Dungeon Torture

(A mysterious black cloaked nymph drives a muscular barbarian almost nuts while the latter was chained hand and foot in his dungeon cell.)

The huge, brawny barbarian writhed in his chains and bellowed in anger. Never had he been so humiliated. He been stripped totally naked of his clothes and weapons and was now bound hand and foot and spread-eagled on a heavy wooden cross. His bullish neck was tied against the wooden post of the cross with a heavy black metal chain, and both his muscular arms were also tied in a similar manner to the horizontal yoke straddling across his shoulders. He could barely move.

Hours passed. After falling into a trap set by that bitch, of whom he did not even know her name, he had awoken to find himself in this sorry state in what seemed to be a cold, damp dungeon cell. With nothing better to do, his thoughts began to try to recollect how he had ended up this way.

He had just left that ramshackle town, having spent his ill-gotten gains on ale and whoring, well satisfied and smug. The town's prostitutes were much the same as what he encountered elsewhere -- crude, filthy and very mercenary.

As he entered the dark forest on another journey to raid another hapless village, he spied a cloaked and hooded figure standing in the sunlight streaming onto the forest floor in the middle of his path.

The figure was dressed in a voluminous black satin cloak concealing its entire form. The cloak extended well beyond the figure's ankles, the hems of the silky material brushing the mossy forest floor. Even from afar, he could tell that the figure was a female. A strong scent of roses, violets and the unmistakable odor of femininity permeated from the figure. The barbarian could already feel his balls tightening in his loins at this enchanting spectacle.

Without a word, the satin covered figure turned on its heel, the liquid folds of its cloak swishing across the flat forest floor.

The barbarian had followed the alluring feminine cloaked, wraith-like figure which glided smoothly on the forest floor. He quickened his steps, but always she seemed to be beyond his reach.

Abruptly, she stopped, a slim tent-like figure dressed in shiny black. The barbarian caught up with her, just stopping behind her. Reaching forth a meaty hand, he started to stroke her shapely back concealed by the smooth fabric of her cloak. The action nearly gave him an electrical jolt of delight.

Becoming bolder, the barbarian let his hand move downwards and squeeze what should be her buttocks covered by the lustrous fabric. The barbarian's heart nearly skipped a beat when his touch yielded firm, soft yielding flesh. A strange, intoxicating scent began to permeate from the cloaked figure and fill the clearing.

Subconsciously, he breathed in the heady scent, and the next thing he knew when he woke up was that of imprisonment in this dank prison cell.

The door to the cell where the barbarian was imprisoned opened, and a dainty looking foot in a black satin high-heeled shoe appeared in the barbarian's line of sight. It was the mysteriously cloaked woman again. The voluminous folds of her mid-night cloak covered her from neck to toe, leaving nothing uncovered and everything to imagination. Nevertheless, her alluring figure, concealed by her outer satin garment, was beyond doubt in the barbarian's mind.

Soundlessly, she glided forward so that the smooth material of her cloak brushed the naked bronze of the barbarian's rough skin.

Because of the tautness of the chain around his neck, the barbarian could not look downwards, but the light brushing of the smooth, cool fabric of this woman on his naked skin aroused him quickly.

As his manhood shot upwards rigidly like the wooden post he was chained to, it was rapidly covered by the split of both folds of the woman's satin cloak. The barbarian could feel delicate, cool, satiny fingers caressing the shaft of his hardened manhood and he let out a groan.

The veiled woman's face was a mere inches from his face, and he could smell her impossibly sweet scented breath, a cross between champagne and very heady perfume. Those doe-like eyes with their long eyelashes seemed to stare intensely at him over the black satin veil that covered the bottom half of her face. Light blue eye shadows were painted around her eyes' fringes, giving her a smothering, sultry look even with her face half concealed.

His chest was heaving, and he was breathing heavily. Sweat streamed down his squared jaw face. He so needed to have sex with this satiny enchantress now. So near, but yet so far. And there was nothing he could do about it.

The sexy siren continued stroking his long, thick meat with her smooth, black satin gloved fingers, all the while long lashed brown eyes staring intensely into his.

The barbarian wanted to rage at this evil bitch, this woman who had imprisoned him and was even now, playing with his manhood. But somehow, he was at a loss for words. And those cool fingers caressing his hard shaft felt so good.

The barbarian's mammoth cock ached for release, but being bound hand and foot to the cross, there was nothing he could do, while the silky vamp took her time caressing his stick. Finally after what seemed like hours had passed, the cloaked woman withdrew her fingers and her cloaked form seemed to float slightly off the ground, the sensual fabric rubbing against the barbarian's skin, causing him to shiver with lustful pleasure.

In an increasing stupor, the barbarian was only dimly aware that the woman was carefully sheathing his staff with a silken, skin tight sheath. Then his shaft was slowly enveloped by warm, silken folds that seemed to swallow the knob of the barbarian's cock.

The barbarian could hear a small gasp from the veiled woman as she impaled herself slowly on his tool. Her sultry eyes also closed for a moment as her head tilted back into the black, satin hood.

Since the barbarian could not even shift his head because of the tight chain wrapped around his neck, he could not see any further immediately beyond him, but he was aware of the woman's thighs and legs wrapping around his loins and around the wooden beam he was tied to.

She sat easily on his shaft, her silky body seeming to be resting weightlessly on his. All the barbarian seemed to feel was the woman's entire being surrounding his cock. Cool, smooth thighs wrapped themselves around his groin and the beam he was tied to.

Without a further word, she sat herself up and down, pumping on the barbarian's sex organ in the standing position. He soon came to with a groan, his sperm spilling into the silken sheath that the woman wrapped around his cock.

His dick was rapidly softening, but her black satin gloved hands reached downwards and stroked his shaft again, and as if by magic, it again hardened within a few seconds' time.

Without warning, the post the barbarian was tied to tilted backwards, and his semi-hardened dick, still buried in the black cloaked female's flower, was wrenched backwards as her soft torso now was almost perpendicular to his. As the barbarian lay horizontally on the laid back wooden cross, he could now see the mysterious woman sitting on top of him in the amazon's position.

To have this beautiful, mysterious nymph fucking him was more than enough to cause his cock to fully harden once more. He had to deposit his sperm again into her, as his manhood grew to a prodigious length, impaling her again in her womanly canal.

The woman kept her black satin cloak wrapped around her, concealing every inch of her alluring body from the barbarian's view. She rode him like a horse, and was soon pumping herself up and down expertly again on his shaft. Her flower caressed and massaged his stick, now slick with her feminine juices, in a very expert manner.

The woman's satin hood fell backwards, and her silky raven hair, done up in a bun, fell wantonly loose, cascading like a second cloak around her shoulders, reaching down to her hips as she rode and rode hard on his stick. She tossed her head from side to side in an uncontrollable silent ecstasy, even as she refrained from crying out.

After several minutes, the barbarian's enormous cock again spat forth its contents, and at that moment, the enchantress also seemed to weaken and she collapsed on top of the barbarian, panting and gasping, her voluminous black satin cloak covering them both, like a huge silk blanket.

The barbarian was thrilled to have this sexy creature resting on top of his body. Too bad, that his hands and head were all tied up, and he could not make a single move to molest his lover.

After a while, the woman sat up from her position, and disengaged her body from the barbarian, leaving his softening silk clad dick well-soaked in feminine juices. Mysterious, the wooden post also shifted from a horizontal position back to its original standing, vertical position, so that the barbarian, spent and exhausted, could see the woman could now standing in front of him, her veiled face only a few inches from the barbarian's.

She whispered into his face, a very low and sexy voice full of sultry desire. "You will remember this night when you have been sent to the mines, where there are no women at all, where men are worked slowly to death, and the guards willingly sodomise any of the prisoners at whim. You will remember me forever, and this night's pleasure."

Stepping back daintily, she deliberately opened her black satin cloak very slowly for the barbarian to see her body.

She was nude beneath the cloak, her peerless, sleek body like a perfect statue of white ivory. The moonlight streaming into the cell seemed to illuminate her seductive curves, her alluring waist and well-toned thighs. Instead of pubic hair, the woman had three black satin feathers lined with gold thread growing atop her womanly cleft. The lips of her womanhood were decorated with black, silky-like petals like a violet flower. Two, extremely long, black satin ribbons hung from her pubes where the pubic hair was supposed to be. Thigh length, black satin stockings concealed her shapely, long legs ending in lycra high heeled shoes.

The rest of her slender body was utterly hairless, a perfect piece of pallid sculpture.

Without a word, she closed her cloak again just as quickly as she opened it.

Then she whirled gracefully around, and like a wraith, she glided swiftly out of the cell, vanishing rapidly into the night.

The barbarian never saw the mysterious woman again. In any case, his career as an adventurer was over. Soon after, he was dragged out of his cell and sent to labour in some gold mines, where the hard life of a mining slave soon broke his back and spirit. In less than a year's time, he was reduced to a bag of skin and bones.

But still, on certain nights with the full moon, the ex-barbarian would wonder, who was the black satin clad siren who visited him in his cell and gave him the night of his life..........

END

If you like this story, please vote for Silkyalyssia, e-mail me.