[Fiction] The Dungeon of Dark Desires

[shynessincarnate]

Foreword​

This story is written in the second person with a character who possesses a vagina as their primary sexual organ. If the story works well and there is interest in there being a version with a character possessing a penis, I'll be more than happy to write that version.​

The format of this story is along the lines of a "Choose your destiny" book with the exception that I will be writing it as I go along according to user votes. I plan on writing one part/chapter per week. But please understand that it may not always be possible for me to do so. I am rather perfectionist and prefer to take two weeks to write a part and be satisfied with it rather than rush the writing and be dissatisfied.​

The introduction is longish so I decided on writing it in a few parts. No choices will be made available to you during the introduction because I need to set up the rest of the story with it. Be patient, though, you'll be able to vote soon enough.

General comments, constructive criticism and predictions (or justification for the choice you made) are welcome and encouraged; I love interacting with my readers!

And now, without further ado, let's get this story going!

[shynessincarnate]

You wake up shivering, your naked body laying against the unforgiving coldness of the rough stone floor. You could open your eyes, but decide against it. It's not like it would change anything in the dark windowless cell you're in anyways. This prison in which you are being held captive is a timeless place. Your only solace is knowing that there are others with you, presumably each in their own cell. The moans, screams and sobs used to keep you awake, but they have since become a comforting background noise, one keeping you safely tethered to reality.​

Yours used to be one of the voices, but not anymore. You stopped trying to garner the sympathy of your captors months ago – or was it days? - it's so hard to tell in this place. Still lying on the floor, you stretch out your limbs before flipping onto your belly and propping yourself on all fours to make your way to one of the corners of the room. It's no use standing up, the ceiling is so low that a squat is about the only headroom that is given. There, you find the hole in the floor, about a foot in diameter and carefully release the waste from your bladder and bowels.​

Hands against the wall, you scoot to the side. Three awkward waddles to the right and you find the straw to insert into the hole of your ball gag. A few gulps of the foul-tasting but nourishing mixture is enough to calm the quiet grumbling of your stomach.​

And then, you wait.​

As you doze off, your mind takes you back to the night of the culling. On that fateful evening, hundreds of thousands of "unpure" woman such as yourself were awoken with a flashlight in the eyes by two armed men who were tasked with bringing you into custody. Your crime: being an unmarried deflowered woman. Tears fill your eyes with the memory of the injustice of the situation and a single tear rolls down your cheek before you regain your composure.​

Suddenly, the room is flodded with light. Quickly, you cover your eyes to protect them from blinding luminosity. You feel someone gripping your hair, pulling you outside of your cell. In a blur, you manage to make out three pairs of feet before you are unceremoniously slammed into the ground face first, arms and legs spread out and pinned down with a booted foot over your wrists and ankles. You hear a squeaking sound and open your eyes in fear, but calm down when you realize it is just a wheelchair. The boots are replaced by a firm grip underneath each armpit and you are hoisted upright like a ragdoll before being placed onto the seat of the chair. A muffled scream of pain and surprise escapes your throat. As you look down, you realize in horror that the entire chair is covered in what seems to be upturned upholstery nails.​

A laugh erupts from the man behind you.​

"If you liked that, sweetie, just wait to see what else is in store for you".