"The Dig": A BDSM Horror Feature film

Dr. Helen Jackson leads her intern deep into the Catskills, chasing an ancient burial ground. Legends spoke of raven-worshipping shamans who ruled through fear and strict control of every woman in their tribe. After unearthing oversized bird bones and strange relics, she knows they’ve struck gold. A local guide pushes them farther into the shadowed woods until they reach the cliffs and caves the shamans once claimed as theirs. Night falls fast. The moment the women step inside the sacred chambers, the air thickens, charged, dangerous. Spirits long denied flesh feel living heat again. They seize the intruders, binding arms behind backs, pulling elbows tight, chests forced forward. Helen’s blouse is ripped open, heavy breasts exposed, nipples stiff in the mountain chill. A thick leather ball gag is jammed between her teeth, straps buckled hard, silencing every protest. Her intern, Iona, is next—stripped, tits bouncing as she’s dragged across the stone floor and forced to her knees. A cock is shoved into her open mouth, held there while her eyes water, drool sliding down her chin. The spirits work methodically: rope cinched around Rain’s full chest, pulled cruel, each breast compressed and presented. The three women are hog-tied in sequence, ankles drawn back to wrists, backs arched hard, every curve on display under the moonlight leaking through the cave mouth. No ritual is gentle. Fingers pinch and twist sensitive flesh, mouths are used, gags are soaked, bodies tremble under the strain. Every position demands perfect obedience—knees spread, asses raised, lips parted around whatever is fed to them. The mountain answers with cold wind, and the shamans’ hunger grows. The women came looking for history. They found judgment instead, tight rope, rough hands, and the slow realization that some places still answer trespass with ownership.