She opens her eyes and blinks a couple of times, confusion filtering through her hazy and sluggish mind as her searching gaze is met with only shadows. She turns her head from left to right, and still the shadows persist in their pursuit of her ability to see. She moves to pull her hands towards herself only to find that her arms won't move. She tries to move her legs, and they, too, are incapable of following her minds' orders of motion. Shock and a decent amount of fear courses through her veins as she tries to orient herself to her surroundings using what little she can. No sounds meet her straining ears. No scents other than that of the laundry detergent she uses meets her nose. She tries again to move her limbs, and still they refuse.
She is alone, unable to orient herself or to move.
Time slips past her. She can feel the seconds ticking away as she struggles with an inward battle to keep her fear from overriding her precious and well-maintained sense of clarity and self.
A rustle of sound, the air being forcefully parted by an unseen object, was her only warning. Mere moments later, pain bites through her hip. It is at this moment that she notices that her sense of touch has heightened. From a lack of her other senses, perhaps? She doesn't know and doesn't have time to dwell on the question as the bite lashes her once again on her other hip, the bite wrapping around to her inner thigh. Leather, it feels like. One strand.
The object strikes her again and again, alternating sides of her body. The problem? She can no longer differentiate the pain from the need building in her body. 'This isn't right,' her mind whispers, the thought process shattering as the pain bites into her again. It's coming quicker, but still alternating. Left. Right. Then back again.
Her body trembles, but still... She cannot say if from pain or longing. She could feel her body responding. The rustling air brushing past her nipples and sending shocks of sensation trailing through her body. The building need to press her thighs together in an effort the help ease herself... And the ability to do so stripped from her by unseen restraints.
She tries to whimper, to cry out, to scream... Nothing emerges.
Resigned to her fate, she awaits the next bite of pain, her body tensing in anticipation of the blow. Nothing happens.
Relaxing her tensed muscles, she once again strains her ears for any whisper of sound. Any telling that she wasn't alone. She can't hear anything. The rustle of wind parting that signified the incoming bite was gone.
Time sped forward, unrelenting in its' passage as she waits for the next blow to fall. Seconds tick by once again and, still, her body trembles.
A growl pierces the silence, deafening enough to make her wonder if the cause was curled up next to her, just out of physical contact. She inhales sharply, her anticipation building... But of what?
Heat and weight press against her small frame, threatening to crush her and yet showing restraint. Bound and helpless, she waits for the next bite of pain. It doesn't come and a gasp is pulled from her parched throat and past her trembling lips as she is suddenly taken. Her world blurring in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
The person starts slowly, taking their time with her body as if time wasn't slowly ticking away. Hands grasp at her flesh, pinching and scratching. Adding more bursts of pain, smaller than what she had felt earlier but still effective in their reaction. As the hands trail down her body, the touch light and seemingly gentle, flames lick at her skin in their heated wake. She tries to whimper. She tries to beg. None of it passes her wanting frame to taint the silence.
Another growl reaches her ears, almost possessive in its' sound, and the person begins to build speed. Her muscles clench and her womb spasms in need. She finds herself wanting nothing more than the promise of release. She's so close, her womb clenching and unclenching. Silently begging.
The person slows down right before she was about to fall over the ledge. Her pleasure begins to wane, and she fights the urge to cry out in frustration. The slow speed is maintained, ecstasy flowing in waves of molten lava throughout her body - seeming to have replaced her blood entirely.
Against her minds' wishes, a whimper is pulled from her lips. The sound loud in the silence and full of a near mad wanting.
The hands resting on her hips tighten, short nails painfully and possessively digging into her skin. The person speeds up once again, spiraling her towards the edge and throwing her over without giving her a moment to consider the meaning. The person stills above her, their bodies still melded to one another.
She couldn't give a passage of time any more, but the heat and weight above her lessens. Her wrists and legs are suddenly freed and she rolls onto her side and curls up. After her trembling ceases, she reaches up with a hand to touch the blindfold. A smile curves her lips as she pulls it aside and looks around, blinking in the sudden glare of lights.
She is in her room, the familiar surroundings giving her a minimal feeling of comfort. Her gaze turns questioning as she looks around once more and the realization strikes her.
She is alone.
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