a single metal track. In the center were two wooden blocks, thick and heavy. There was no denying what their use was. Each had a center hole drilled into them, lined with some type of rubber. She reached down to run her hand over one of them. They were for legs, a woman’s legs by the small size of the hole. Faith moved one of them to the right, surprised that it slid so easily on the metal track. She moved it a couple of feet before she stopped. She moved it back; nothing stopped it from doing it. She tried again and brought it back. She foolishly thought it was safe.
She stood back up to inspect the pillory portion of the contraption. It was high up, one large hole and two smaller holes situated on each side of the thick wooden beam. The holes were lined with more rubber. At least the person that made it considered the comfort of the captive. The rubber would keep the wood from chafing the delicate flesh of a woman. She lifted the top crosspiece to slide it up. It stopped when it got about a foot up, and she found a notch in the frame that kept it in the open position. She pushed it back down then up again, surprised at how easily it worked after all these years. It was as if it were used yesterday.
About halfway up the device, waist high, was a wooden beam that ran the width. The leg channel was on the back of the device, the pillory on the front half, about two feet from each other. Anyone in the pillory would be forced to
bend over, the center wooden beam just the right height to catch a woman just above her hips. Faith should’ve explored it more, but her pussy was drenched. She never realized the most important parts that she missed in her excitement. She hoped that Michael could smell her arousal.
She always did foolish things, and it came out okay. That was part of what made her stories so popular. Most women would never take the chances she did, and this was one of them. She moved back to the table to kick off her shoes. She looked around the floor, making sure that it was clear of debris, but it was as though the room was locked from the outside world, no windows or door to allow in the unwelcome. She was really going to do it, glad she wore the sundress. She pulled the zipper down the side until the dress pulled from her body. Her panties were next to go. She took them off, shamed by the wet spot on them. She stood in the room naked as she stared at the device next to her. She filled her lungs with air as she took deep breaths and tried to control her fast-beating heart. She was going to do it as she boldly moved to the device. She would be careful, testing it before she committed to it. Or should the word be submitted. She slipped one of her feet into a hole of the wooden block on the track. She pushed her foot until it slipped in, feeling the rubber around her ankle almost as if she was bound. She pulled her foot back up, tugging it out until it popped free. There was nothing too confining about that. She could easily escape anytime she wanted.
Faith put her foot back into the hole; this time, she slid it in easier. She pushed her leg to the side and grabbed the low beam as her leg began to slide so easily in the wooden block. She stopped when her leg went a foot or two. Her legs spread so easily as if she had no control over them. She could feel her juices freely flow from her pussy. What would it be like if both legs were in the blocks and I was forced to spread them over five feet wide? She could hardly imagine what a woman would feel like if forced into the device and spread like that, not knowing what they would do to her, but knowing that her pussy was open and vulnerable. She closed her legs to pull the one leg out and try the other block. It moved in just the same way to spread out but closed just as easily. So far so good.
The next part, she had to lean forward, and she felt the rough wood graze across her hipbones. She pulled the crosspiece all the way up until it snapped into the groove. She leaned forward to test one wrist first. She pulled the crosspiece down and felt the hinged top come down on her single wrist and trap it. She felt a moment of panic when the rubber sealed around her wrist, unable to pull it out. She pushed up with her arm; the crosspiece rose up slowly until she could pull her hand out and swung the crosspiece up high until it found the groove. That wasn’t so bad. She did the same with the other wrist, testing it.
It was time for the hard part. She had to put her head in the pillory. She wouldn’t put her wrists in the crosspiece, only her head. If her head got stuck, her hands were free, and she could pull the crosspiece up with a little difficulty, but it wouldn’t be impossible. She leaned forward farther this time and felt her naked breasts sway erotically beneath her. She suddenly realized how vulnerable a woman’s breasts would be when confined in the pillory. She loved having her nipples played with, more excited if someone did it while she was bound. She gulped loudly when her neck hit the bottom of the pillory. She reached up with one arm and felt the strain in her back from the awkward position, but she finally found the other end of the crosspiece. She pulled it down too fast, and panic hit her when the crosspiece fell too fast in her haste. It was as though she was chocked by it. She struggled for a second then finally calmed herself. It was tight around her neck, almost constraining her, but after a few minutes, she began to breathe normally. She felt so vulnerable, naked and bound in the device, even though her legs were together and free of the wooden blocks and her arms dangled unrestrained beneath her.
She suddenly remembered to see if she could get out of the crosspiece. She pushed up with her head first and found the crosspiece was a little too heavy. She brought her hand up to push it up, and once the crosspiece started to rise, it almost opened by itself. Just to be sure, she did it again; this time, she stayed longer when the crosspiece held her neck in place. It worked so well. She stood back up. She looked around the room and hoped to see a vision of Michael, but there was only the flicker of the candles. She looked at her watch, over an hour had passed since she found the room, yet she wasn’t hungry, just horny.
It was all or nothing. She moved to the back of the device to slip one foot into a block then the other. She moved one block to the right and back then did the same with the other. Everything worked as planned. Now, it was time for the hard part. She leaned forward until she was bent over the wooden beam in the center. She was surprised that her feet didn’t hurt; the rubber around the edges seemed to protect them. She stretched her naked body out until her neck could fit into the groove. Then, her right arm went into the groove, using her left arm to pull the crosspiece down. The weight of it did all the work; she took the last leap of faith and put her other hand into the groove. The crosspiece came down to trap her. There was a moment of panic, but when she pushed up with her wrists and neck, the crosspiece began to rise, albeit slowly. It was too much work, so Faith let it fall back down to trap her again. But she felt good that she could get out anytime she wanted to.
She felt such sexual excitement in her body. Here she was naked, bent over and bound in a medieval torture device, and she was so hot, she was sure she could cum when she squeezed her pussy muscles. If only Michael would come along and take advantage of her helplessness. Did he sense that I wasn’t really trapped in the device like his other captives? She wished she had something to rub her pussy on. She began to spread her legs, this time both of them, slowly as she felt her thighs part and her pussy lips begin to open. She looked forward, seeing a mirror tilted against the wall on the other side, the reflection of her shone back. It looked so obscene, especially as she spread her legs, yet she felt this excitement at being bound naked.
“Clunk!”
Her body froze. Terror hit her body, and her skin began to sweat. She felt something, the wooden blocks tightened around her ankles. She felt a shudder through the crossbeam. She tried to move her wrists, but she couldn’t. They were trapped. She tried to lift her head up, useless, not even a millimeter. Her legs were next. She tried to close them, but they were stopped on something. Her legs were spread about a foot apart, not uncomfortable but still unwillingly.
“HEEELLLPPP!” She knew it wouldn’t do any good, but it did make her feel better for a second. Only a second though. She was trapped. Not only trapped, but naked and horny. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. There were no signs of what happened or how to fix it. She tried her arms and neck again, but it was futile. Then, she tried her feet. She pulled inward, stopped as though the blocks were at the end of the track, yet there was still a good foot between them. Then, she pushed out, surprised when both blocks began to move. A moment of elation ran through her body, but it was quashed when she tried to close them again. They moved inward, but they wouldn’t completely close and wouldn’t release her legs. It was as though the device wanted her to open and close her legs like a wanton whore.
An even more surprising thing reflected from the mirror. Under the device was something that rose from the floor. She didn’t notice it before, though it would have been important. It was just a bump, but a big bump. Why now? She only had one theory, and she tried it immediately. She stared into the mirror with rapt attention as she pushed out with her legs until they spread wider then shut them as much as she could, as quick as she could. The bump rose up; this time, she could fathom what it was. There was no doubt that it was a dildo, a rather large and thick dildo. The mushroom head was black, at least it was smooth, but an inch of it was showing, Faith wasn’t sure how much wasn’t revealed. Every time she spread her legs, her pussy got wetter, in spite of closing them once again. Will the dildo rise up and fuck me? She didn’t know whether she should be happy or scared, t
hough she headed toward happy or, at least, excited. No dildo ever scared her before.
Is this one of Michael’s cruel devices? How many women had fucked themselves to death while bound? Did Michael get his enjoyment as he watched them or would he participate, more than enough holes available in the victim to be penetrated, the victims unable to stop him from any perverse acts that he wanted to commit? It dawned on her suddenly; she was one of those victims. It wasn’t a bad way to go, forced orgasms. She could see her epitaph, “Faith died an untimely death, but she died with a smile on her face, a dildo inside her and dried cum on her thighs.” At least it made her laugh.
Faith wondered how high and how deep the dildo would go. She wasn’t going anywhere in the position she was in now, so she might as well find out what happened when she embraced the evil device. She looked at the mirror as she began to spread her legs out, seeing how obscene it looked as her pussy opened up to reveal her shameful wetness. Her legs went another six inches and then closed again, but Faith’s eyes were on the dildo as it rose up from the floor. Another inch of the thick head rose up; Faith worried, the girth of the head still grew. If it went inside her, it would stretch her; stretch her as much as the being that fucked her for the first time when she was a girl. She continued to spread her legs and close them and found her pussy grew wetter each time as his image shot back from the mirror to excite her. The dildo rose up higher, her legs spread at least two feet now, and the mushroom head of the dildo now revealed its size. It was at least three inches in diameter and two inches tall before the flared ridge flowered open. That added another half inch to the width. She was at least grateful that her pussy was soaking wet.