DESPAIR . . .

 

 

 

Hope of ever being free again has faded. I've lost every battle and in return, am moved to someplace even worse . . . at least at this point I've hit bottom . . . there is no place worse then this . . .

 

The Pit is mainly black and red, due partly due to the dim lighting, but I feel more so from the fresh blood dripping down the walls. Where is it even all coming from? Am I going to be used as the blood to drip down the walls of someone else's Pit of Despair?

 

Looking up, there's one small bit of light shining on my face from above . . . the only warmth I'm feeling . . . everything else is so cold, I'm shivering uncontrollably and can't get my body to stop . . .

 

Control of my body is a thing of the past. I miss the comfort of the ropes or leather straps that they used before. The hardness of the thin metal shackles couldn't be more painful as they hold me helplessly standing . . . waiting . . .

 

I miss being tied to a chair, a bed, hell hogtied on the hard floor . . . anything but this! Go back to Spanking me, Flogging me, Torturing me and threatening me . . . anything but this!

 

Even the Handlers showed some concern for me and went as far as to question the "Mistress of Horror Hotel", as she wants to be called. "Mistress, are you sure she deserves The Pit?" To which she replied with a simple, "To Hell with that Bitch!"

 

Seems I'm not one of her favorite Actors, aka Captives at the Hyper-Realistic Horror Hotel. From what I understand, The Pit is normally reserved for extreme cases only . . .

 

Like when a Cast Member gets the best of the Mistress. That moment of success or revenge may have made me proud for a few minutes . . . but it earned me nothing but Extreme Pain and Discomfort ever since . . . still, was worth it!

 

As far as being bound helpless is concerned, you'd believe the more bondage added to your body, the more painful or uncomfortable it can be . . . not true! The weight of my body being supported by only my outstretched shackled wrist makes me feel like the bones in my wrists are slowly breaking!

 

My shoulders are sore as hell and my calves are killing me! The Handlers detailed for me the Long and Drawn out Story . . . effectively Torturing my Mind along with my Body . . . about the Celtic Cross of the Roman Sun God of Invictus . . . the Sun Cross from the Middle Ages . . .

 

. . . How a Plain Jane like me from the Monastery should feel honored to be bound to it and Sacrificed to Invictus. My screams of "What the Fuck are you talking about? I'm not from some Fucking Monastery! It's not the Middle Ages! I was hired to play a Fucking Part here, just like you two needle dicks!" went ignored . . .

 

My well timed and well placed kick got the one telling the Long Story to Shut the Fuck Up! He couldn't continue with his Bullshit, much less catch his breath, as he left The Pit through the very solid metal door.

 

The second Handler was much more careful approaching me. He moved in from the side, climbing up onto the platform that elevated me a few feet off the concrete floor. Pushing his body against mine . . . I could feel how much he was enjoying his job . . .

 

One arm forcefully around my waist, pulling me even tighter against his swollen pants. His free hand lifting the front of my dirt covered dress and grabbing firmly onto my panty covered pussy!

 

With my head pushed hard against the Cross, he forces the most disgusting open mouth, hot pepper burrito flavored French kiss on me! Afterwards I spit out several rancid chunks of shredded beef as he mumbled, "I'll miss you the most . . ."