she struggled against the ropes.
she froze a moment at the sound of his voice, then renewed the frantic pull and tug
once more she ceased her movement. hard to say where the voice came from. above, behind? all was dark behind the mask that covered her head. She could breath, barely. The holes under her nostrils were small, and she sucked in deep draughts of air.
she couldn’t exhale them through her mouth. the slick latex covered her lips completely, showing their curve, but with no gap there was no place for the expired air to go.
she breathed out her nose. remembered the yoga lessons she’d had years ago, in and out in equal measure, via the nose.
she couldn’t stop the fresh surge of panic. he’d said he would only keep her in here for a short time. she struggled again, feeling her body moving, but not touching anything.
His voice was everywhere and nowhere. He’d promised to be here, to not leave her in this empty darkness. her knees were tied, she was on her side, her feet fluttered uselessly. covered and bound she could make no sounds but panicked sqeeks, and even those were muffled.
she counted in her head to 10.
she counted in her head to 20.
how many times had he spoken. once. twice.
He’d fucking promised to not keep her here to guide her through her panic. where the fuck was He? the three strikes rule was stupid.
she screamed as she kicked and writhed and wriggled. something tickled along her exposed breast, zapping her right nipple painfully.
as she spun sightlessly through the air, he held out the violet wand, gently touching exposed flesh. Soon she would stop her struggles, and the game would end.
but for now she would struggle, and feel the caress of pain.