The Airbnb Hostess (story part 2)

View part 1 here.

The cold, hard wood dloor of Lien's house pressed into Nick's knees and elbows as he scrambled clumsily behind her. Each room they passed through felt like an endless maze, with Nick having no sense of direction due to the oppressive latex mask. But soon, there was a change. The smooth wood gave way to a soft yet uneven surface.

Nick felt a momentary confusion before it hit him: they were outside. The controlled chill of the air-conditioned house had been replaced by a sweltering heat that bore down on him. The ground beneath him felt cool, a sharp contrast to the sun's intensity. Blades of grass, some wet with morning dew, pricked at his skin. The sounds of the house – the subtle hum of electronics, the gentle white noise of air circulation – faded, giving way to distant chirps of birds and the rustling of trees.

Despite the intense discomfort of his position, and the fear of what was to come, there was a part of Nick that almost felt relieved to be outside again, to feel the natural world, even in this degraded state.

But any solace he might have taken from the change of environment was short-lived. Lien's pace quickened, her feet crunching against gravel and dirt, forcing Nick to scramble even faster to keep up with her relentless tugs.

Suddenly, the relentless march halted. "We're here," Lien said, her voice dripping with anticipation. She allowed Nick a brief moment of stillness, just long enough for him to catch a few desperate breaths. He tried to fathom their location from the limited sensory cues available to him, but before he could piece anything together, Lien spoke again.

"This is where you'll be staying," she announced, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Your new home, the shed."  

Nick's heart pounded. The short-lived relief vanished instantly, replaced with a renewed surge of dread. Before he could fully process her words, another forceful tug on the leash propelled him forward, plunging him deeper into Lien’s twisted realm.

The moment Nick crossed the threshold of the shed, an almost palpable change in the atmosphere greeted him. The air turned thick, cloyingly so, saturated with an unmistakable mustiness that one only associates with long-abandoned spaces. It mingled with the odor of damp wood and a faint, metallic tang, the source of which Nick could only dreadfully imagine.

The heat was immediate and oppressive. Unlike the milder warmth of the outside, this was a sweltering cloak of humidity, no doubt amplified by the tropical weather outside. The lack of any air conditioning only heightened the discomfort, making each breath a labored effort. It felt as though the shed had trapped every ounce of the day's heat, releasing it in a slow, stifling wave that enveloped everything within.

As Nick was yanked further inside, every inch of the floor seemed to echo with his movements. Then, suddenly, the dragging ceased. All Nick could hear for a few brief moments was his own labored breathing, and the thudding of his heart which seemed amplified tenfold in the confined space.  

The subsequent sounds made Nick's stomach turn: the rustling of a chain, the sharp clink of metal meeting wood, and then, after a pregnant pause, a finality in the form of a 'click.' In that instant, Nick knew he'd been tethered, bound to this unfamiliar, suffocating place.

The weight of his situation pressed down on him further when Lien's soft yet cold fingers caressed the latex that encased his face. "Behave yourself," she whispered. It wasn't a plea, nor was it a suggestion. It was an order.

Her departing footsteps were slow and deliberate, punctuating the dread that settled in Nick's chest. The shed's door creaked slowly and then slammed shut, casting Nick into what felt like a stifling, sensory void. The finality of the lock clicking into place was deafening, sealing him away with an air of chilling indifference.

The stillness that settled in the shed after Lien’s departure was eerie, and in the deafening silence, Nick could hear nothing but the sound of his own strained breathing and the drumbeat of his racing heart. The darkness that blanketed him felt like a heavy shroud, making every sensation more acute, more intensified.  

Trying to make sense of his confinement, Nick began to tentatively shift his weight, testing the boundaries of his tether. Every slight movement sent ripples of discomfort through him, his limbs sore from their bindings and the aggressive tugs he had endured. But he needed to know the extent of his confinement, the length of the leash, and how far he could stretch before the cruel bite of the tether would remind him of his place.

Slowly, he crawled on his elbows and knees, the rough, dusty ground scraping against latex. It wasn't long before he felt that sharp, stinging pull against his sensitive flesh, a clear reminder of Lien's control even in her absence. He winced and let out a muffled grunt, the mask making even the most basic expressions a challenge.

The heat in the shed seemed to grow, each passing minute feeling hotter and more stifling than the last. Sweat trickled down every inch of Nick's body, pooling in the crevices of the latex that clung to him. Every breath was a labor, the minuscule nostril holes of his mask proving grossly insufficient in supplying him with the oxygen he desperately needed.

The weight of his predicament began to truly sink in, prompting a surge of adrenaline. Panicking, Nick writhed and twisted, pulling against his bonds, scraping his knees and elbows in his desperation. The metallic sounds of his frantic struggles echoed in the confined space. But with each frenzied attempt at freedom, the leash yanked him back, a ruthless reminder of his captivity.

Exhausted, Nick collapsed onto his side, gasping for breath, every ounce of fight drained from him. The gravity of his choice, the life he had willingly agreed to, pressed down on him. The overwhelming cocktail of regret, terror, and helplessness threatened to consume him. And in that dark, stifling space, Nick realized that he had willingly become a prisoner of his own desires.

As time lumbered on, the boundaries of the shed became Nick's entire world, each second stretching into an eternity. The still air grew heavy with the smells of must, his own sweat, and the lingering scent of Lien.

In moments of quiet despair, his mind would drift, becoming a battleground of conflicting emotions. Dread, regret, and anxiety tugged at him, pulling him down into a pit of self-loathing and fear. What lay ahead? What horrors had Lien planned for him next?

Yet, in the midst of this emotional maelstrom, a surprising sensation would grip him: arousal. The sheer audacity of his predicament, the knowledge that he was bound, helpless, and entirely at the mercy of a woman whose desires were so dark and mysterious, was intoxicating. This bewildering blend of terror and excitement gnawed at him, making him question his own sanity and desires.

Occasionally, bursts of adrenaline-fueled panic would overpower him, and he'd thrash against his bonds, his muffled grunts and the jingling of his tether echoing through the confined space. But each desperate attempt at freedom only served to amplify his helplessness. The solid, indifferent walls of the shed seemed to mock his plight, standing firm and unmoved by his agonized struggles.

The truth was becoming harder to deny: he was no longer a man, but a thing, an object of perverse entertainment. The realization was both degrading and oddly liberating. All his past accomplishments, memories, and dreams had been reduced to this singular, humiliating existence. Yet, in this stark new reality, there was a perverse clarity. Every pulse of fear, every shiver of anticipation, reminded him that he was alive, feeling, and in the thrall of sensations more intense than anything he'd ever known.

As hours passed and the darkness of the shed began to seep into his very soul, Nick wrestled with his emotions, torn between the fear of the unknown and a perverse curiosity about what lay ahead in this twisted game of power and submission.

The stifling heat of the shed, coupled with the constant pressure of the mask and restraints, made true sleep an elusive luxury. Each time Nick's consciousness began to wane, the cruel discomfort of his position, the suffocating heat, or the pang of a new ache would jolt him back into wakefulness. The mask, which clung to his face with an oppressive tightness, turned each breath into a shallow, laborious effort.

His body cried out in discomfort. The hardwood floor, cold and indifferent, seemed to press cruelly into every contour of his back and limbs. His elbows and knees burned with each minor shift in position. The collar around his neck, though initially snug, now felt like an iron shackle, its weight bearing down on him with an increasing severity as the hours passed.

But it was the agonizing dryness in his mouth that tormented him most. The sodden panties that had been stuffed inside had long since lost any moisture, and now sat as a dry, rough mass against his tongue and cheeks. Every instinct screamed for him to swallow, to somehow moisten his parched mouth and throat, but the presence of the foreign object and the tight ball gag rendered such relief impossible. His jaw ached terribly from being stretched wide for so long, the muscles protesting vehemently at the unnatural strain.

Time became a blur for Nick. Moments of clarity, where the weight of his predicament bore down on him with crushing reality, were interspersed with hallucinatory episodes where the line between dreams and reality wavered. He envisioned Lien, sometimes as a benevolent savior, at other times as a cruel tormentor, her laughter echoing in his ears. Memories of past loves, friends, and family flashed before his eyes, each scene tinted with a sepia-toned melancholy.

Yet, as the day's sweltering heat began to fade and the first hints of evening coolness started to permeate the shed, Nick's exhausted body and mind finally succumbed to a fitful sleep. But even in sleep, the weight of his choices and the reality of his situation lingered, coloring his dreams with shades of fear, regret, and an undercurrent of dark arousal.

Nick’s awakening was abrupt, drawn from his fitful sleep by the sound of the door to the shed opening. He couldn't tell how much time had passed under his latex mask; the mask allowed only the faintest traces of light to penetrate. From the residual heat, distant chirping of birds, and the soft hue of brightness trying to creep past the edges of his mask, he surmised it must be daytime.

There was a palpable anticipation in the air. With every step Lien took, Nick's heart pounded louder. A faint glimmer of hope bubbled within him. Maybe she had returned to relieve some of his discomfort – to feed him, to hydrate him, or to simply let him stretch.

But that hope was crushed when he felt her hands on him, specifically near his groin. His body instinctively recoiled, trying to escape the foreign sensation, but her grip was firm. “Stay still,” she hissed menacingly. Nick felt something tighten, followed by a click. Before he could process it, an excruciating electric shock jolted him. He let out a muffled scream into his mask, the pain intense and unexpected.

"Sshh," Lien whispered. "There's more to come." With that, she roughly yanked the mask from his face.

Nick squinted, trying to adjust to the influx of light after being in the dark for so long. The shed was a disarray of menacing tools and devices. However, it was Lien's voice that drew his focus.

“I want you to meet somebody,” Lien declared, her voice dripping with intrigue. She moved further inside, her footsteps echoing ominously with each step.

Nick strained to hear over the deafening silence that enveloped the shed. A faint glint of light hinted at another chamber beyond his current confines. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of rusty metal grating on metal cut through the silence. A heavy door groaned as it was forced open.

"Get your fucking ass out here!" Lien's voice sounded crueler than Nick had ever heard it before, laden with impatience and venom.  

The reply was a series of muffled grunts, layered with fear and exhaustion. They were accompanied by a disturbing mess of sounds: the relentless rattling and dragging of a heavy chain against a rough, wood floor. The sounds grew louder, closer. It was clear that whatever was being dragged was struggling and was not coming willingly.

Nick's mind raced, the chilling unknown before him more terrifying than any reality he had faced. Lien was returning, and she wasn't alone.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Lien's voice was cold, each word enunciated with calculated cruelty. The dissonant symphony of rattling chains and clanging metal grew louder, and Nick's heart rate quickened in tandem.  

Lien reemerged into Nick’s limited view, her face unreadable. In her grip, she held a heavy chain, its length trailing behind her, attached to some abomination. The figure it was tethered to was almost unrecognizable as human. Layers of burlap and metal obscured any definitive features, leaving behind a grotesque, tortured semblance of a person. This pitiable creature was reduced to crawling on its elbows and knees, every movement evoking the sound of strained, painful effort.  

The creature's muffled grunts grew louder, more frantic, and its desperate motions indicated profound discomfort. It seemed to be in a perpetual struggle to keep up with Lien's swift pace, which only made her grow more impatient.

Suddenly, with a swift motion, Lien pressed a button on a small remote she held. An audible 'zap' sliced through the room, causing the creature to yelp in pain, its entire form convulsing momentarily.  

"Shut up! And move your slow ass, or there's more where that came from!" Lien hissed, her tone dripping with menace. The creature, gasping and panting, increased its pace, its pitiable grunts punctuating the weight of its misery.  

Nick's blood ran cold as he took in the scene, horror deepening with every passing second. Was this the fate that awaited him?

Lien, her motions graceful, continued her relentless march towards Nick, the monstrous creature trailing pitifully behind. The stark difference between the two was striking, making the scene all the more surreal and harrowing. Where Lien's movements were fluid and serene, the chained figure could only muster a clumsy shuffle, the weight of his bondage evident with each strained movement.

As they drew nearer, the harsh reality of the creature's condition became devastatingly clear to Nick. The massive ring gag wedged in the creature’s mouth was inhumanly large, stretching his lips in an agonized grimace. The threat of a dislocated jaw seemed imminent, and every labored breath the creature took was accompanied by wet, desperate sounds through the gag.

The burlap mask which covered his face looked distressingly heavy, only emphasizing the creature's dehumanization. Every inch of the creature, from the torturous piercings to the gruesome restraints, spoke of prolonged suffering and an existence defined by torment.  

Lien's appearance only emphasized this bleak disparity. Her outfit, light and airy, made her look refreshingly cool despite the stifling heat. She moved with a dainty, carefree grace, seemingly indifferent or perhaps even oblivious to the pain and suffering she was inflicting.

The creature's groans became louder, more anguished as he got closer to Nick. The sight of another human being, albeit one in a similar state of degradation, seemed to elicit some visceral reaction from him.  

In that moment, Nick couldn't tell if the creature's noises were pleas for help or warnings of the misery to come.

The leash that Lien held wasn't a typical one; it was a thick, heavy chain, tarnished and worn from what looked like years of use. Its weight alone seemed to have a mind of its own, clinking and clanking as she dragged the creature behind her. It wasn't attached to a simple collar but was rather threaded in a sadistic pattern through various piercings that the creature bore.

His nose, once perhaps a prominent feature, was now pinched by a thick ring piercing, from which the chain was drawn, passing through his nostrils in a crude and torturous manner. That alone would have been agony, but the metal continued its journey, pulling at his tongue which was studded at its very tip, causing it to loll grotesquely out of his wide-stretched mouth.

From there, the chain went downwards, cruelly threaded through piercings that punctuated his nipples. Each movement, each tug from Lien, made them throb in raw anguish. Further down, the metal weave slid torturously through a piercing at the base of his navel before finally culminating in a grim finale at his genitals, where the weight and tension were cruelly evident.

Every step the creature took was a symphony of agony, the chain ensuring his constant discomfort and reminding him of his degraded status. The mere sight of this vicious arrangement made Nick's heart race in horror, realizing that such a fate could very well be his own.

Lien gracefully approached Nick, the light dappling her lithe form. Her skin, glistening slightly with the humidity, seemed so pristine amidst the grimy confines of the shed. Her sandals clicked lightly against the wooden floor as she halted right in front of him, crossing her legs and sinking into a seated position with a casual elegance.

With a sharp tug on the chain, she dragged the shuffling creature closer, its movements awkward and ungainly as it stumbled to maintain balance. Without warning, she grabbed its head, her fingers digging into the matted hair beneath the burlap mask. With a swift, merciless motion, she tore the mask away, revealing a pair of eyes that had witnessed unimaginable horrors. They were weary and filled with a depth of agony that sent shivers down Nick's spine.

The creature let out a pitiful, muffled groan, its movements growing more frenzied as if the exposure was too much to bear. Lien's fingers tightened, nails almost breaking the skin as she hissed a command for it to remain still.

Turning her gaze back to Nick, a cruel smile formed on her face "Nick, allow me to introduce you to my husband," she sneered. "Though, admittedly, there isn't much left of the man I married. This wretched thing before you is the result of half a decade under my tender care." The pride in her voice was unmistakable, and the implication of his potential future was clear.

The atmosphere grew tense as Lien turned her gaze towards the wretched creature that was once her husband. "Make yourself useful, for once," she commanded in a cold voice that belied the heat of the room.

Without hesitation, the man, or rather the creature he had become, began fervently licking the smooth, flawless skin of her slender arms and legs. The grotesque sounds of his slavish devotion echoed in the oppressive confines of the shed. As he did, Nick found himself ensnared in a complex web of emotions, his disgust and shock intertwining with a perverse arousal he didn't understand.

Gradually, the creature's attention moved downward, settling on Lien's feet. They were dirty, stained by the earth and glistening with perspiration. With great effort and the restraint of his shackles, he managed to remove her sandals. And then, with an intensity born of desperation, he licked and cleaned every inch of them, as if trying to gain her favor through this base act.

Watching this grotesque display of power and subservience, Lien mused out loud, her voice dripping with condescension. "You know, he might have had it slightly easier if he hadn't been so difficult in the beginning." She smirked, her eyes darting toward Nick before continuing, "Did he ever imagine this would be his future? My brilliant husband, the budding doctor, now reduced to licking dirt off my feet."

She leaned closer to Nick, her breath warm against his ear. "We used to argue, constantly. He was so headstrong, so sure of himself." Pulling away, her eyes locked onto the broken man at her feet. "I wonder if he ever regrets the things he said to me, those vicious arguments. If it weren't for those fights, I might've spared him this fate." She paused, a cruel smile forming. "But then again, what's the use of reflection? Beasts, after all, don't have choices. They just obey."

Lien surveyed her handiwork as the beast finished his task, seemingly satisfied with his demeaning display of submission. Without a word, she reached down and picked up a pale that sat nearby. It was filled with a murky greenish-brown liquid that glistened with an unappetizing sheen in the dim light.

Before he could react, Lien had already positioned the edge of the pale against his still gaping mouth. "Don't you dare move," she snapped, her voice filled with icy disdain.

The liquid cascaded into the beast's mouth, thick and gooey, making him splutter and choke as he tried to swallow. The pace was relentless, leaving him with no choice but to gulp down the repulsive concoction as quickly as he could. Despite his best efforts, a considerable amount of the substance dribbled down his chin and spilled onto the wooden floor beneath him.

After what felt like an eternity, Lien pulled the pale away. Gasping and coughing, the beast's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Without a hint of empathy, Lien roughly wiped away the mess from his face using the back of her hand, smearing the residue across his cheeks. "You should be grateful," she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. "You won't be getting another meal for days. And given the way you've wasted this one, maybe you don't deserve to eat at all."

The atmosphere in the shed grew even heavier, as Nick, still bound and powerless, tried to process the depths of cruelty and domination he was witnessing.

Lien, with a swift motion, viciously draped the burlap mask back over the creature's face. It settled heavily, obscuring the brief moment of raw emotion that Nick had witnessed. She rose to her feet, her posture poised and confident, a stark contrast to the beaten creature beside her.

Without a word, she began moving towards the dimly lit corner of the shed, dragging the creature behind her. The familiar sound of the rattling chain and clanking metal punctuated the air as they moved. The weight and complexity of his restraints made it hard for him to keep pace with her brisk stride. Every time he stumbled or faltered, Lien's frustration grew.

"Stop tripping over yourself, you pathetic thing!" she barked. "Hurry your ass up!"

Despite her cold commands, it was clear that the creature was doing his utmost to comply, struggling against the heavy chains and restraints to keep pace with her.  

Nick watched, his heart pounding, as they disappeared back into the shadowy room.


After Lien and her chained creature disappeared from Nick's line of vision, the shed was filled with a din of unsettling sounds. The tumultuous clinking of chains, the grinding and screeching of metal against metal, echoed in the suffocating space. Heavy footfalls collided with the wooden floor, creating a rhythm of anxiety. It was clear that the creature, burdened with its restraints, was struggling to move, and Lien's impatience was growing.

"Get your fucking sorry ass inside!" Lien's voice pierced through the clamor, commanding and cold.  

The creature's response was a series of desperate grunts, each one filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion. The intense struggle that played out just beyond Nick's view sent shivers down his spine. The sheer brutality of the situation he had found himself in began to weigh on him, but there was no escape, no respite.

Suddenly, there was a loud, resounding bang – the unmistakable sound of a heavy metal door being slammed shut.  

Lien's voice cut through the air, piercing and cold. "Fucking forget about sleeping for the next few days," she warned the beast, her tone dripping with menace. "I'm leaving the shock on until I come back to deal with your pathetic ass on Monday."

Moments later, her footsteps grew louder, moving closer to where Nick lay. The door to his room creaked open, and Lien's slender silhouette emerged from the doorway. Her eyes, which once seemed to dance with cruel delight, now settled on Nick, analyzing him with a detached curiosity.

She closed the door behind her, sealing off her poor husband from the outside world. Nick was once again confined with her, acutely aware of the sheer control she held over him and her husband. As Lien's eyes met Nick's, it became increasingly clear that the games and tortures were far from over.

Lien strode confidently toward Nick. Every step was deliberate, confirming her control over the room. Once she reached him, she gracefully lowered herself, kneeling right in front of his restrained form.

Gazing into his eyes, she whispered, almost playfully, "What did it feel like to see your future?" The implication of her words caused Nick's eyes to widen in sheer terror, and he groaned into his gag in a futile attempt to convey his desperation.

Ignoring his pitiful sounds, Lien swiftly and firmly pulled the latex mask back over his face, silencing his world once again. "Shut the fuck up," she admonished, her voice icy. "Remember, you agreed to this. You made a promise, and now, you're going to suffer every fucking thing I feel like doing to you. Too fucking bad."

Having ensured the mask was securely in place, Lien stood up, her shadow looming over Nick. "I'm leaving the zap on," she informed him with a twisted grin, seeming to enjoyim the fear her words instilled. "So, say goodbye to sleep for the next few days."

She moved gracefully towards the door leading outside, pausing only momentarily to cast a final, chilling warning over her shoulder. "I don’t know when I'll be back, but when I do come, you better be fucking ready." And with that, she slammed the door behind her, the sound of the lock clicking into place filling the room.

A sudden, sharp zap in his groin made Nick convulse. He was left in agonizing anticipation, never knowing when the next shock would come. The dread of the unknown became his constant companion in the darkness.