The Beach House Escapades Ch. 03

Bdsm

I awaken before Vika once again, untangling myself from the girl’s limbs carefully so as not to disturb her. I get up and pad out to the living room where I check the camera and batteries mounted on the tripod.

For now I merely want to see the quality of the video and to note what changes in lighting or camera angle would be beneficial when filming Vika’s next session. With the sound off I watch as Vika performs her schoolgirl routine, congratulating myself once again on how easy it had been to convince her to allow me to film her sexual awakening.

I retrieve the camera and move it to one of the back bedrooms of my beachside mansion, this one now specially equipped with extra soundproofing and a series of props added to create a sadist’s dungeon.

In the room blackened with scrim cloth there are wall shackles, ropes, whips, nipple and pussy clips, ball gags, and other items associated with dungeons and torture.

Once the camera is set up and rolling I put on my black hood with holes cut for eyes, nose and mouth, and over that a lightweight movie camera similar to those used by recon soldiers complete with a drop down viewfinder and tiny remote control that I could attach anywhere on my body using a lightweight adhesive. My costume also includes a heavy black robe and black boots. Next I apply several water based decal-style tattoos to my arms and chest, and create a wicked, ragged scar on my chest that looks realistic enough to alter my appearance. I check myself in the dungeon’s mirror and then sneak back into my bedroom where Vika still lies sleeping.

This episode has not been rehearsed by us in advance, my intention to make this as realistic as possible. Raw emotions are crucial to this version’s “authenticity”.

Turning on my head cam I enter the darkened bedroom, switching on the LED lights on attached to the straps on either side of my head. These powerful little lamps illuminate whatever I’m looking at in blinding white light.

In the viewfinder my hand reaches out and yanks the down the covers on my bed and then roughly throws Vika onto her back. She awakens with a startled scream, her eyes opening wide in terror but blinded by the LEDs. One of my hands clutches her throat while the other runs up and down her body, plucking nipples and pinching her pussy lips. My head follows my hand, the camera recording it all.

“Derek?” she cries in fear.

“Hah!” I laugh, disguising my voice. “He’s dead, you little whore!”

I order her to sit up, giving her a slap across her face to urger her to my wish. Quick as a flash I have her blindfolded, bound and gagged, her wrists tied behind her back.

Ripping off my camera and hood I don a pair of shorts and a T shirt. I snatch her up from the bed and sling her over my shoulder. I trundle her out the bedroom and through the kitchen, outside into the startlingly hot day. I circle my car with her over my shoulder to make her think I ‘ve walked farther, knowing that I’m screened from view by the privacy hedges surrounding my house. I open the trunk of my A6 and set her down on her side.

“Make a sound and you’ll be as dead as your boyfriend,” I threaten in my disguised voice. “He’s back there lying naked in a pool of his own blood. I’ve saved some in a cup for you to drink later on when I get you to rape town,” I laugh harshly. “I watched everything he did to you. I heard you beg him to fuck you. You’ll be begging for me, too, bitch!”

Vika begins trembling uncontrollably. I get in and start the car, pulling out onto A1A. I drive one direction for a few minutes and then turned into a neighborhood, turning left and right in a haphazard way to confuse Vika, then return to A1A and back home.

Having previously set the zone control central air conditioning system for maximum cool when we get there it’s well below 65 degrees, 30 below the human body’s normal core temperature of 98.6. With her still trussed and blindfolded I carry her through the house and down the hall to the room I’ve set up as my dungeon.

Vika is struggling, and when I set her down on her feet she makes a move to evade me. I catch her pin her to the wall, using my body mass as I quickly cuff her hands into the restraints. She’s crying, and she makes an attempt to kick me. I catch her foot and pull it down, latching it in to a restraint there. Then I do the same to her other foot.

I back away, not saying a word, allowing the camera a full shot of her lithe and underdeveloped young body against the black backdrop. Her hair is a mess and her makeup is smeared, making her nakedness all the more dramatic.

I turn on the sound system and Death Metal music blares from the speakers, effectively drowning out any but the loudest cries. It is horrid music, but suits the mood I’m trying to establish and has the proper effect on little Vika, who tenses and writhes as the discordant notes and pounding cadence fills her head.

I get back into my costume, adding more black makeup around my eyes. ankara escort I approach her again after switching on some overhead lamps which suffuse the room in an eerie yellow glow. I’ve turned off the LED lamps on my hoodie cam. I walk up, knowing she can’t hear me and blow lightly on first one side of her face and then the other. Her head whips from side to side.

I snatch off her blindfold, allowing her to see me for the first time. Her breath sucks inward in a frightened gasp; the hood, the robe and tattoos convincing her that I am not me, but a stranger who has somehow invaded her world and kidnapped her. She stares in horror at a crude wood sign with the words Rape Town scrawled in blood red paint upon it. I hold a straw to her mouth which leads to a beaker of liquid in my outstretched hand.

“Drink!” I command over the music, holding a steel cup to her lips.

Vika searches my face, or rather my mask, for any sign of recognition. I’ve even gone so far as to put in contact lenses which have altered my eye color to dark brown from their normal glacier blue. When she doesn’t drink quickly enough to suit me I reach out and grab her throat again. It’s then she notices the tattoos and becomes convinced that someone else besides me is standing before her. She begins to pee in fright, and I back up and catch some of the urine in the cup. I wait for her to finish, the urine pooling beneath her in a puddle. I pretend to drink a gulp, smacking my lips in delight.

The liquid in the cup, besides the trace of Vika piss, is a combination of mescaline, PCP and DMT. Two of these are psychedelic compounds, one very fast acting and short in duration while the mescaline takes longer to begin its effects which last for several hours. The PCP is an animal tranquilizer, portioned to such a minute quantity in the drink I’ve administered to Vika that she will only feel an out of body dopiness, enhanced of course by the hallucinogenic attributes of the DMT and mesc. The DMT will hit her first; suddenly and without warning, the MAO inhibitor I’ve added allowing it to become active through oral ingestion.

I wait for a long minute, turning my back to Vika while knowing my other cameras are busy recording the scene from their wall mounts. I slowly turn around, letting her see what I’m holding in my hand.

It’s a huge dildo, shaped like a severed arm, the head a balled fist. When she sees it her knees sag and she hangs by her wrists, her mouth agape and her eyes showing indescribable terror. I put it back on the table and pick up another device, this one a long, curved surgical blade that shines ominously in the reflected light. I rake it through the air in quick successive slashes and she goes wild, a keening wail issuing from deep inside her and rising above the grinding obscenity of the music.

I return this to the table and turn back toward her, in my hand a ball gag. I walk over and roughly strap it to her head, then pinch her nipples until they are hard. I can tell the DMT is affecting her, for her breathing is rapid and her eyes are twitching and blinking. I reach over and kill the music, the room going silent so quickly that it is shocking to both of us. God, I hate that shit.

I pull the blindfold down over her eyes and leave her there in the frigid room while the DMT plays with her mind. I turn the stereo back on, this time with a tape of people whispering and odd sounds like metal scraping and shit like that. It’s spooky as hell when you’re straight, so I know it’s going to fuck with her head while she’s tripping.

I know she is in another world when after removing the gag from her mouth she begins singing nursery rhymes in a strange, hollow voice. She’s no longer shivering from the cold, a typical response to a potent hallucinogen, where body stimulae are over-ridden by the kaiedescopic visions going on within the mind. I turn off the air conditioner and begin letting the room warm up. It shouldn’t take too long; it’s hotter than hell outside today.

I click on the neon sign attached to the wall across from her. It blinks on and off, on and off. It reads, “NO HOPE”. I remove the blindfold and she stares at the sign, hypnotized by the strobing message. I place wood clothespins on her nipples, and another on the outer lips of each labia, dragging them downward with their weight.

She begins to whine until I show her a different ball gag, this one with spikes protruding from it. Her eyes widen and she collapses against the restraints again.

I put the gag down on the work bench. I slip the blindfold back over her eyes, then turn off the sign. I remove the restraints from her arms and legs, then pick her up and carry her to a narrow horizontal bench about four feet off the floor and built upon a sturdy base.

She’s tripping heavily on the hallucinogenic soup I’ve given her, mumbling incoherently and docile as a little lamb. I lay her down on the bench and begin tying her with thick hemp rope, crossing her torso so that she’s trussed ankara escort bayan in a way which leaves her nipples exposed, her arms behind her back and her legs pulled apart with a spacer dowel of shiny black plastic between her knees.

I take the clothespins from her nipples and pussy lips and again remove the blindfold.

I want her to suck my dick, but I’m afraid she’ll recognize it and realize who I am. I stroke her pussy until she begins to moan, her body betraying her mind at my stimulation. I take a small vibrator off the bench and begin working it across her cunt lips and around her clit, using my fingers to open her.

She tries to resist what her body is experiencing, her mind stretched as tight as the ropes which bind her. She comes close to an orgasm but I don’t let her reach a climax. I take her back and forth several times like this, and I can see that each time it frustrates her further. Her pussy is opening and closing like a little clam whenever she gets close to coming, the pink lips clenching and releasing without conscious volition.

I know the mescaline is a powerful sexual inebriant at the dosage I’ve given her, and that her desire to climax is almost unbearable for her. After an hour of this torment I allow her to have her orgasm, and when she does it’s so powerful that it reminds me of a dog shaking the water from its coat. The quivers turn to trembles which in turn give way to spasms which wrack her body from head to toe. I suck and nibble her nipples as she climaxes, her flat chest so arousing to me that I hope she never develops any further.

After she’s come I flip her onto her belly, knowing it’s got to be uncomfortable for her the way she’s bound by the chafing ropes. Ask me if I give a fuck. Now she’s facing the floor and can’t see me or my cock, which is hard as a fucking steel rail, as it has been since I first brought her into my dungeon.

I roughly open her snatch with my fingers, and then spit onto her twat to lube it up, although she’s still pretty wet from her orgasm. I drive my dick into her and piston her ferociously. She’s my fuck toy now, and while she’s under the effect of the hallucinogens I know her body will respond no matter where her mind takes her.

I grab her under her hips and lift her so her little ass is poking up at me as I continue to pound her snatch. I slow and enjoy seeing how stretched her cunt is around my big cock, and gaze lustfully at how her lips elongate as I pull back. In and out I go, playing with her butthole and spanking her ass once in awhile.

The girl loves to fuck and even though she’s been drugged and traumatized, she begins pushing against my thrusts, her back arched and her head pulled painfully upward by the handful of blonde hair I’m yanking. I pull out and shoot my wad across her ass, one pulse of spunk landing in the middle of her back. She comes at the same instant, her moans laden with despair as her mind trys to come to terms with what’s happening to her.

I leave her tied and face down and bring her another glass of clear liquid to drink. I push the straw into her mouth and pull her head back with another handful of hair.

“Drink or die!” I snarl, knowing she’s still tripping her ass off. She searches my face, seeing only the hideous mask and hood, trying to determine whether there’s any humanity to be found. She sips tentatively until I pull from a pocket a straight razor. I snarl again for her to comply, raising my hand threateningly. Vika drains the glass and I release her hair. She slumps back down, crying.

This drink contains a sedative that will knock her out for an hour or so, mixed with some vitamin B12, which will help restore her nervous system and bring her down from the mescaline. Before it takes effect I flip her over onto her back and rub the huge dildo arm all over her, making her cringe when I come close to her pussy with it.

I pretend I’m going to open her and try to fit it inside her, going as far as squirting baby oil all over it, causing it to glisten in the weird lighting of the room. I turn on some red spot lights which beam straight down on Vika, and flick the switch to the neon “No Hope” strobe.

Her eyes slowly close and soon she’s asleep. I gently slap her face a couple of times to make sure she’s completely out. I pull on one of her pussy lips and tweak her nipple, too. She’s out like a light.

I untie her and carry her into a bathroom. I give her a sponge bath and check her carefully for any chafe marks from the ropes and hand prints or bruises from my games with her. There’s not a mark on her thankfully. I brush her hair, careful to get it parted right down the center the way she normally wears it.

I take a dab of toothpaste and smear it on her teeth and put a bit on her tongue. She swallows reflexively, carrying the mint throughout her mouth, masking the residual taste of the drugs I’ve given her. I carry her to my bed and stretch her out on it, covering her with the sheet and light blanket.

I escort ankara race back to the dungeon, stripping off my robe and hood. I pull the black drapes off the walls, letting the sunlight pour in. The red bulbs are changed back to regular spots and the neon sign comes down. I remove the upright wood frame with the restraints and the torture bench, fitting them up into the attic with all the other paraphenalia from the room. In less than fifteen minutes it looks just like a regular unused bedroom once again, with no trace of the horrors to be seen.

I hop in the shower and take a long, hot soak, careful to remove the actor’s black around my eyes, the contact lenses and the phony tattoos. When I’m done I dry my hair and put on some shorts and a T shirt. I make a couple of fruit smoothies and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for when Vika wakes up. It should be any time now, my formula being precisely measured for a girl her size.

I sit at my computer and check out the video of our S&M session. It’s turned out great. My camera placements had proven to be spot on to capture the various expressions of fear and desperation on her beautiful face, despite the variances in lighting I had used. Using a split screen while I worked I was able to keep an eye on Vika through the camera mounted on the ceiling fan right over the bed.

She bolts upright shrieking for help, then looks around with a freaked out expression. The poor thing is trying to make sense of how she ended up back in my bed, the drugs I had given her scrambling the signals so completely that I feel confident I can convince her that she’s experienced a terrible nightmare. I close the video and open a document file to replace it.

I turn at her scream and jump over to the bed to console her. Her eyes are as big as saucers and she’s trembling like a leaf.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I say, feigning surprise to her reaction.

“How did I get here?” she cries. “Where’s that man?” her head jerking around looking for the monster who had kidnapped her. “Oh my God, he told me you were dead!” she sobs.

“Sweetheart,” I say softly trying to calm her. “You’ve been here all afternoon. You must have had a bad dream.” I stroke her hair and she hugs herself tightly to me.

“No!” she insists. “A horrible man came in and snatched me up while I was asleep and then threw me in the trunk of his car and drove me someplace else. He said he had killed you with a knife….” She begins crying inconsolably.

“He put me in this room… it was like a dungeon or something. There was this loud music and lights going on and off — one of them was a sign that said No Hope,” she whispered, almost in shock from the memory.

I kept my arms wrapped around her, making soothing sounds of comfort.

“He tied me to a wall. I didn’t have any clothes on. I couldn’t see his face because he wore a mask. He made me drink something. It just seemed to be water, but pretty soon I began seeing colors dripping and melting all around and hearing voices like people whispering about me.”

“Honey, don’t think about it. It was just a bad dream. I mean, here you are and here I am, too. You haven’t gone anywhere. We took a nap, and you woke up a little when I got up. You said you weren’t feeling very well, so I let you sleep all afternoon.”

I start to get up but she won’t let me.

“Come on, sweetie! Let’s go out to the kitchen. I’ve made some smoothies and sandwiches for us. Maybe if you eat something you’ll feel better.”

“Derek, he raped me!” she whimpered, looking down at the sheets. “He had me tied up and face down on this weird table. I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He fucked me real hard —- I can still feel it,” she said trying to convince me.

“Vika, you’ve been here all day,” I say more firmly now. “Lying right there sound asleep since about 11 o’clock. It’s about 4 now, so you’ve been out like a light for five hours.”

“No!” she insisted. “It happened. I can feel him touching me all over and doing things to me. I can still feel the ropes, goddammit!”

She pushes herself away from me and searched every inch of her body looking for a telltale sign to prove her story. She shakes her head in frustration and looks up at me.

“Derek, am I going crazy?” she asks. “It was more real than any dream I’ve ever had. It was more real than reality, if that makes any sense.”

“Darling, I don’t know what to tell you…” I sigh. “Dreams are funny things. The mind is the most powerful thing in the universe, at least as we know it. Sometimes weird things happen and parts of it start working that are normally shut down.”

I feel her forehead as if checking to see if she has a fever.

“I wish I knew what to tell you. Come on, let’s get something to eat and then we’ll go outside and maybe go for a swim if you want.”

“I think I want to go home, if that’s all right with you,” she asks timidly. “I need some time to try to figure out what’s happening to me. Can I come back over later on tonight? Maybe around 9 o’clock or so?”

“Sure, Vika. You can do whatever you want. I’ve got some errands to run anyway. Or stay home if that feels better to you,” I say in a dismissive tone.

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