Your eyelids are still droopy. The chloroform did its work. You've been out for like a half an hour and during that time I easily stripped you down to your bra and panties, gagged you and handcuffed your hands behind around the pole in my bedroom. And I thought moving into an apartment that was a converted fire station would be a bad idea.
I didn't bind your legs because I'm going to spread them apart and torture you. I also have good reason for not blindfolding you; I want you to see everything I'm about to do, as I do it. I don't want to gag you to the point that I can't hear you at all, that's really no fun. It'll turn me on to hear you whimper and scream with the rag in your mouth. And with your hands bound behind you and the steel pole holding you capture, we are about to have one hell of a fun night.
I'm getting kinda bored with you now, so I lightly slap the side of your face.
"Wake up cutie patootie," I laugh, as your eyes begin to open. You blink several times and try to bring the world back into focus. Upon realizing that you can't move your hands, you try to yell, but discover the gag. I sigh and grab you by the hair, forcefully standing you on your feet. With a yelp, you glare at me with a pleading look, wondering what is happening.
"Well hey there, you've been asleep for a while. Jeez, I had to hold back from raping the shit out of you while you were unconscious, just to wait for you to wake up." I turn my back on you and show you what is behind me. It's a table full of objects and your eyes open wide.
"Nnn-mmmm!" you yell through your gag, but no words come out. The startled look in your eyes say it for you.
"Ohh, you're worried about this stuff, huh?" I show her a flat ended hair brush. "I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy tonight. I know I will." I walk towards you, then stroke your cheek with the hair brush. You sob a bit. That makes my cock hard. I rub against you, licking your lovely lips as they protrude from the gag. I love how you don't wear lipstick. I can taste your cherry chapstick. A single tear rolls down your cheek and I catch it with my finger. I hope your eyeliner runs and your mascara smears.
"Now, now, cutie patootie," I croon. "I know for a fact you'll like this. You told me yourself online, in that chat we had."
Your eyes squint as you search your memory for what I'm talking about it. Suddenly you come to realize that the guy you had an erotic chat with online a few weeks ago, accompanied by hot, nude pictures of yourself, has become a real life situation.