facebook-domain-verification=bu41b9jskbyjl8cp1w9rv6zya8skxo
top of page
Writer's pictureBrantwijn Serrah

The Torture Chamber

A special sneak peek of the my upcoming high-heat, BDSM Fantasy Romance, Enslaved.

Exclusive for Strange Wayfarers!

 

Set’s torture chamber stood like an altar erected to the glory of pain and pleasure. Sadira lit the lamps in sconces along the wall, admiring how the molten light glided over leather cushions and rich, dark wood. A collection of devices both salacious and sadistic: hard, unyielding boards on which she’d been forced to kneel as Set whipped her, testing her endurance and poise; gleaming black padding, smooth as butter and firm as flesh, under her skin as he held her down or bent her over to take his pleasure.

She ran a hand over one, a padded sawhorse to which she’d been bound, wrists locked to the struts in front, body straddling the frame. Like this, she’d been vulnerable to Set’s inspection of her private parts, his intimate examination and stimulation with toys, ropes, crops, until he’d tormented her into a desperate heat and she begged for his own hot flesh. Or he sat her straight up on the device, hogtied so she must arch her back, presenting her breasts for his torment. He’d tease her with feathers and ice, with roaming, twisting fingers and even with his teeth, until she wriggled and groaned, working her naked cleft against the leather beneath her in needful yearning.

Against one wall hung a cross of polished wooden beams, to which she’d been tied, gagged and blindfolded, while he whipped her with floggers of tight, sinewy cord and sometimes mean, studded leather. Other times he’d lash her with strips of silk or soft velvet, lush against her skin, light fur across smooth, yearning flesh. Standing on its own beside the cross, a tall frame of burnished metal, where he hung her by her wrists, for access to both sides of her body at once.

Sadira strode across the room, soothed by the smells of resonant desert oak and clean, oiled hide. She trailed her fingers over the tools of punishment, Set’s collection of whips and crops, crafted imitation phalluses, shackles and gags, tiny jeweled clamps and silken masks. This place had been a place of worship, of carnal exultation. Punishment, reward, training, and most of all, pleasure. He'd tested her to her limits here. When she satisfied him, he'd spoiled her, mind and body, with sexual excess.

댓글


bottom of page