Where was she? What was the last thing she could remember?
Cheryl Burke, former Dancing with the Stars pro was trying very hard to wake herself up. But why? She hadn't gone to bed, had she? No. It was sometime in the afternoon. Or was it morning? Why couldn't she recall?
The 39-year-old made an attempt to stretch but found her limbs uncooperative. "Wait. Wasn't I doing my podcast?", she thought. "Or was that yesterday? My brain is so fuzzy." The sound of a door opening startled the brown-haired dancer. Fluttering open her long lashes, she found herself staring up at her friend and former costar Sharna Burgess. "Hi. Yeah, that's right. You were on my podcast today. Was it today? Why am I so confused?"
"Well," taunted the sexy Australian while brushing the hair away from Cheryl's face. "I may have had something to do with that." The 5'4" professional dancer smiled and flashed her piercing blue eyes down at her reclining 'friend'. "Think back. I was showing you a video on my phone before going live, remember? I told you I'd discovered this new health guru and wanted to share my passion with you."
Cheryl was nodding now, the fragments in her brain finally starting to align and make sense. "But there was no video. I just remember wavy circles that you insisted were part of some opening sequence." The shapely dancer moved her head from side to side, still unable to make use of her arms or legs. "Whose bedroom is this? When did we leave my house?" Panic was starting to creep into the 39-year-olds voice as she struggled to sit without success.
"Shh. Relax, Cheryl. You're fine. The reason you can't move is because I have your hands and feet tied to the bedposts." Sharna was sitting on the bed now at Cheryl's side, tracing her painted fingertips around the helpless woman's exposed, hardening nipples. "I guess by now you've also noticed that you're naked."
Craning her neck, Cheryl looked down at her prone body and gasped. "Wh-what is this?" she screamed, struggling against the ropes that held her legs apart and hands over her head. "Let me go, Sharna. If this is a joke it isn't funny. You're scaring me." The 5'4" exotic beauty was flailing wildly, her face and neck flushing hot with fear.
Leaning down, red haired Sharna cradled her contemporary's face and whispered "I'm not going to hurt you, Cheryl. In fact, I want to make you feel good." After softly kissing Cheryl's frosted lips, the 33-24-34 Australian traced down the captive woman's inner thigh then stood. "You were hypnotized, Cheryl. That's all. No drugs, no nothing. Anyone who may have seen us saw nothing out of the ordinary. You came with me quite willingly and of your own free will."
"That can't be true" protested Cheryl. "Why would I leave my own house? Why would I do that, then let you bring me here? To do this?" The dark-haired beauty was now very aware of her nakedness and exposure, but there was nothing she could do but accept the situation. For now. "Why, Sharna? Why? You're supposed to be my friend."
"I am your friend, Cheryl. That's why I brought you here. Truth? I've always thought that you would make a fantastic lesbian. You have an amazing body, and when we worked together on Dancing with the Stars, I'd fantasize about having sex with you all the time. To the point of distraction." The tan and muscled dancer moved between Cheryl's wide-spread legs, flicking her tongue lightly over the fuzz decorating either side of her friend's moistening slit. The brown-eyed woman arched her back and gasped involuntarily.