My Door Might be Unlocked Tonight

Three days of filming intense bondage scenes, but I knew he was holding back.

It was my last night and I wanted a taste of what was too dark for the camera.

"I'm passing out early tonight, but let me know if you need anything at all"

He had said that last bit each night prior, but this time I finally sensed the invitation it held.

He did have to be up early so I knew I had to act fast.

We said goodnight and went to our separate rooms.

"Oops my door might be unlocked tonight ????????‍♀️"

I texted, heart already racing, giggling to myself.

"Oh yeah?!"

"Yea looks like it."

"Good thing it's creaky as fuck... improvising is my middle name ????"

I just send him wide eyes, curious and a bit nervous about what I'm getting myself into.

I hear him open a door but I can't tell which one.

"Or you meet me in the dungeon... I'll give you a fifteen minute head start."

Smiling ear to ear, but also trembling, I tiptoe out of my bedroom and make my way through the dark towards the front door. Sandals or combat boots? Definitely the boots. I might need to run.

Is he outside already? Or is he hiding down a dark hall ready to pounce and drag me out to the dungeon himself?

I make it to the door and the deadbolt and chain are still locked. So he definitely didn't go out that way.

I wonder if he's still in the house and if I'll get a chance to hide in the dungeon before he gets there. I always loved a good game of hide and seek.

I slowly open the door and creep out into the warm night air.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I'm peering through the darkness wondering if he's hiding somewhere in the trees or around the corner of the sprawling rural home. I walk out into the open towards the dungeon, heart pounding in my chest, the adrenaline heightening my senses.

I make it to the door and pause, peering into the dark window. I take a deep breath before slowly turning the handle. If he's already in there, I know my breaths are numbered. The fear is delicious.

The second I clear the doorframe a bag is thrown over my head and pulled tight. His looming six foot five frame overpowers me in a fraction of a second, one hand smothering me over the bag and the other wrenching my arms behind me. His hand moves to my throat and I try not to smile as I feel his grip tighten. If I wasn't wet already, I'm definitely soaked now. I have no option but to go where he leads me.

I scream as much as I can get out through his tight grip and fight him as he drags me across the concrete floor. It's cold and still slightly damp from our suspension and dunking scene earlier that day. I scream, moan, pant, and struggle- although not as hard as I can because I'm already very much enjoying this.

I give one good effort to get away, lurching forward, not realizing I'm already in front of the table. I slam my thigh into the edge as he slams my chest down onto the surface. That's going to be a nice bruise for sure.

He effortlessly pins my head to the table with one hand, ripping my shorts off with the other and delivers some heavy smacks. I scream and struggle some more as he then yanks off my shirt and binds my wrists behind me. "Shhhh. You think you can get away from me?"

Before I can think at all he's straddling me, arms held tightly yanked behind me, and suddenly I'm cleave gagged and my legs are tied. He steps away (up to no good I'm sure) but I'm blind and bound up on the table, the cold concrete below me. I know better than to struggle too much now, truly helpless.

He roughly throws my body around on the surface, squeezing, slapping, biting, smothering me and making me hold my breath as he delivers various methods of pain. The electric zapper is fun. The pain typically makes me laugh, but this time the fear has given everything a more sinister edge. He slowly traces it over my body, pausing in places that are terrifying. I let out animalistic moans of pain and defiance.

"My door might be unlocked" he mocks. "I've asked you every night to let me know if you needed anything at all and you wait until the very last night, before I have to be up at 5am to say anything" he says low and menacingly into my ear as he smothers my mouth and nose with one hand.

"Now you're going pay for it".

I hear the sound of the pulley being lowered from the ceiling. I squirm and whine in fear and protest as he raises my ankles and attaches them to the hook. He teases me, probably knowing I'm afraid he's going to suspend and dunk me again. But he doesn't. He simply raise my legs just enough so they are straight above me, further immobilizing me on the table.

He yanks the bag off my head grabbing my chin and making me meet his dark gaze.

I briefly question if I made an error revealing my affinity for breathplay to him. I can hold my breath for a long time, but the fear and adrenaline from struggling brings me to my limit faster than usual. My lungs burn with the contractions of my body fighting for air. He brings out the hitachi, pressing it into my pussy as he takes my breath away.

"Someone is very wet. Did I not satisfy you all weekend?? You're still greedy for more?"

He kneels over me and presses it into me with his hips, hand still over my mouth. "You don't mind if I get a little pleasure too do you? Tell me what you want more, the vibrator or my cock"

"Both" I moan as clearly as I can.

He slaps my breast hard.

"That's not what I asked you, I asked what do you want MORE, the vibrator OR my cock"

"Cock! Your cock!" I groan in panic. I know he won't give it to me, but the denial is half the fun.

His hand moves to my throat once more, squeezing just enough to give me a little head rush. "I so wish you could be choked. I'd have you asleep so fast. It would be too easy"

My eyes roll back at the thought. I too wish that, but alas. I attempt to defiantly meet his gaze. There it is. I see the darkness he warned me about.

"But noooo you get headaches. Are headaches worse than drowning though? Get up."

He yanks me off the table and tells me to walk. My ankles are tied so tightly I can barely get my feet flat on the floor. I start to sink to my knees.

"What are you doing? Are your legs broken? I said walk"

Partly feeling bratty and partly feeling desperate I nod and whimper "mmhmm" through my gag. Hoping that means he'll carry me.

"Your legs aren't fucking broken, get up" he yanks me back to my feet and I continue to hop forward. "Don't you lie to me. I don't like being lied to." He's steering me into the direction of the metal bucket still full of water from earlier. I scream and shake my head. My mind races between knowing I can handle a bit of water and not knowing how far to the edge he's going to take me.

"Now get on your knees" he shoves me down over the bucket.

He grabs a fistful of hair and yanks my head back. He says something but I don't remember. My focus is just on the water in front of me and the motion of my head being suddenly under it. Over and over again, giving me just enough time between dunks to cough and blow the water out of my nose. He mentions something about how he warned me he's far more sadistic than the content he shoots. I'm learning in real time what a true sadist he is. My body is going into fight or flight, I'm trembling and almost feel the urge to cry. My masochist is happy.

After what feels like an eternity, he yanks me back to my feet and makes me hop back to the table. He tosses my wet shivering, whimpering body back onto the table. I slide around easily on the now slick leather surface. He treats me to more pain, heightened now that my skin is wet and cold. Squeezing my hardened nipples and digging his fingers into my flesh until I scream. "You really are a masochist. A good match."

I think he gives me the hitachi again and tells me he wants me to cum for him, but I'm too exhausted and my mind too gone to really focus.

I'm briefly jerked back to reality as I'm being dragged towards the bucket once more. A few more dunks. I'm barely moaning now, lost somewhere in subspace.

"Look at all that water you got on the floor. How are we going to get that back into the bucket?"

Suddenly the bag is back over my head and I'm hoisted over his shoulder, dripping water everywhere. Always hyper risk aware, I briefly think to myself "I really hope he doesn't slip on that wet concrete". An incoherent moan like a wounded animal is all I can manage.

"Too bad we'll have to leave your clothes here." He carries my wet naked body back out into the night and into the house. I have a glimmer of hope my next destination will be a bed. He sits me down and tells me not to move. The surface is cold and slick. It's the edge of the bathtub. He turns on the faucet. I let out a scared, pleading moan, but I'm still blind and tied and know I can't safely move myself. I know what's coming.

He taunts me as he lowers me into the tub. "I hope you don't get that bag too wet"

Still bound, I use all my might to hold my head above water. He pushes me in and out from under the faucet. I time my breathes with the water splashing my face and exhale with enough force to separate the fabric from my airways so I can breathe again. Will he push me fully under? The fear starts to become real.

He gets in the tub with me. His body pressing into mine in that tight space is both menacing and comforting. He splashes more water on my face and pulls the bag snug against my nose and mouth, toying with me a bit more. Finally he removes it and pulls me over onto his chest. I sink into him, breath heavy, completely spent.

He strokes my hair. "You good?"

"Mmhmm" I sigh and smile, content.