Part 1: A weekend getaway, with knives.
His eyes stare intently through the gloom, tracking the winding road before you through the darkness, lit only by the instrument panel on the dash, and the headlights cutting a swathe in the darkness ahead.
You sit beside him, naked, except for the collar around your neck, the cuffs around your wrists and ankles, and the thick leather locking chastity belt around your waist that's holding the plugs in place in your ass and pussy. The cuffs connect to a short chain that's anchored to the bottom of the chair holding you in place.
Each bump in the road sends new shivers of sensation deep into your core.
He turns off the road and heads down a narrow dirt track, a farmhouse becoming slowly visible when the lights pass across it as the track twists and turns. He pulls up beside it and turns off the engine.
It doesn't take long for him to carry the bags inside from the boot of the car, and then carry you inside over his shoulder.
You find yourself in an old-fashioned kitchen. A roaring fire illuminates the smoke-stained exposed beams and the large butchers table in the centre if the room.
Large steel O-ring plates have been recently added to the table, and he uses these to restrain you, bent forwards over the table, the scored wood rough against your skin.
He slowly traces his hands across your skin. Alternating between light caresses and more deliberate deep pressure.
Then his nails start to drag along your back, across your ass and down your thighs. He moves away outside of your eyeline. You can hear him rustling through the toy bag for something, then move behind you, and the unmistakable _schring_ sound of a knife being drawn.
