"When you are pulling against the restraints… when your back is arched and your hips are writhing… when your mouth is open in a silent scream of tortured rapture… you will know that my work has begun".
How wonderfully the vibrations pierce to her very core, with only this thin piece of cotton between the wand and her tenderness; devastating her without even touching her skin fully.
A sharp intake of breath, the prickling shock of realization; Laura had regained consciousness as if torn from the comfort of sleep by the stark horror of reality. From the moment she’d regained her senses, her mind had been racing to make sense of the predicament she found herself in. Laura squinted, the light piercing her vision until she adjusted to the brightly lit room, a sight which both mystified and terrified her. The room was small and bare, surrounded with mirrors which seemed to shine upon the young girl who was bound in the middle of it. Arms hanging from the ceiling, her wrists cuffed together while her legs were spread apart, feet flat on the warm carpeted floor as her ankles had been cuffed and pulled wide apart, leaving little room for movement.
“Please, where am I?” Laura called to no response, struggling to raise her voice as her head swam, the effects of the drug still lingering. She looked at herself in disbelief, feeling so small as the room seemed to engulf her, every angle of her slender frame displayed. How many times she had fantasised about being in such a situation, almost admiring the view as she hung there, spread helplessly, pale blue bra and panties clinging to such a delicate, petite frame. ‘But not like this,’ she thought to herself, snapping back to the gravity of the situation, trying in vain to free herself.
Suddenly, a movement, the slow idle rattle of a turning doorknob, before one of the mirrors in a corner of the room swung forward to reveal an opening. Like the entrance to a house of mirrors, except all of these mirrors were displaying but one attraction.