{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"44fc5df4-0a1d-41d2-9a07-91a19a158c59","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2023-09-23T12:03:52.513Z","title":"The Ancient Dungeon","slug":"the-ancient-dungeon","shortId":"va84wO4c","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A woman visits a secret, underground dungeon she has discovered in the ruins of a castle, so that she may be tortured beyond her wildest nightmares. There is a supernatural element to this little tale.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"e7dd203c-e7c0-4056-9ba8-6f24ca472c56","title":null,"summary":"\nThe Ancient Dungeon\n\n\nI looked around the ruins of\nthe castle. Nobody else was about. Good. I didn’","wordCount":2202,"readTime":11,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

\nThe Ancient Dungeon

\n\n

\nI looked around the ruins of\nthe castle. Nobody else was about. Good. I didn’t want anybody else\nto know about what I had discovered. It was a secret only for me.

\n I was wearing jeans and\nsensible boots. No high heels for a trip to a ruined castle. My\ndouble D breasts were swinging free, bra-less, in a black tee shirt,\nwith a black leather jacket over the tee shirt. But it meant that\nthere would be fewer clothes to take off, a little later. \n

\n I walked to the secret. It\nlooked just like a large flagstone in the floor of a room now lacking\na ceiling, and with walls only three-quarters tall. You could stand\non the flagstone and nothing occurred. But I had discovered how to\nslide this flagstone too the side. As I did.

\n Ancient stone steps led\ndown into the darkness. For all that I knew I was the only person to\nhave walked down the steps in hundreds of years, ever since the\ncastle had been reduced to a ruin during the English Civil War. I\ntook out a powerful flashlight and turned it on. The beam lit up the\nstone steps. I descended down into the darkness.

\n The place was very damp,\nand I could hear water dripping in the darkness. But it seemed to be\nstructurally safe. If it had been going to collapse it would have\ndone so hundreds of years ago.

\n The stone steps went down a\nlong way. I was soon deep underground. But the air was still good, or\nat least good enough to breathe without difficulty. The stone steps\neventually ended in a passage. I walked along the passage to an\nironbound oak door, still in one piece. The door was open, and beyond\nI could see the remains of an ancient dungeon, all of the torture\ndevices lying in ruins.

\n I took off my backpack, and\nleant it against the wall outside of the dungeon. I took off my\nsensible boots, and my socks, and put them in the backpack. The stone\nflagstones of the passage were cold beneath my feet.

\n I took off the black\nleather jacket and stuffed it in the backpack. My nipples were\nalready erect with the cold. Or was it with anticipation of what was\nto come? I didn’t know. \n

\n I took off the black tee\nshirt, and put it in the backpack. My heart was beating a little\nfaster. \n

\n I slid down my tight jeans\nand stuffed them in the backpack. I wasn’t wearing any panties. I\nwas now entirely naked, just outside an underground dungeon. Nobody\nknew that I was here.

\n I turned off the\nflashlight, and rested it on top of the clothes in my backpack, where\nI would be able to easily find it later. I was now in utter darkness.

\n I felt for the oaken door,\nfinding a large, rusted iron ring on the inside. I stepped into the\ndungeon. With some difficulty I pulled the door closed. It closed\nwith a clang. Despite there being nobody inside this castle, I heard\nbars being put on the door through which I had just come. I was here\nfor the duration.

\n Almost as soon as the door\nhad been barred, light came on in this dungeon. Burning torches, set\nin sconces on the wall, lit up this place of torture, their light\nflickering. The place had come to life. \n

\n The items of torture were\nno longer broken ruins on the stone floor. They now looked just as\nthey had looked the day that they had been created. I saw the\npowerful wooden rack, on which I had already been broken in the past.\nI recalled the slow torture as my arms had been pulled out of their\nsockets, until the sinews had all been torn. No mercy had been shown\nthat first time, and I had thought that I had been going to die. But\nI had woken up alive, and here I was, back again, and not my first\nreturn to this hidden, mystic place.

\n I gazed at the two holes of\nthe breast guillotine, where my breasts had been held/ I had been\nunable to draw them through the holes. I had begged for mercy, but\nnot one whit of mercy had been shown. The gleaming blade had been\nreleased, its great weight easily parting my double D tits from my\nbody. Yet there they were, still attached to me.

\n My gaze then alighted on\nthe whipping frame, to which I had been attached on my last visit to\nthis remarkable place. I had been whipped on my back, and arse, until\nI had thought that I would die. But the torture had been too skilled\nfor that. I had only died after her had whipped my front. My breasts\nhad been ripped to shreds, the blood running in rivulets from them.\nAnd I had succumbed.

\n There was a new piece of\nequipment. Each time I came down here there was something new,\nanother toy of torture with which to play. This time there was a\nwooden frame which would hold my limbs spread, allowing full access\nto all the secret areas of my body. Next to the wooden frame there\nwas an iron brazier. The coals were glowing red, and I could see the\nhandles of various devices thrust into those glowing coals. So, this\ntime it would be death by branding iron. I was terrified of the pain\nto come, so terrified that my clit stood out in arousal. I would not\nbe able to bear the pain. But that was the point.

\n Standing next to the\nbrazier was the torturer. He stood a full six and a half feet tall,\nand his muscles had muscles. He wore black leather boots, and black\nleather breeches, of a sort which possessed a hole at the front. His\nbig, hairy, round balls, and his massive cock had been pulled out\nthrough the hole. His cock was erect, and was at least ten inches\nlong. It looked as thick as my wrist. I knew that, during the\ntorture, he would rape my holes with that cock, for he had done so on\neach of my other visits before. And it would be a true rape, and not\nsome enjoyable coupling. Well, it would be enjoyable for him.

\n His chest was bare, and was\ncovered with sweat, no doubt from the heat of the brazier near which\nhe stood. It glistened in the torchlight. \n

\n On his head he wore a full\nleather mask, so that I could not see his features, only his eyes\nglittering.

\n The torturer gestured\ntowards the wooden frame. He always gestured. He never spoke. Perhaps\nthat would have destroyed the spell. I walked over to the frame. I\nstood on tiptoe so that he could tie my wrists, my arms spread wide.\nHe tied my wrists so securely that I could feel the blood being cut\noff from my hands. But what did it matter if my hands died if I was\ngoing to be tortured to death?

\n He tied my ankles next, to\nthe corners of the frame, spreading my legs painfully wide. I was now\nutterly defenceless. I couldn’t have escaped from this bondage in a\nmillion years. Nor would I want to. \n

\n There was no slow preamble\nto this torture, no slapping me about or light whipping. It was on\nwith the main event. My torturer walked over to the brazier and\npulled something out. I could see a large, glowing skewer, which he\nheld by a small, wooden handle.

\n “No, please.” I begged.\nI always begged, although it made no difference. Begging was part of\nthis game, and there was fear that I would not be able to withstand\nthe pain. The torturer ignored my pleas. He walked over to stand in\nfront of me. I could feel the heat radiating off this cruel skewer,\nand it had not even touched my flawless skin as yet. \n

\n By now I was sweating as\nwell, with my proximity to the brazier. The torturer held the skewer\nto my left breast, letting the very end touch my skin. I screamed in\nagony as I heard my skin sizzle. Then, slowly, as slowly as he could,\nhe began forcing the skewer through my breast. I screamed again, as\nthe metal cooked the inside of my breast, a passage of utter agony\nabout which I could do absolutely nothing.

\n I saw the skin deform on\nthe other side of my breast from where the skewer had entered. Then\nthe still glowing end of the skewer forced the skin open. My breast\nwas now transfixed by the glowing metal.

\n My silent torturer returned\nto the brazier. He removed a second skewer. No mercy. He forced it\nthrough my other breast. The pain was no less than the first one. I\nwas begging him over and over. But not one jot of mercy was shown. \n

\n Over and over my torturer\nforced skewers into my breasts, until I knew that my large breasts\nhad been totally ruined, by the thirty or so metal skewers\ntransfixing them. Whenever I fainted from the pain he slapped me back\nto consciousness, not wanting me to miss one iota of this torment. \n

\n He only stopped when there\nwas no more room for red hot skewers inside my ruined breasts. My\ntorturer stood in front of me, and inserted the tip of his massive\ncock between my lower lips. I suspected that he would also transfix\nthem with glowing metal, and that was why he was fucking me now. \n

\n He fucked me brutally,\ntrying to deny me any pleasure. Yet my masochist tendencies were at\ntheir perverted height, and I couldn’t help getting turned on, as\nhe thrust harder and harder into my cunt. But he came before I could\ncum myself. I was denied, at least for the moment.

\n Once he had had his\npleasure he returned to the main business: the meeting of my flesh\nwith red hot metal. He got out a poker (it looked like) and touched\nit, several times, inside my armpits. That was not the least bit\nsexy, not even for a masochist like myself. It just hurt, a hurt\nbeyond pain.

\n He rolled the metal up and\ndown my sides, until the metal was no longer glowing. Then he\nreturned it to the coals. \n

\n He must have had small\nneedles resting on the brazier, as he picked one of those up next. He\nstarted on my fingers, stretching a near dead finger out and forcing\nit up under the fingernails. With the blood cut off by the rope\naround my wrists the only things I could do were scream and suffer. I\ncould not move my fingers at all.

\n He delighted with thrusting\nred hot needles under each fingernail. He was beginning to get\naroused again by my tortured groans. He started on my feet, thrusting\na needle under each toenail. I screamed and screamed and screamed.

\n By now he was rock hard\nagain. He moved around behind me. I felt his cockhead touch my anus.\nI had no strength to resist. He raped my arsehole, taking pleasure in\nripping me apart. He came a second time inside me.

\n Once he had cum he returned\nto the brazier. He pulled out an iron with a flat head. He laughed,\nas he stood in front of me. He touched it to my inner thighs, again\nand again, slowly working his way up towards my defenceless pussy.\nFinally he had branded a rout all of the way to wear my thighs\nreached my groin. \n

\n He burned my pussy mound,\ntime and again, leaving little round marks. But he had not yet\ntouched my labia or clit. He was saving those for near the end. \n

\n More short needles were\nproduced. They were used on my labia, pinning my cuntlips to my\nthighs, so that my cunt was painfully open. More needles, carefully\ninserted, held my clit hood out of the way, so that it was utterly\ndefenceless. It was erect, and red, and soon to feel the touch of red\nhot metal.

\n My torturer produced\nanother iron from the coals. Its round head was the exact width of my\nclit. He touched it to my clit and held it there. I came and fainted.

\n But, of course, I was not\nallowed to seek solace in unconsciousness. I was slapped back to\nwakefulness.

\n “No more.” I begged.\n“No more.”

\n But, of course, there had\nto be more. My durance was not complete. That cruellest of irons was\napplied to what remained of my clit time and time again, until it was\ntotally burned away. No more orgasms.

\n There was one final torture\nwhich had been saved for me. The torturer brought one final iron,\nglowing white, for it had been in the heart of the coals all night.\nNot counting its handle it was two feet long, and as thick as my\ntorturer’s cock. There was only one place for it to go. Its glowing\nhead was touched to my open cunt, and I screamed a final scream, as\nits full length was slowly thrust up into me, burning my insides,\nruining my cunt. It was forced up until I expired, and darkness\ndescended.

\n
\n\n

\nMy eyes flickered open. I was\nnaked and cold, lying on ancient stone flagstones. I felt around for\nmy backpack. I found my flashlight on its top, just where I had left\nit. I put the flashlight on the floor, and quickly got dressed.

\n There was not a mark on me.\nI did not feel exhausted, or as though I had been tortured. Instead I\nfelt more alive than I had ever been. \n

\n I could see that the door\nto the ancient dungeon was open. I could see the ruined torture\nequipment. But, this time, there were the rotting remains of the\nframe to which I had been attached, and the rusting remnants of a\nbrazier.

\n As I walked back up the\nstone steps to the surface I wondered what piece of torture equipment\nwould be waiting for me the next time that I came down.

\n
\n\n

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\nThe End

","authorName":"Crowley","authorUserId":"24246195-559a-461c-a6d3-e12d9a6af0eb","rating":4.8,"ratingCount":5,"reviewCount":5,"quoteCount":0,"storyCodes":["Extreme","Fantasy","Real Life","Bondage","Masochism","Pain","Snuff","Consensual"],"language":"English","readTime":11,"recommendations":[{"id":"6fffacb2-e8c2-489c-96b5-8b8723d3263a","title":"Leanne Gives Up Her Safe Word","slug":"leanne-gives-up-her-safe-word","shortId":"sksLcYa4","synopsis":"Master Crowley has another visit from the masochistic Leanne, who wants torture without the \"out\" of a safe word.","rating":5},{"id":"a505ee7f-9e32-4102-8a30-c466663195a9","title":"A new life for Isabelle","slug":"a-new-life-for-isabelle","shortId":"EtncUfwr","synopsis":"A girl taking the ultimate steps to become a living sex toy","rating":5},{"id":"e5563f1e-76fb-4369-9004-6494263d106e","title":"Clit Torture 101","slug":"clit-torture-101","shortId":"TQsnh4pi","synopsis":"A tale of an exhibition of extreme clit torture ends up even nastier than the submissive expected.","rating":5}]}}},"actionData":null,"errors":null}