Note: this is a re-edited story from 2014.
Dottie awakened with no knowledge of how she’d gotten there. All she knew was that she was in a cold metal room and she was completely naked.
Her arms were stretched above her head as she looked up at her situation. Her wrists were attached to some sort of chain that came down from the ceiling. She couldn’t understand why they were keeping her like this.
Down below, she saw that her feet were chained as well. Someone wanted her chained, naked and helpless in here. Dottie felt a shiver of dread ripple through her body. What was going to happen to her??
“Please; you’ve got to help me,” she called out. But the person inside appeared unsympathetic. Couldn’t they even hear her??
She watched in alarm as he strapped a big canister upon his back, one he had brought in with him. She didn’t know why, but she strongly suspected it was a male underneath that outfit. To her utter horror he lifted up the end of a metal pole and pointed it right at her.
“No; WAIT!” she cried out, sensing something very bad was about to happen. A moment later fire lashed out from the end of the metal rod toward her. Dottie shrieked in terror as it blasted against her chest.
She screamed in agony as her body was engulfed by the flames. For a moment the flamethrower was turned off as though he wanted to see the results of his efforts. But he needn’t have worried. Her body was completely engulfed, burning from the petrol he had covered her with.
She tried to scream but couldn’t get any air through her vocal chords. She struggled against her bonds, but she couldn’t get free. The chains kept her in place as fire hungrily consumed her naked flesh until he turned off the flamethrower. It was no longer necessary since her body continued to burn hotly from the addition of the petrol.
Dottie writhed and squirmed but there was no escape. She tried to scream, only to breathe in the flames. Fire rushed down her throat, searing her lungs. She could actually feel her flesh melting off her bones.
She pulled against the chains above that bound her hands toward the ceiling. It proved to be a futile gesture. The metal burned into her wrists from the excessive heat as the flames hungrily devoured her outstretched arms.
Dottie slumped as her murderer watched dispassionately. Her body writhed in agony as though she had been dipped into the very fires of hell itself. She did not see the look in his eyes, nor did she ever discover the reason for his burning her.
Dottie awakened to the sound of her screaming in orgasm. Somehow she had rolled out of bed onto the floor and was writhing around as if she was literally on fire. She was cumming so hard she could hardly think straight.
She panted heavily as she tried to get her breath back. She felt dazed and weak all over. “Bloody hell!” she blurted out. “I have GOT to stop watching those movies with those burning scenes before bedtime.” Then she groggily made her way to her feet before stumbling into the bathroom to clean herself up…
2014; 2018 (written for and inspired by Dottie Jun 28 ’14; ed. Nov 20 ‘18 by riwa)
(Inspired by a scene from the movie “Don’t Go In The House (1980). Vidcaps are from said movie and are used for illustration purposes only.)