Her breath was heavy; chest rising high with fear.
Utter darkness was all she could see; yet no cloth was over her eyes.
The air was hot; sweat beaded on her naked body.
Mustiness of a closed room; no fresh air had entered in a long while.
She fired the muscles in her legs; they responded but were impeded by restraints.
Her spirit rose with her arms; hope flew away after their inch of freedom limit.
Her mind filled with fear; how had she come to be here?
Last night... at the bar... drinking alone when she had started feeling strange... the world started shifting... she had gotten up to try and go home... hands grabbed her arms to hold her up as she faltered... a bright light... and then darkness...
Straining to shake more out of the obscurity; her consciousness was greeted with naught.
She tried to make out anything of the room she was in. Her eyes searched all around, but were met with complete night. Nothing was impeding her ability to see; it was if she were blind...
Her focus turned to the state of her body; she was naked on a hard table.
Her arms were stretched out from her body, 90 degrees to her torso. She tested their restraints again; her mind knowing nothing would have changed. The wrist shackles again only allowed about an inch of travel from the surface before dashing her hopes; the unmistakable sound of chains revealing they were the cause of the restraint.
Terrifying thoughts entered her mind as she came to realise her sex was exposed; her legs spread apart wide, and fastened down at the ankles. The table she was on ended just below the small of her back, her buttocks and thighs met the hot air untouched; until just below her knees the table started again to hold her there.
She could feel the edge of the table running down the side of her arms; it ran close to her torso. Her mind filled with an image of what the table must look like; a starfish shape that was specially designed for easy access to its occupant's body...
Giving up on the freedom of her arms, she tried her legs again; if only she could get her knees up...
No movement rewarded her efforts at all; she collapsed into the table... defeated... for now...
She strained to make out any sound; silence drifted loudly into her ears and mind.
A few minutes of this started her mind descending into panic; it was interrupted...
A single fingernail...
It pushed firmly into the tip of her left big toe; her body jolted with surprise. Someone had been standing... waiting... in that perfect silence... watching her.
Her captor...
There was just enough pressure applied to bring the nail to the forefront of her mind; through even the fear now clouding her being.
The fingernail started a slow, unbroken journey; the whole time her body constantly writhed in its bonds to escape its touch:
It rounded down the back of her toe,
Slid down the sole of her foot,
Gently around her ankle,
Over its restraints,
Along the front of her calf,
Rolling underneath her knee,
Tracking across the back of her thigh,
Moving to the outside of her hip,
Trailing the curve of her side,