The Basement Game

Emily stepped into the dimly lit basement storage room and shut the door behind her. The young student couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face.

“I’m here, just like you told me,” she whispered.

A soft click echoed through the space, and a light flickered on. In the center of the room, a table emerged, illuminated by a single bulb hanging directly above it. As Emily’s eyes adjusted, she noticed something resting on the table.

On the square tabletop sat a wooden ruler and three pairs of metal handcuffs.

“Take off your panties!” a voice commanded from the shadows.

Emily hesitated, then slowly slid her panties down, letting them drop to the floor.

Now she stood in nothing but a thin sweater, a short plaid skirt, and ankle boots, surrounded by the darkness.

“Step up to the table so I can see you!”

Emily moved forward cautiously, her gaze fixed on the ruler and handcuffs. She was barely 18, petite, and visibly nervous. Her auburn hair was cut into a neat bob with bangs, the rest falling straight past her shoulders. Her pale, flawless skin glowed faintly under the light, contrasting with her dark hair.

To top it off, she wore chunky black-framed glasses that only made her look more striking. Her breath quickened, her excitement barely concealed despite the chilly air.

“Bend over the table!”

Emily leaned forward, the table high enough that she could rest her upper body on it without spreading her legs or crouching. Footsteps approached from behind. She started to turn her head to see who it was.

“Don’t you dare, you little brat!” the voice snapped.

“Eyes forward!”

Emily obeyed.

She heard the clink of metal as someone picked up the handcuffs. Moments later, cold steel encircled her ankles, locking them in place. Her slim legs trembled slightly. She bit her lip to stifle a sound, her pulse racing.

Then her left wrist was seized and cuffed to the front left table leg, stretching her arm across the surface. The same happened to her right wrist on the opposite side.

Emily was completely helpless now – and it thrilled her. Just weeks ago, she’d never have imagined this kind of humiliation could feel so intoxicating.

A hand trailed slowly up her right leg from below. Emily let out a soft moan, struggling to hide how much she enjoyed it.

A second hand joined, sliding up her left thigh. Both hands caressed her firm cheeks, squeezing and kneading them. Her skirt was pushed up, revealing a perfect, pale backside. The hands pulled away.

The overhead light now shone down on a bound girl with her skirt hiked up, exposed and vulnerable.

Emily heard the ruler being lifted from the table.

“Have you thought about getting laid today?” the voice asked.

“No, of course not!” Emily blurted out.

“Then why are you dripping wet?”

A sharp whistle cut the air, followed by a loud smack as the ruler struck her bare skin.

“Ahhh!” she cried out, wincing from the sting.

“Don’t lie to me, you little tease!” the voice shouted.

“Okay, okay, I’ve been thinking about it all day,” Emily admitted, her voice shaky.

“Thinking about what, exactly?”

“About a guy taking me hard,” she said, her words trembling with a mix of pain and arousal. She shifted slightly, her excitement pooling beneath her.

“Did you touch yourself?”

“No, I didn’t—” Another whistle, another smack.

“Ahhh!” she yelped. Red welts began to bloom across her skin.

“Did you touch yourself?” the voice repeated.

“Yes, I rubbed myself,” Emily confessed, her tone hesitant.

“Do you want to be taken right now?”

“No, not here—” she started, but another strike interrupted her with a sharp cry.

“Ahhh! Ohhh!”

“Let’s try that again – do you want it now?” the voice asked calmly.

“Yes, please, I want it now,” she whimpered. Her body ached for release, desperate for something to fill her.

The ruler was set down beside her head. Then she felt a hand brushing over her stinging cheeks.

She arched her back as much as she could, craving more of the touch.

Something pressed against her, seeking entry. Emily clenched her teeth, but the wave of pleasure hit her hard. She screamed as she came, her body shuddering against the restraints.

It slid inside her slowly, and she felt like she might burst from the sensation. When it was fully in, it began to move – back and forth, deliberate and steady. Another climax built quickly.

Her legs gave out, leaving her draped over the table, held up only by her bound wrists. The overwhelming release had stripped her of control. But it didn’t stop – it went faster, harder. Over the next few minutes, she came five more times, each one leaving her more spent than the last. Her cries echoed through the basement.

“Enough, please… I can’t take it anymore,” Emily gasped, her voice barely audible.

It stopped. The pressure withdrew, and one final tremor shook her exhausted frame.

Someone unfastened her ankle cuffs, then her wrists. Emily slumped against the table, too weak to move.

Her eyes stayed shut, her face slick with sweat, pressed against the wood. After a moment, she mustered the strength to push herself up, blinking as she steadied herself on the table.