What Happens in the Dark Ch. 01

In other words a generic fucking man. Why was I thinking such fucking nice things about him!? His cock was definitely bigger than the one I'd seen before, maybe it was just the time difference, but it seemed like it was twice as thick and significantly longer than the other one I'd seen and it was limp! I knew once a man got an erection it got bigger. How had that thing fit in my poor coochie!?

The room was terrifying. The walls were covered in pads, the ceiling was simple white with inset lights in little cavities. It didn't matter, I couldn't reach them to try anything dumb. There was a mattress in the corner that I assumed was to be my sleeping arraignment. The only real things in the room were a tankless toilet, and racks. There must have been seven or eight different racks and I could see exactly what position I'd be strapped in for most of them and there was only one thing that each of them was... making sure if I wasn't going to let him do whatever he wanted to me, he'd get it anyway.

I shivered and looked back at my captor. He was kinda.... Cute...you know, once you got past the whole 'he just fucking raped me' thing. His face even relaxed despite the fact that I had just probably fucked everything up.

Well, either I was dead or.... I didn't know what the other option was. I was terrified and curious and strangely calm at the same time. I should have been freaking out, but my brain just seemed to not, for some reason. I could see the door, but it was doubtless locked. There was nothing but him, me, sex racks, my bed and a toilet.

He'd just fucked me, but I wasn't sure how long before he'd want it again. He seemed to be thinking.

"Um... May I have some water?" I asked, trying to sound like the strong and assertive woman I was, but it just came out, almost like begging.

"Oh...." He muttered, rousing himself. Then his face hardened, "You will address me as master at all times, slut. If you don't you'll be back on a rack until I say you get to come out. Understood!"

I gasped. 'Master' was he some sort of.... Well, he kidnapped me and was raping me, so probably... whatever that term was.... Better to not piss him off.

"I-I-I'm sorry... Master." I added. "May I have some water, Master?"

He smiled in that cocky, toxic way. Oh god.

He walked to the door and opened it.. I saw a small hall outside, but didn't get much of a look. Once the door was closed I scampered over, keenly aware of my lack of clothing. He hadn't used a key or a code... maybe...

The door refused my efforts to turn the handle. I realized there was a freaking thumb scanner on the fucking door.

I retreated, I didn't want him thinking I was already trying to escape... maybe he'd get complacent, I could wait my time and run....

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and my captor handing me a bottle of water. I almost let my mouth drop open, he had a sex dungeon with biometric locks, and now he was giving his captive a bottle of pricey, name brand alkaline water? Who was this guy? How rich was he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Steven)

I'd zoned out for a second, then came too when Karen asked me for some water. I thought the whole 'Master' thing was a nice touch.

I could tell Karen had tried the door when was out fetching her water. There was a little indicator on each side of the handle to show failed attempts and it was lit red. You had to scan to go either way, in or out. I'd programmed all of my fingerprints in, so even if she bit my thumb or something, I could get out. I didn't want her to know that I knew just yet. I had decided any sort of recording or evidence of what was going on was a no go. I didn't want her thinking she could get away with anything but I wanted to see what I could catch her doing early to see if there was some way out of my underground sex bunker that I hadn't thought of.

The passage into my sex-dungeon was well hidden. There was the bookshelf that had hidden hinges and a latch you had to know about to move it out of the way, then there was a false panel with a hidden latch you had to find, then finally you had to use biometrics to open the door. That only let you into the mantrap, and you had to scan biometrics again to get either from the mantrap into the sex dungeon, or out of the mantrap and into my basement. There was dirt above, beneath, and on every side of the sex dungeon, and with the thick and well insulated doors, no sound would escape it.

There was an air vent to maintain the temperature in there, after all, Karen wasn't the only one naked in there. I had had three sets of duct silencers installed and nothing sound wise made it through that, though the temperature regulation worked just fine. I'd even installed zone heating and cooling, and the thermostat was concealed behind a mesh panel in the dungeon.

Was all of this excessive? Yes. Was it necessary? Absolutely not. I never had guests since all my friends moved away after college and the whole reason I was doing this was because no woman wanted a 'jobless loser' as a boyfriend, even if said 'jobless loser' was worth hundreds of millions of dollars and had investments that would likely keep my children and maybe even grandchildren and great grandchildren set for life.

So why did I do it?

Okay, maybe it was because it made me feel like a super spy. I liked the coolness and the secrecy. Maybe if one day I did find a wife I would turn it into my super secret spy man-cave. I had outlets, internet jacks and everything I'd need behind the pads I'd put up. And it was just cool.

I tried to think of myself more like a cool superspy than a super villain, but if I was a super villain (okay, medicare villain, but whatever) it was the fault of bitches like Karen. So full of themselves that they thought that the world owed them anything and everything they ever wanted. Men were just insects or at best tools to be abused to get what women like her wanted.

Now it was her turn to get used, and what I wanted was a cum slut.

It was strange, the look Karen gave me when I handed her the bottle of water. It as like I was handing her fucking gold or something. It was just water. I mean, I'd tried a few brands and found the one I thought tasted the best. (And don't tell me water is water and it all tastes the same. That is bullshit.) But it was still just water.

"Now slut, it is late. Get some sleep. You have a long day of fucking tomorrow." I instructed.

Karen gaped at me, "But... isn't it morning?... Master!" She added hastily.

I laughed, "Oh, my poor, stupid slut. It has only been two hours since you went running in the park. You have a long and cum filled two months ahead of you." I told her.

And with that, I turned and opened the door and let it close silently behind me leaving a shocked, confused Karen, cum drying on her inner thighs holding a bottle of water as she realized her nightmare was just starting.