Confinement

I accepted the invitation because I felt special. I woke up naked, with a collar on my neck and a woman who had already decided what she’d turn me into.

The last thing I remembered was toasting with a beautiful woman. The next, waking on a basement floor, weak, naked, and with no possible escape.

I woke up handcuffed to a chain, a collar around my neck and a gag tasting of filth. In front of me, the lady was smiling: she was only just beginning with me.

The woman who chained me in that basement wasn’t after pleasure: she meant to teach me, blow by blow, that my body no longer belonged to me and that her word was the only law.

The scanner gave a red beep and, in that instant, I knew I would never again be the man who had entered that room that morning.

For months she had begged for a single word from him. On Tuesday his message arrived, and the proposal was so reckless that accepting it could cost her far more than her pride.

They had warned her that there would be no mercy on the second day. What Diana did not know was how far the two women in the white room were prepared to take her.

I knew it was dangerous to be alone with her in the boiler room, but when she tied my wrists to the wall and brushed my skin with her fangs, I didn’t want her to stop.

I arrived in a red top and black skirt, without underwear, knowing that once I crossed that door I would no longer belong to myself.

Surrounded by vampires in that old slaughterhouse, with the green collar choking my neck, I understood my body no longer belonged to me. I could only beg for a few more days.

The clause was clear: once inside, no pleading would stop what they had planned for her. And yet she signed, with her panties wet.