CHAPTER 3

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but fear and shock paralyzed me. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as his sneer deepened. He seemed to take pleasure in my silence, a twisted satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

"Answer me,wife," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Do you understand now?"

I swallowed hard, the taste of blood still fresh on my tongue. Slowly, I nodded, knowing it was the response he wanted. Defiance would only bring more pain, and I couldn't afford that right now. Not when every part of me ached with the need to survive.

Suddenly, a noise like a gunshot rang out from outside, startling us both. His grip loosened slightly as his attention was momentarily diverted. Seizing the opportunity, I pulled away and stumbled towards the door. My heart pounded as I fumbled with the handle, desperation fueling my every movement.

"Get back here!" he bellowed, but I was already out, sprinting down the dimly hallway. My vision blurred with tears; I had no idea where the exit was, but I didn't stop or look back. All I could think about was escape, finding safety, and surviving this terror.

I ran, my feet pounding against the cold, hard floor of the hallway. My breath came in ragged gasps, tears blurring my vision. The sound of my own heartbeat echoed in my ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear and desperation.

His hand shot out, gripping my arm with a vice-like strength that sent a jolt of pain up my shoulder. I gasped, the sound caught between a whimper and a scream. He yanked me back, pulling me against his chest. His breath was hot and harsh against my ear as he snarled.

"Was the slap not enough to remind you?" His voice was thick with menace, each word dripping with anger.

"Let me go!" I screamed, struggling against his hold. "I'm not your wife!"

He ignored my pleas, hoisting me over his shoulder effortlessly. I pounded my fists against his back, kicking and writhing, but his grip was unyielding. He carried me back into the room, but instead of stopping, he turned sharply and pushed open a hidden door. A dimly lit hallway stretched out before us, flanked by flickering lamps casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, my voice trembling with fear.

He growled, a low, threatening sound. "It looks like you knocked your head when you ran. You're still acting stubborn. But no worries, wife, I'll knock your head back to your reality."

We reached the end of the hallway, and he opened another door. He flicked on a switch, and red lights bathed the room in an ominous glow. My eyes widened in fear and apprehension as I took in my surroundings.

The room was a nightmarish gallery of bondage and discipline, submission, and masochism—a true BDSM dungeon. As my eyes adjusted to the eerie red light, I took in the full extent of what surrounded me. Every wall, every corner, was adorned with implements of control and pain.

Directly across from the bed, a large wooden St. Andrew's cross stood ominously, its surface gleaming in the dim light. Chains and leather straps dangled from their arms, ready to secure anyone who was forced against it. To the right of the cross, a spanking bench sat, its padded surface inviting in the most sinister way. Various floggers, paddles, and canes hung on the wall nearby, each one looking more painful than the last.

A tall, steel frame occupied another corner of the room, equipped with cuffs and spreader bars designed to hold someone in a vulnerable, spread-eagle position. Next to it, a bondage chair with numerous straps and buckles seemed designed for prolonged, uncomfortable restraint.

Against another wall, there was a rack of assorted whips from short, stingy crops to long, multi-tailed cat-o'-nine-tails. Hanging beside them were ropes of different lengths and thicknesses, ready for intricate shibari work or simple, restrictive binds.

A table covered in an array of smaller devices drew my attention next. There were ball gags, bit gags, and ring gags, each one meant to silence any screams. Clamps of various sizes and designs were laid out, some connected by delicate chains. Vibrators and dildos in a variety of shapes and sizes, some with straps for forced use, added to the collection. Electro-stimulation devices sat ominously alongside them, wires and pads ready to deliver controlled shocks.

In another corner, a suspension rig with a winch system hung from the ceiling, its ropes ready to hoist someone off the ground. Leather hoods and masks, some with built-in blindfolds and gags, were neatly arranged on shelves next to it. A medical examination table with stirrups was positioned nearby, alongside a trolley with speculums, forceps, and other instruments more commonly seen in a doctor's office than a bedroom.

Finally, the bed itself was a testament to the perverse nature of the room. Wide and sturdy, with heavy poles at each corner, it was equipped with cuffs and chains, ready to hold someone in place. The mattress was covered in dark, slick material, easy to clean and resistant to stains.

Fear gripped my heart as I realised that this room was not just a collection of tools—it was a manifestation of his darkest desires, a place where control and submission were the only rules. My mind raced, searching for any possible escape from this chamber of horrors.

He slumped me onto the bed with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. I landed hard against the slick surface, the cold metal poles digging into my back. Gasping for air, I scrambledbackwardsd, my hands slipping on the smooth material beneath me.

Without saying another word, he towered over me, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the room. His eyes bore into mine, dark and intense, filled with a mixture of rage and something far more sinister. I knew then, with a sinking dread, that escape was no longer an option.

I tried to push myself further away, but my back hit the headboard, trapping me against the bed. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing through the room like a drum of impending doom. The red light cast eerie shadows across his face, emphasising the cruel twist of his lips.

"You thought you could run from me?" he sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "You thought you could defy me and get away with it?"

I tried to scramble away, but his hands were too quick. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head, his grip ironclad. I thrashed beneath him, but it was no use; he was much stronger than me, and his weight kept me firmly in place.

"You're not going anywhere," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. I could feel his hot breath on my face, smell the mix of swea, and something darker, more sinister. Panic surged through me, and I kicked my legs, trying to dislodge him.

He responded by pressing his body down harder, making it nearly impossible for me to move. "Struggle all you want," he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "It only makes this more fun for me."

My eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for something, anything, that could help me. But all I saw were instruments of pain and control, reminders of how hopeless my situation was. Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Let me go. I'm not your wife."

He laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. "You still don't get it, do you?" he said, leaning in closer.

With one hand still holding my wrists, he used the other to reach for a set of cuffs attached to the bedposts. My heart pounded as he snapped the first cuff around my wrist, then the other, securing me in place. I pulled against the restraints, but they were too tight, too strong.

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Don't do this."

His only response was a dark chuckle as he fastened the collar around my neck, the leather cool and unyielding against my skin. He lifted the ball gag, and despite my attempts to turn away, he forced it into my mouth, securing it tightly behind my head. My screams were reduced to muffled whimpers, my pleas for mercy swallowed by the gag.

"That's better," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, let's begin, wife."