Angry Chair

Got inspired by Alice In Chains this afternoon. 🫀

I come to. I slowly open my eyes, that seem to be matted together by my mascara from my makeup from the night before. I squint, as I look up and notice florescent lighting coming down right above me, but darkness everywhere else. I groan and attempt to cry out, when I notice my mouth is duct taped.

I stir and squirm, and as I do I feel a pinch of what feels like handcuffs on my wrists. My wrists are bound and behind me in the chair. "Where am I?" I wonder, trying to calm my resolve as my fight or flight begins to kick in and my heart rate speeds up.

I try to kick but my feet are shackled as well, and my thighs are spread apart. I am naked. So exposed and vulnerable. Anxious. The cold metal chair sends shivers down my spine and I begin to tremble. I look around once more and try to recognize anything familiar. Where I am. I scream behind the tape and suddenly stop as I hear footsteps approaching. Slowly. Too slowly. Like a lion does right before he pounces on his prey.

The metal clanks against the chair as I try to break free from the handcuffs, but I stop as it only leaves painful, sharp intentions. The footsteps approach closer and I see a man walk out of the shadow. He is tall, broad shouldered. Intimidating and overwhelming. I can tell by the mischievous and daunting smirk on his face, he did this and he loves it.

"What are you doing?" I mutter. But it only comes out muffled. He laughs. "Can't talk with duct tape, can you whore?" He says. I look down, defeated and my eyes swell up. Adrenaline. Anticipation.

He walks up and suddenly grabs a fist full of my hair, yanks my head back with force and spits in my face. I close my eyes and squirm. He puts two fingers in my mouth and I begin to salivate,

As he pushes them deeper, making me gag. He then grabs my cheeks and looks me dead in the eyes. I can feel his power. He smacks me hard and I gasp and scream. My body goes from tense to immediately limp, as I begin to drift and fade away to subspace.

He lets go of my hair and runs his hand along my body from my neck to pussy. But doesn't touch it. Just teasing. I writhe and squirm. He's playing a game and I hate it.

He walks away and I'm afraid he's left me until I realize he's here to do what he needed to do. Torture me. Make me suffer. He comes back but this time his resolve is different than the first approach. It's menacing. Deviant. Sadistic.

Suddenly my shivers shift from cold shivers to absolute nervousness. He spreads my legs further apart with quickness and places his hand between my legs, feeling my cunt. "Mmmm. Someone is ready." He says. I moan.

He pulls a Hitachi out of his left pocket and turns it on high, then teases me with it. Running it from my navel to pelvic bone, and circling just above my pussy. I squirm and groan, and finally be places it hard on my clit. The pleasure builds and I can feel my fluids running down my thighs. I want so badly to cum, but he knows I'm close and he's not done yet. He turns off the Hitachi as my moans become louder and echo off the walls of this abandoned warehouse. "Please.. ugh. Fuck!" I growl. He smacks me again, hard as fuck, and tears form. He then licks them off of my face and smirks.

He walks over to a table and walks back to me with a pair of clover nipple clamps. My eyes widen, as I know how these feel and I anticipate the pain, and tense up instinctively. He places them on my nipples one at a time, and gives them a tug. I cry out and let out a highly frustrated sigh. I can't stand the intensity. He walks away again and brings back a candle and lighter. I squirm and try to break free once again and he shakes his head. "I wouldn't do that."

He lights the candle and the wax drips all over my chest/nipples/sternum. It burns but it is absolutely euphoria at the same time. The pain becomes to intense, it almost faded into a blur as I drift deeper and deeper. I roll my head back and my eyes flutter and I groan loudly. He tugs on the clamps again. He removes his belt from his jeans and begins giving me lash after lash after lash. Leaving me absolutely breathless and unresponsive. My makeup is running and my body glistens with sweat and tears. A trickle of blood from the hard face slap forms on my lip and rolls down. He runs his finger along the duct tape, tasting the blood and sucking his fjnger like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

The lashes begin once more and he hits my breasts hard, making the clamps come off and I yelp so loudly, and scream a primal scream. He rips off the duct tape and I exhale. He drops the belt and grabs my hair again, making me look at him so he can see the fear in my eyes. "I want you to beg me to make you cum. Do it. Beg me, slut."

"Please. Fucking please!"

He grabs the Hitachi once more and places it on my clit, on low. I'm writhing. He then pulls his pants down and removes his erect, pulsing cock. Red welts begin forming on my face and chest. Without warning he spreads my legs further apart and rams his cock inside me. I audibly gasp and cry out. Like I have never felt a cock inside me before. "Oh my God!" I say. "Yes, bitch. I am God."

He rocks me back and forth and pounds me so hard. My eyes roll back and I am begging. The vibe is now on high and between the immense orgasm building up and the twinge of immense pain from everything else, I can't take it. I am growling and his grunts and groans get louder as he thrusts into me, and grips my small throat hard with his other hand. The chair is rocking and my wrists still bound behind it. My legs begin to shake as an orgasm rips through my entire body. Right before it does, he thrusts deeper inside me, groaning as he feels my pussy convulse and contract and envelop his cock. "Stupid fucking whore." he says, seething and hissing.

I go limp and let out a whimper. He pulls out and pulls his pants up and stares at me. I am shattered. Depleted and at his mercy.

He walks up to me and I wince, expecting a slap. He pets my head instead. "Good girl" he says. He releases me from the handcuffs and unbinds my legs. I immediately fall to the floor. Battered. Naked. I crawl to him slowly. I reach his black boot, look up, my eyes doe-eyed and wide. "Thank you, Sir."

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