I awaken slowly, feeling...odd.
It's still dark, darker than it should be. I can't see anything, not even my...
I realise with a start that I can't move my hands. They are stretched above my head and tied. No...cuffed!
I can feel the cool hard metal and hear the metalic click of the chain. My ankles too.
And it isn't just dark, I have been blind folded.
"What's happening? Who's there? Please"
Nothing. Silence. Am I alone? I struggle helplessly against my rattling chains.
"Please. Speak to me. What do you want? Who's there?"
Still silence.
Why do I ask what they want. What do I think someone who chains a woman to a bed on her back and blindfolds her might want?
I wriggle around exploratively. I'm wearing my panties and a tee shirt - presumably the ones I was wearing when I went to sleep. Pale blue panties with white lace and a white Ralph Lauren Tee.
"Heyyy! Help. Please! Someone hel... Oh my GOD! Who are you? Please. Please speak to me."
It begins as a stroke on my thigh, running up to and over my panties, lifting the hem of my tee. The feel of a finger just barely touching my skin. Then suddenly two hands grasping at my tee shirt and ripping it open with a loud tearing.
I lie still. Barely breathing. I feel the hand brush my right breast, my stiffening nipple. Stroking the soft flesh, just brushing across my nipple. Is that my imagination or is that the touch of something moist? A tongue? Are those lips brushing my breast or have my confused senses totally decieved me?
Fingers gently stroking the inside of my thighs. I try not to move or breath. The fingers stroke gently, the hand brushes my panties. Are they damp? Is that wetness? MY wetness? How can I be so turned turned on when I ought to be terrified?
The fingers stroke the front and the outside of my thighs.
Breath. A kiss on my tummy. A tongue tip tracing up towards my..."Aoowwweee! Hey, no, please aaooww!"
Firm pinches on my nipples followed by sharp slaps on each breast.
Still my tormentor is silent.
I wait, trying not to squirm as I pull against the chains which are so firmly holding me helpless, on display.
I feel the fingers slipping into the waistband of my panties and slidding them swiftly and firmly down my legs to my knees, exposing me spread eagle on the bed.