His Darkest Secret

The Darkness

The lights were dim, if any. But In the luminescent glow of his scattered candles I could see why the door had always remained locked. There was a bed in the center of the room, backing up to one wall. Satin black sheets, lacy black pillowcases, and a deep velvety black top duvet half turned at the top corner revealing a blood red back. Aside from the bed, the rest of the room followed the black and red pattern of decor. A deep red leather couch sat upon a black and white patterned rug in front of another wall. But these things, these were the foreseeable things. These were the expected things. The safe things. What wasn't safe, expected, nor foreseeable was the wall across from the beautiful couch. This wall held toys masterminded by a true sadist. Metal clasps for what I can only assume wrists bolted to a wall about 6 feet off the ground on other side of a slightly higher, larger metal clasp. My eyes lingered long enough for Dylan to notice. "for a neck," he said quietly, reading my mind. "Oh." I sad timidly. "Of course, I knew that." He smiled a bit and continued to watch me gaze at the wall. A small chair, padded of course with black leather, stood with metal stirrups at the bottom next to a small table, a counter almost, with storage hanging off the side full of small metal objects, various toys, and tools I couldn't put a name to. A shudder tan through me, picturing my legs spread apart on his contraption while he stared into my soul. I continued down the wall and saw another small mattress, most likely a twin, with nothing but a black sheet atop it. Four restraint loops waited patiently at each corner for respective wrists and ankles to bound, tightly. Next to this bed was a small table with a drawer built in. I wonder what small horrors filled it. Near the bed was a hook on the wall holding a massive amount of rope. Not pink paracord like I was familiar with in my own bedroom, actual brown, itchy, splintery rope. A second hook was home to a large paddle. My blood was ice, but my panties gave me away. The rush of blood to my core told me I was more than ready to be this man's captive. More than eager to be tormented by his rough hands. He must've spent a fortune on this room. I wonder how many women have used it. Or rather- been used in it. I tried to shake the invasive thoughts from my head. He seemed to notice and pulled my body against his, his arm around my neck stroking my cheek, his body hard against my back. "I made this for you, darling, would you like me to show you my toys?" "Yes daddy" was all I could squeak out