kidnapped, tortured and raped (rated R)

kidnapped, tortured and raped (rated R)

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WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication dim., sept. 14, 2014
i felt a cold breeze. and as if the unthinkable happens, i realize what is going on. im on a comfertable surface, most likely a bed. my hands are handcuffed to the top bedpost, while my legs are tied, rather tightly i may add, spread apart on the bottom bed post. i am naked so i feel quite exposed. dear god its freezing in this room. i got cold shivers going down my spine. i start to scream, because maybe there is someone in this house who is not completly insane who can help me.
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#367
tortured
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isolation

this story is about a scientist in Antarctica slowly losing his sanity I can feel the corners of my lips tug upwards and before I know it, I'm cackling. My laughter rings through the empty room, bouncing off the walls as I double over in hysterics. Despite the dire situation, I can't seem to stop. With each passing second, my giggles become more uncontrollable, more manic. As I catch my breath, I try to reassure myself. "Everything will be fine," I tell myself, punctuating my sentence with another bout of laughter. "Because, because!" I repeat, and my voice breaks into another round of giggles. But soon, my mirth turns to misery as my laughter becomes sobs. I collapse on my hands and knees, tears streaming down my face until they blur my vision. The tears burn my skin, adding to my anguish. I can't even cry in peace, can't even surrender to my despair without feeling physical pain. "Oh god, I ruin everything Johnny- I'm sorry!" I cry out, my voice cracking. "I'm supposed to keep care of you and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Johnny!" I scream, pounding my fists on the cold, hard floor in frustration. It's no use. Nothing can save me. I feel my tears freezing on my face and I quickly dry them with the back of my hand. I crawl over to the fire, seeking warmth and comfort. But there's no comfort to be found.

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