The Dark Room Chronicles: Mirror

I stand erect before the mirror; I have no other choice. Small hidden bulbs emit a pool of light that surrounds me and reflects my image back into my expectant eyes. Beyond, darkness and silence press outwards.

I know it to be a large room; I have been here many times before always waiting patiently for it to be my turn in the limelight. I have reclined on chaise longues immersed in the entertainment before me, unfamiliar hands caressing my body and aching for the night when I am pulled from the chattering throng to stand alone bathed in light.

I still wear my mask, the pretty peacock feathers tickling at my outstretched arms, but my shimmering silken dress lies crumpled alongside my Manolo Blahnik shoes somewhere in the dark beyond. Instead my feet have been strapped into a pair of ballet booties fixed to the floor and my arms laced into gauntlets and pulled far above my head.

Now I wait; star spread, balanced on tiptoe, the muscles of my calves and thighs aching, my arms stretched unnaturally high and wide; my limbs fixed. The only movement possible a slight turn of the head or a gentle swaying back and forth of my torso.

The entertainment awaits her audience.

I like my body powdered; a fine coating to take the sheen off my skin and creates that pallid tone that is so fashionable, that screams of the languid idleness of wealth and the placidness of inner beauty but now, beneath the hot lights, I can feel moisture beading on my skin.

I inspect myself in the mirror; there really is nothing else I can do. My body glows, tiny droplets of sweat collect in my plucked and tailored eyebrows and hang heavy on my upper lip. My breasts shimmer as they heave; rivulets cutting through the powder to trickle down my abdomen in dark smears.

I look so common; just another body forced to toil beneath the baking lights.

I feel delectably debased.

My body twitches as I release a soft moan, close my eyes and revel in the joyous dampness that trickles down to coat my inner thighs.

Time seeps by; the ache of my taut limbs more intense with every passing second, salted sweat springing forth from my every pore to drench my skin, the little quivers of sensation that rippled through my pubis rising in a series of minor crescendos, each more assertive than the last and leaving me panting delightfully.

Muted sounds break the silence; the shuffle of feet, the scrape of furniture, the soft resonance of whispered conversation. My chest throbs with pride. They have come. I am worthy. I will be their entertainment. Their eyes will consume my body, shaking before them, bathed, glistening and quivering in orgasmic pleasure as they find each other in the darkness, as mouths swallow throbbing cocks, as fingers flick their way across swollen clitoral nubs, as nipples are sucked, pussys licked, and as phalluses are buried between soaking wet labia all eyes will be on me.

A hush descends, the air weighted with expectation, the only sound the tiny panting mews of need that climb my throat and dribble from my parted lips to cloud the image before me.

He steps from the darkness; thickset thighs, muscular arms, workout enhanced chest and abdomen partially coated in thick dark hair. His face is covered in a demon mask which glares angrily red with bulging blood veined eyes, yellowed teeth and devilish horns. His cock is encased in a codpiece curved like a rhino horn, its tip bulbous and red, it’s surface bumped, gnarled and adorned with crude images of copulating couples.

I lose sight of him as he steps behind me and slides his cold, hard member between my helplessly parted thighs. Its rigidity abrades its way between my dripping labia and across my soaked clitoris. His fingers reach around my swaying torso, squeeze my breasts and capture my erect nipples between his sharpened claws.

I can see his blood red tip protruding invitingly before my pubis. I slide myself forward soaking him as I go, trying to avail myself, eager to have him plunder my wanton depths and release my inner demon. He growls angrily; grabs my stomach and heaves backwards, sweat spraying from my body to splatter the mirrored glass.

Claws rip across my skin and I convulse beneath their demands. My eyes fixated by the beauteous image of my pampered and soiled body reflected back in the glass. What was once studied sophistication is now gloriously panting, shaking with need and desire, peacock feathers quivering against my skin, breasts rippling, tendons screaming in agony at the cruelness of their stretched captivity.

I feel the sharp metal points of his manmade claws dig into my buttocks, pulling the flesh aside to expose the mocha star of my anus and the slimy, pouting wetness of my vagina. I rock backwards in my bonds; pushing myself onto him, asserting my availability, pleading for penetration. His cold codpiece encased phallus ekes its way across my quivering clitoris until finally it comes to rest teasingly at the entrance to my sex, his hard bulbous cockhead parting my swollen lips.

His demon face appears at my shoulder; red tongue extended to lap at the sweat that coats my cheek. Clawed fingers traverse my body leaving brilliant red welts to give testament to their progress as they criss-cross my stomach before sinking painfully into the soft flesh of my breasts.

My body arches at the agony; my head thrown back, eyesight travelling upwards to blind itself in the intense heat of the spotlights. Watchers hidden in darkness absorb every sweating, quivering inch of my needy flesh awaiting the moment; awaiting the demon sacrifice.

His cock slams into me; droplets of moisture spray from my body to sparkle in the light, my mouth hangs wide in a silent scream. His inhuman rigidity abrades me as it plunders my depths. His bulbous cockhead pushes into my cervical opening; the hard bumps of his length tears at the soft inner walls of my pussy and my stomach tenses with delight at his attentions.

What perfect entertainment I am. How I wish I was sat in the audience absorbed by every thrust of his unforgiving phallus into my orgasming pussy. How I would love to watch it slide out coated in the dampness of my pleasure before returning to spread the swollen wetness of my labia once more. How I would admire the damp tendrils of hair sticking to the glowing wetness of my skin and marvel at the moisture spraying from my body to bespatter the clean glass. How I would glory as his demon cock lanced its way repeatedly into my helpless hanging body.

Oh look how I bite my lip; how my face burns fiercely and the eyes behind the mask appear glazed and sightless. How wonderfully my extended legs shake and buckle with every thrust of his cock. Watch as I sway backwards desperate to keep him inside me and how I twitch excitedly as he buries himself to the hilt once more. See the tension in my shoulders; adore the quivering of my stomach as the orgasms rise beneath the skin before crashing down to engulf his unfeeling member. Watch as the ejaculant squirts uncontrollably from my pussy to splash his glistening cock and dribble down my already soaked thighs.

My moaning panting mouth falls open; the hinges of my jaw broken. His thrusts have become a blur, a never ending piston of unforgiving rigidity driving poor shaking me to oblivion and beyond. Human no more; a mere marionette hanging lifeless, manipulated by the unseeing hands of my own desires. A virgin sacrifice fixed and trembling, penetrated and pummelled, skin burning, stomach tied in knots, orgasms crashing through my entirety, heart and lungs trapped in a giant hand that squeezes and squeezes and squeezes.

Sensation erupts; my eyes blinded by the explosion of light crashing through my brain. A scream rips from my mouth and assails my ears and my body convulses spastically one final time in its delicious bondage as darkness consumes me.