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All you hear is a heartbeat. All you see is darkness. All you can scream is emptiness.
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But your other senses tell you everything you need. The hard wooden chair that refused to budge no matter how hard you squirm has a soft pillow on it for your bare body's comfort. It's so unmoving, it's probably bolted down. The raw feeling on your wrists is from when you fought to break free from the plastic zipties that hold your arms and legs to the chair. The cool air that remains still on your skin raises goosebumps to the fore and hardens your nipples to a pert and erect state.
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Your face tells you the darkness is from a blindfold, the heartbeat is from headphones, and the emptiness of your screams is from a rubber ball-gag.
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You don't know how long you've been held prisoner. You were minding your own business, when a hand reached out from behind you, grabbed you, and slipped a rag over your mouth. Now you are here. You ask yourself how long you've been here. Maybe an hour? Two? Maybe a day? When you'd struggled, it felt like an eternity. You're all alone, with nobody to keep you company; at least nobody you could sense. The only sound that you can hear is the recorded sound of a heartbeat. Your only companion.
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You feel something on your thigh, and your entire body tenses up, begins to kick and fight. You try screaming, but the sound is empty and muffled. The fingers tracing along your thigh do not tense, or do not change their pace. They keep their steady pace, running up and down your body before brushing along the outside of your pussy, which you command to stay dry and calm. Your command is ignored, as you grow slightly damp. The fingers run up and down the slit, tiny electrical sparks of warmth running up your body as you desperately try to pull your hips away and fail.
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You struggle and buck and arc, fear tightening in your chest as your dissonant heartbeat grows more and more unalike the calm pulsing you feel in your ears. The owner of those fingers which began to violate you moves those fingers, up along your body, along your tummy, teasing your navel with a very light circle. As your captor's fingers move away from your pussy, your heart begins to calm slightly, before they move up and he brushes them along your nipples. Your entire body goes stiff again as fingers slowly begin to tease your left nipple, then your right. Waves of pleasure surge through you, fighting against your fear... riding on the waves of your fear.
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You fight your body and you fight your captor as you try to squirm and push away, your wrists begging you to stop as you tear them apart to fight the pleasure which is beginning to leak through your flesh. You want to scream 'Stop!', but it's kept in check by the gag. You don't want to keep moaning in pleasure, but it's kept in check by the gag. You don't want your pussy to keep throbbing in time with the heartbeat in your ears, but it keeps throbbing, keeps leaking lubrication all over the pillow under your ass.