Writing Exercise 10: In the Dungeon

[StillStunned]

Here we go, more homework another prompt for you all! Write a short excerpt from a story on the theme of "In the Dungeon". What kind of dungeon? You decide: the kind with leather-clad dominatrix, the kind with hooded gaolers, the kind with dragons - whatever you want! Or be adventurous, and combine all three...

We're not looking for complete stories, just snippets. You don't have to start at the beginning of a story. It could be a scene from the middle or the end too. Just make it enthralling and sexy!

As always, try to keep the word count down to about 350 words, and please observe Lit's usual rules for publication.

 

[StillStunned]

Here's mine:

===
The fungus stood by itself at the centre of the chamber. Twice as tall as an elf, Liella guessed, with a cap on top that made it look like an oversized cock. The slight sag added to the image.

“Never trust anything that’s cleared a space around itself,” murmured Krendel with his gravelly voice. “I say we sneak around the edges to the far side. I think I see an opening in the rock there.”

Carefully they crept from the tunnel into the chamber. It was high, they saw now, the ceiling glowing faintly from the lichen known as Adventurer’s Friend. Liella’s soft robes made no sound, and Krendel’s leather gear was worn supple.

Even so, they’d barely ventured half a dozen steps along the wall when the fungus suddenly stiffened. Energy seemed to pulse through it, swelling it and pointing it upright.

“Fuck!” Stealth was out of the window now. “Run!” She began to sprint for the far side of the cavern, where a black maw loomed with a promise of safety.

She heard Krendel’s boots pounding on the stone behind her, then suddenly the ranger gave a choked cry, and a gasp, and his footsteps fell silent.

Liella risked a glance over her shoulder, barely slowing her pace, running her mind over the spells at her disposal.

Long tentacles had caught Krendel and were lifting him high into the air. More were coming for Liella, and before she had a chance to ready her defences one had seized her by the waist. She screamed, and something spongy plunged into her mouth, stretching her jaw wide. It plunged in and out as she was dragged closer to the engorged cock-like fungus.

More tentacles grabbed at her, held her aloft with her arms and legs spread wide. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Krendel, struggling like she was, mouth stuffed like hers was, eyes filled with panic like she knew hers were...

 

[StillStunned]

Sooo... is this one Writing Exercise too far? Or is it just a slow Sunday? I expected people to be all over this one.

 

[SimonDoom]

Give it some time. I have too many things going on this morning to reply yet.

 

[Bamagan]

My mind immediately went to "You lucky, lucky bastard," and has not yet returned.

Right gaoler's pet you must be.

 

[Erozetta]

Sooo... is this one Writing Exercise too far? Or is it just a slow Sunday? I expected people to be all over this one.

I've been at work for the past 11 hours. Will post some for this tomorrow

 

[Tio_Narratore]

It was a dank and moldy cavern where suddenly a bullwhip cracked . . .

(Busy now; I'll try to be "serious" later).

 

[Bazzle]

Drip, drip, drip. It was like Chinese water torture from the leaking tap.

Could I reach it. No.

Watching the individual droplets of water splatter against the cold tile, a wave flowing slowly in every direction. Over and over again. It was the limit of my entertainment.

Oh to put my mouth under it. My throat and lips dry. It will be hours until I hear the jangle of the keys and the stomp of his large feet down the steps carrying the tray with a cold jam sandwich and a glass of water. Hours.

The anticipation of him will build. Drip, drip, drip. Stomp, stomp, stomp.

I will be ready and waiting.

I always am.

 

[shelleycat1]

I'll bite, from a work in progress. So far every nearly every time I enter one of these threads a story turns out eventually!

Connie had to get up in the night having drunk a bit. The flat was quiet and she paused by the second bedroom, the one fitted out as a dungeon. She couldn't hear anything. Robert had been asleep when she got up and wasn't stirring. On impulse she eased the door open. The hallway light showed the bed with the clone curled up on it, dressed and not covered. Connie saw eyes looking at her and heard a sniff and a sob. She hadn't thought of it as having feelings.

She thought of herself as a fair person. Also, Robert had been attentive to her and agreed to its disposal. "What's the matter?" She said quietly.

"You don't like me."

"You're a thing, property. I don't have to care." But she did now, she really knew. "Why do you care anyway? You'll just have a different owner."

"But you're the person I admire and love most in the world," a quiet voice came back. "I'm competent and bright and I thought we would work together and make Robert's life better. I thought that was what I was for. I was nervous meeting you because you're the original, I'm just the copy. You know things properly. I've got the memories but you really got married to Robert. You've really had that life. You really have a proper job. I'm not real, I accept that, but just being rejected as a thing hurt and it is also unfair. You accepted me and agreed that I could be made to help Robert. You thought that I would care for him if you were too busy. You thought that he would be happier, and that would make you happier. Then you just rejected me. I know what you were thinking, But, you have the veto and Robert agreed. I know that you are going to get rid of me. I don't know how, but that's what I think you would do."

"You're quite talkative when you get going, aren't you?"

"Same as you."

That was accurate. "I like to think I'm fair. We'll talk tomorrow." Connie returned to bed, shaken by the conversation.

 

[MrPixel]

Excerpted from a work not yet published.

=====

Oh, dear. I see Amber, Hannah and Cyan in a huddle whispering to each other.

Yep. There they go. All three have grabbed Phil and are more or less dragging him into the dungeon against his feigned resistance. I excuse myself from the hot tub momentarily to glance around the corner to check on what they're up to.

Uh huh. They have strapped Phil's wrists to the suspension bar and Amber has the winch control in her hand. She grins when she notices my peering around the archway, mercifully stopping the lift so Phil's feet remain flat on the floor. I smirk and shake my head, laughing inside from the knowledge that my presence discouraged her original intent of "tippie toe". Shame on her!

With Phil already blindfolded, Cyan has a feather at the ready, and Hannah has the #2 crop poised to strike his privates.

I disappear from view just before hearing the "FUCK! Dammit! I know that was you, Hannah!"

You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Fred. Uh... Phil. I'm all grins on returning to the tub.

"We heard that, Steven!" Jess exclaims. "What are they doing to Phil?"

"Oh, they have him strung-up on the winch. Feather and a light crop."

"They aren't hurting him, are they?"

"Not if the angle of his erection is any indication. He's lovin' it."

Cheyenne comments, "I didn't think he liked that stuff. That was your thing, mostly."

"Quick learner. And waddaya mean, 'my thing', huh? You and Ally."

Hmm. I feel an unexpected but familiar hand caressing my butt and thighs. It's Cyan.

"Hi, sweetheart. Where'd you leave it with Phil?"

"Oh, I dunno," she chuckles.

"Yes you do."

"I shouldn't tell you this... you might get soft. Hi, Cheyenne," she chuckles again.

This garners a "what you talkin' about?" scowl from Cheyenne.

"Okay," I respond. "I think I can take whatever you got. Spill."

"Well, for one thing, after you left, Amber quickly strapped his ankles to the floor brackets."

"Spread-eagle, then. So? I don't see a problem there."

"Hannah tied his nuts to the wall winch behind him. She was still crankin' on it when I left."

=====

 

[Rob_Royale]

"Jake?" Kayla called out. Her voice sounded flat. She could feel the soft flaps over her ears as well as her eyes. She couldn't see anything and her hearing was impaired.

She'd been shaking like a leaf as he led her in by the leash on her collar, with her hands bound behind her back.
He'd helped her onto the spanking bench and affixed her cuffs to the D-rings on the padded boards. He kissed her behind her ear and patted her ass gently as she knelt before him on the apparatus. "Jake?"

She had no way to measure time, but it seemed like he'd been gone quite a while. She'd been surprised when he told her he had to step out for a few minutes, "to get things ready". She wondered now what he needed to get ready after all. All the toys were already in the "sex dungeon" that her very handy husband Jake has constructed in their finished basement.

She had been hesitant at first but after some minor restraining and spanking had brought her so much pleasure, she'd happily agreed to the DIY project. Maybe she'd been a little hasty, she thought now.

She felt a breeze and a pressure change as the door behind her opened. "Jake. Where have you been? Let me up, I'm tired of this now."

She felt a hand caress her left butt cheek and trail down over her pussy. She sighed. Now this was more like it.

"What a fine, fine ass that is." a strange voice asked behind her. Her whole body, locked up in shock and her back arched as she tried to turn despite her bindings. "Who's there?! Who are you!? How did you get in here!?"

The deep voice was subdued by her ear coverings but she could hear him well enough. "Who am I? I'm the handsome man that you admired in the line at the grocery store. The young intern you fantasied about at work. The rugged looking cop you watched direct traffic this morning."

A hard slap struck her left buttock, with a sound that must have been loud in the room and her body flinched on the table. Layla moaned in response. She couldn't help it. A second slap struck her right and she screamed, in both alarm and arousal.

She felt a finger slide through her inner labia and over her opening. "You're pussy is already getting wet. I can't wait to fuck it."

She squirmed hard. "No wait! Jake and I talked about including others, but we're not there yet. We're not there yet!" She yelled.

Jake smiled down at his wife as he struck another key on his laptop. "Are you sure?" the deep male voice asked.

He watched a shudder roll through his wife's beautiful body. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

He shut off the audio program and closed the laptop. He leaned over her body pushing his hard cock against her hot skin. He lifted the flap and whispered in her ear. "That's my good girl."

She sighed loudly and she relaxed on the spanking table. "Oh, Jake." At that moment he lined the head of his cock up to her opening, and paused for just an anticipatory moment. "That's my good girl."

 

[PapaRomantic]

He was the love of my life. I was the luckiest woman in the world when we got married 25 years ago. Together we raised two wonderful children, each of whom have graduated from college and are working in their chosen careers.

He was loving. He was kind. He was considerate. He doted on me, perhaps too much at times. He could fix anything. He was a good provider, and as we transitioned into our empty nest years, we had taken the next steps to have some fun for just ourselves.

Life was perfect…except for one thing. We were on polar opposites when it came to our sexual appetites. Don’t get me wrong – he could missionary fuck like nobody’s business, but it stopped there. He apparently thought that was the only way married people should have sex.

We discussed it – and he agreed to try some new things. I was completely shocked when I told him that a couple of my friends had been exploring the BDSM lifestyle, and every time they shared their experiences with me, I knew I wanted to try it, and he agreed we could explore it.

My friends directed me to a club that had a basement dungeon. I was afraid once he saw it, he would be upset, but we arrived and were led downstairs. It was dark – no paint on the walls, just plain concrete blocks. There were all kinds of pieces of strange furniture, many with handcuffs attached. I didn’t have any idea what they were for, but my body was telling me I needed to learn more.

Could my husband understand what this was and be able to help me explore this? He didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body. But maybe if he saw how much I needed this.

I turned to him and smiled. “What do you think, honey?

He thought for a second, and then replied, “With some paint and more light fixtures, this basement wouldn’t be so dark and unattractive!”

I hung my head and wept…

 

[rob_bicurious]

"Where it's dark as a dungeon
and damp as the dew
where the dangers are double
and the pleasures are few...."

Sally held the cage with the canary high. The "cheep cheep" song of the little bird didn't do much to cheer her.

"At least we can breathe for a few more hours," she thought to herself.

It was Mark's idea to go exploring in the old mine and the canary was her inspired contribution. A better inspiration might have been to just say no, but here they were, deep in the mine and not sure which turning they needed to take to return to earth, air and sunshine.

Mark stood by the three shaft entrances and contemplated the choices. He had tried to make only left turns coming in, so they could make right turns to come back, but the three tunnels did not seem to fit that pattern.

"If we take the wrong one, we might end up deeper. I think we should stay here and hope Mom and Dad miss us and start a search party." Mark plopped himself on the dirty floor and pointed with the dimming flashlight for Sally to join him. "I’m sorry, Sis, we probably should have waited for the guide to see the old silver mine tomorrow, instead of me showing you for your 18th birthday present."

 

[mrs_mackenzie]

“You are in a tavern in a small town-”

“Oh, come on. Really? The cliché?”

The dungeon master looked at Dorgar the Merciful (Cleric). “Well, where else do you suggest four mercenary adventurers meet? A tea party?”

Grundyk the Mighty (Barbarian) looked at Dorgar. “He’s right, dude. It’s a classic for a reason.”

“I think I agree with Dorgar.” This was the voice of Princess Tiriana (Druid). “Why would a druid princess be in a tavern?”

“Uh, looking for adventure? And a handsome warlock?” said Umling Firecaster (Warlock).

“Okay, okay. You’re in a dungeon beneath a castle-”

“Starting in a dungeon? How did we get there?” Grundyk cut in.

“Quiet down, Grundyk, let me finish.”

Everyone fell silent and listened.

“You’re in a dungeon beneath a castle. Tied to the wall by fearsomely thick, unbreakable chains, is Grundyk the Mighty.”

“Someone must have realised I’m a major threat to their wellbeing.”

“Strapped to a table by ropes, so tightly wound from fibre that they feel as strong as steel, unable to move even a finger, is Umling Firecaster.”

“Can I still cast spells using my mind?”

“No. And thirdly, manacles bolted to his wrists and hanging from the ceiling, is Dorgar the Merciful.”

“How far off the ground am I?”

“Two feet.”

“And where am I?” Princess Tiriana asked.

The dungeon master grinned. “Descending the steps to the dungeon is Princess Tiriana, surveying the scene. Princess, let me know what you wish to do next.”

Everyone all looked at Tiriana, whose grin was somehow wider and more unsettling than the dungeon master’s.

“Well, hello boys,” she said, idly spinning a D20 on the table in front of her. “What have we here?”

“Free us, Princess!” Umling begged.

“When I’m good and ready. First… I think I’ll use Wild Shape.”

“What animal do you become?” the dungeon master asked, consulting his notes, not betraying a flicker of emotion.

She giggled, which was the most sinister sound any of the players thought they’d ever heard.

“Giant octopus. These tough adventurers need a lesson in what it’s like to be damsels in distress.”

 

[SimonDoom]

Anders stood atop a low, grassy hill, covered in flowers. The scene was the same in every direction, for as far as the eye could see--a scene of unimaginable beauty. The air was fragrant and warm. The calls of many birds sounded in the distance. Paradise.

Low shrubs dotted the landscape here and there. Anders walked to one of them. He couldn't think of anything else to do.

As he approached the bush, it rustled. A thrush emerged from it and perched atop the highest branch. Then another emerged, and another. One of the birds stared at him.

Anders shivered. He hated birds. He had had a morbid fear of them for as long as he could remember.

"No, no," he said, desperation in his voice.

He turned and ran. The calls of birds sounded all around, enveloping him. He gagged.

He came to another bush. More birds.

"Please, no," he cried.

The air shimmered and the scene dimmed, and Anders was in his gray-walled cell again, a thousand feet underground, strapped to a chair. He sobbed with relief.

Monson stood over him, smiling, his thumb on the button of the control unit.

"Are you ready to tell us now?" he asked.

Anders shook his head.

"No, I can't," he said.

"OK, then," Monson said. "Back to the meadow. The meadow . . . and the birds."

"Not the birds!" Anders screamed.

The lights changed again, and Anders was back in the meadow. The birds were louder and closer than ever.

 

[StillStunned]

There are some twisted minds here...

 

[SimonDoom]

Bazzle stared ahead at the gray walls of his underground cell, strapped to his chair, trying to ignore Monson and his other jailer, Saunders. But it was impossible. They both carried unlit cigarettes in their hands.

Bazzle licked his lips.

Monson ran one of the cigarettes under Bazzle's nose. That sweet fragrance of tobacco. His body quivered.

"The very finest tobacco, my friend," Monson said. "Isn't that delicious? We rolled this cigarette especially for you. It can be yours. Just tell us what we want to know."

"You know I can't do that," Bazzle said.

"Perhaps not now," Monson said with a cruel smile. "But you will. Saunders?"

Saunders produced a lighter from his pocket, and he lit Monson's cigarette and his own.

Monson puffed and said, "Oh, that's good."

He held the burning cigarette out and close to Bazzle's face.

"Just give us the information, and it's all yours, Bazzle."

Bazzle tried to turn his head and stop breathing, but it was no use. The sweet, intoxicating scent teased and tortured him.

He had to hold out. His country's future depended on it.

"No, I can't," he said. "I can't."

But his voice grew weaker every time he said it.

 

[Bazzle]

Bazzle stared ahead at the gray walls of his underground cell, strapped to his chair, trying to ignore Monson and his other jailer, Saunders. But it was impossible. They both carried unlit cigarettes in their hands.

Bazzle licked his lips.

Monson ran one of the cigarettes under Bazzle's nose. That sweet fragrance of tobacco. His body quivered.

"The very finest tobacco, my friend," Monson said. "Isn't that delicious? We rolled this cigarette especially for you. It can be yours. Just tell us what we want to know."

"You know I can't do that," Bazzle said.

"Perhaps not now," Monson said with a cruel smile. "But you will. Saunders?"

Saunders produced a lighter from his pocket, and he lit Monson's cigarette and his own.

Monson puffed and said, "Oh, that's good."

He held the burning cigarette out and close to Bazzle's face.

"Just give us the information, and it's all yours, Bazzle."

Bazzle tried to turn his head and stop breathing, but it was no use. The sweet, intoxicating scent teased and tortured him.

He had to hold out. His country's future depended on it.

"No, I can't," he said. "I can't."

But his voice grew weaker every time he said it.

Ouch...but wonderful!

 

[TarnishedPenny]

From a work in progress. The MFC has been introduced as a powerful mage.


“You will address me as ‘Mistress’,” she said.

The two men looked at her almost dully, the effects of the drug still lingering in their bodies. Standing against the wall, chains held their arms extended above them and their legs spread wide. The room was dim, but warm enough – hardly the sort of dank dungeon the factor’s wife had feared.

“You will address me as ‘Mistress’. Do you understand?”

One mumbled an acknowledgement; the other, groggier, merely nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Good.”

There was a smile on her face, but only a fool would have been reassured.

She twirled a finger above her head and the room grew brighter. Stepping to the first, she ran her hand over one shoulder, down along his chest to clasp his low-hanging sac. The boy raised his head, looked at her. Brenda laughed as his dangling penis grew harder, its head rising to point towards the ceiling.

“Very good!” she said, stroking its length gently. It twitched, almost glowed as her slowly-moving fingertip left a line of tingling fire along its underside.

Smiling, she stepped to the second tethered figure, this one rather more alert.

“And what of you?” she said softly. The man’s blue eyes locked on hers, but he said nothing. She grasped one of his nipples in each hand, began to tease them, pulling, stroking, twisting.

Her laughter filled the room as he almost immediately became erect. Continuing to play with one nipple with one hand, she seized his shaft, slowly pumping velvet skin back and forth over heavy oaken core.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he whispered. Her laughter became delighted. She released him, stepped back.

“I think we’re going to have a real adventure here,” she said. Raising one hand over her head, she snapped her fingers. At once, the room grew dimmer. More importantly for the two men, their shackles somehow loosened so that they could now sit, albeit with their arms still held above their heads.

“I will see you two tomorrow,” she said as she left, leaving the two sitting on the floor, each with a brick-hard, brick-red erection about which he could do nothing.

 

[onehitwanda]

In the dungeon, the deepest dungeon, the Lion sleeps tonight.

 

[StillStunned]

In the dungeon, the deepest dungeon, the Lion sleeps tonight.

Makes about as much sense as a lion in a jungle, I suppose.

Actually, I can just imagine it. "Look, the door's open. You want to go out? There, go! I'm not opening this door again, you damn cat."

 

[yowser]

Back to cataleptic jokes...

 

[StillStunned]

Back to cataleptic jokes...

I'd be lion if I said I didn't enjoy a bit of silliness.

 

[SimonDoom]

In the dungeon, the deepest dungeon, the Lion sleeps tonight.

"Jailer, there's a lion in my dungeon cell!"

"So there is," said the jailer, laughing at his pretty prisoner. "He sleeps. For now. Soon he will wake, and he will be hungry."

"Please let me out!" she cried.

"As soon as you tell us what we want to know," he said, an evil grin on his face.

"I can't do that!"

"Well, then, I guess we wait until the lion awakes. Until then, I have only one thing to say to you."

"What's that?"

The jailer pressed his ugly visage against the bars of the dungeon cell.

"Ah weem a weh," he said.

 

[StillStunned]

And the prize for today's most twisted mind goes to... SimonDoom!