Dungeon

I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it.

First, there was only darkness. Deep, absolute, so much so that I didn't even know if my eyes were open. Then the cold hit me – sharp, penetrating, as if someone had thrown me into icy water. My skin crawled, my whole body covered in goosebumps. I tried to move, and then I realized: I was naked. Completely. No dress, no underwear, no shoes. Nothing.

Something cold and heavy clamped down on my right wrist. A chain. I heard the clang of metal as I jerked my arm. My other arm followed – both chained to something behind my head, probably the wall. Chained high enough that I had to stand on my tiptoes to avoid hanging with all my weight on my hands. My legs were free, but the floor… the floor was wet, slippery, a cold concrete floor with puddles of water that sloshed underfoot.

The air stank. Musty, moldy, urine, and something else—something metallic, like rust or… blood. My nose wrinkled, my stomach lurched. My breathing was shallow, panic growing with each passing second.

“Hello?” I said quietly, my voice shaking like jelly. “Is anyone here?”

Nothing. Just the distant dripping of water somewhere in the corner. The echo of my own breathing.

I tried to remember. The party. The patio. The bushes. The kitten. And then… those hands. The stun gun. The hooded face.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. I had to think. Where was I? The basement? The garage? Some abandoned building? The house was on the outskirts, beyond which were fields and woods—someone could easily carry me out the side gate and throw me into a car.

I tugged at the chains, but I only scraped my wrists. The metal was thick, cold, immovable. I tried to scream.

“Help! Someone help me!” The voice echoed, but it sounded weak, as if the walls were swallowing everything.

Silence.

The cold was getting worse. I was trembling, my teeth chattering. I tried to curl up, but my position wouldn't let me. I stood straight, exposed, ****. I felt a trickle of sweat trickle down my back despite the cold—from fear.

And then I heard it.

Footsteps. Slow, heavy, somewhere overhead. The boards creaked. Someone was walking across the floor above me. They stopped directly below me. I heard a quiet laugh—low, masculine.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst.

Suddenly – without warning – the light came on.

It was harsh, white, merciless. A bare bulb, hanging somewhere high above my head, probably a hundred-watt. After hours of complete darkness, it hit me like a hammer. I closed my eyes reflexively, but I still saw red stains, tears streaming down my face. I tried to turn my head, but the chains wouldn't allow much.

I heard footsteps. Quick, decisive. Someone was already in the room.

Before I could say anything, before my eyes adjusted – a hiss. Something cold and wet hit me square in the face, in my eyes. Pepper spray. I felt it immediately: a burning sensation, as if someone had poured boiling oil into my eyes. I screamed, jerked my body, but I couldn't shield myself, couldn't even wipe my eyelids. My lungs tightened, I coughed, tears streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the damn thing.

And then all hell broke loose.

The first blow hit me squarely in the left breast – a heavy, masculine fist. The pain was sharp, spreading, as if someone had driven a red-hot nail into my chest. I doubled over as far as the chains would allow, but then the second struck my right. And the third. The fourth. He struck hard, deliberately, right on my nipples, the most sensitive spots. Each blow made my whole body jump, the chains clanged, and I tried to scream, but my throat burned with gas, my voice only coming out as a hoarse squeal.

He laughed as he did so. Quiet, low, guttural – as if this were the best time of his life.

And then a kick. Right between my legs, with a boot, full ****. It hit perfectly, dead center. The pain was so intense that for a moment I stopped breathing. The world spun, my legs buckled beneath me, and I hung by my hands, feeling my wrists almost snap. Something warm trickled down my thighs – I didn't know if it was blood or if I'd just urinated from the pain. Another kick, a little lower, right into my pussy, and another – into my stomach, making me double over.

He didn't say a word. Just that laugh.

The footsteps receded. I heard the click of a switch, and again darkness – complete, heavy as a blanket. A door slammed somewhere behind me. I was left alone.

I was hanging on those damn chains, trembling, my eyes burning so hard I couldn't even open them, a throbbing, ripping pain between my legs, my chest as if on fire. I was breathing shallowly, sobbing, trying not to move too much, because every movement was a new wave of agony.

And just a drip, drip, drip of water somewhere in the corner.