Run.

As soon as my foot leaves the tile, hatches in the ceiling open and mechanical hands on long coiling arms spring out of the darkness. I try to run but they're faster than I could ever be, and there's more of them than I can fight off. They grab me and haul me into the air. In no time at all I've been stripped to my skin, rendered humiliatingly bare, and had my neck and wrists clapped into a pillory. I'm bent over with my buttocks in the air, held up by a wooden pedestal beneath my belly, presenting the hands with a tempting target. To muffle my squeals, my panties are stuffed into my mouth and bound there with a length of rope.

First, weighted clamps are attached to the pretty strawberry nipples of my full breasts. They hurt. A lot. Then, the hands spread my buttocks and slide an oiled butt-plug, specially carved from exotic wood, into my ass. That doesn't hurt, it's just incredibly embarrassing. Finally, I'm spanked. First by the hands, then with the paddle, then with a pair of riding-crops. That hurts even more than the clamps. The hands finish up by giving me ten strokes with a hickory cane, which makes me howl with pain into my gag, and retreat into the ceiling, shaking each other and congratulating themselves on a job well done. I'm left to stew and squirm and curse myself for my stupidity. Of course the dungeon would be trapped. And now I'm stuck here, punished and gagged and butt-plugged, with nothing to do but wait out the long cold hours until morning.

The other victims in the dungeon seem to have slept through the whole thing. They must be tired out. Poor things.