"Let me show you the house", he said.

Earlier, on the phone, he had hinted that there was a room that might be able to be put to good use. I looked at the house as he showed me around, but......where was the room that he had mentioned? We had been completely through the house, could I have misunderstood him? There were high ceilings, a lot of wood, many places for a slut to be restrained and used, but no special room.

"Look in here", he said. I walked over to where he was standing, outside of a door that looked like it would have a coat closet behind it. He opened the door - ooooooooohhhhh my. It was not a coat closet. It was about 8 feet long, about 8 feet high, maybe 4 feet wide. There was one single chair inside. It took my breath away, literally. The orgasm was immediate - wait, the orgasms were immediate.

"Do you want to go in there?", he asked. "Yes, Sir", I managed to reply. As he got the leather wrist straps ready, I quickly rid myself of my street clothes and put on a short, silk chemise. My knees were weak, my breathing rapid and shallow, my body trembling as he tightened the straps around my wrists. He took my hand and led me to the open door, turning me to sit on the chair before he attached the chains on the wall to the wrist straps. "Enjoy", he said, as he smiled and closed the door.

The orgasms came one after the other - over and over and over. Alone in the dark, the only light a few streaks that crept in where the door didn't quite meet the frame. The floor creaking occasionally - where was he? Was he upstairs, had he gone downstairs, had he gone outside? Was he listening?

The silence broken by a passing train, the vibration from it barely able to be felt in the house - but felt enough that it made the orgasms even stronger. The passing sounds of traffic, of horns. Vanilla people living their daily life not knowing what was happening behind these walls. Not knowing there was a woman restrained in what is basically a small, hot storage room; the sweat running down her face, her body convulsing with the fear and the pleasure of the confinement. The slut who hates being hot, who hates to sweat, not caring because her mind was leaving reality, her mind going to the place where only pleasure is known. She hears the low moans, the occasional screams as she rocks back and forth.

Mmmmmm, finally winding down, slowly coming back to reality. My hair wet, my gown soaked with sweat and cum. The strong orgasms over, but still riding the waves - the electrical shocks going from head to toe. My breathing returning to normal, my eyes opening - looking around for something but not able to see in the darkness. Finally hearing his footsteps on the stairs, coming closer until the door opened.

"Are you ready to come out"?

"Yes, Sir" I whispered.

The leather straps released from the chains, his strong hand reaching out to help me up.

How long was I in there? I don't know. It seemed like a couple of hours, but was it only 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour? I have no idea, and he won't tell me.

The possibilites of that room are endless.

Thank you, Sir.