EXTRACT FOR
Punished and Interrogated For My Sexual Pleasure
(Nicola Diaz)

	I'm suspended in the air, my ankles tied to my wrists, and both of them in turn tied to a suspender bar. Face up, legs spread and my crotch visible to anyone who wants to see. 



But the only person around for miles is a guy called Alessandro Marquez, who had abducted me from my office earlier today and is responsible for the way I'm currently positioned. I'm wearing nothing but boots and a collar that he has given me, and the room we are in is unheated. Shivers run up my spine, whether of fear or anticipation...or even pleasure, I'm not so sure. 



Ordinarily, had a stranger abducted me and then proceeded to strip and suspend me in thin air, I would've been shitting my pants. But here, anticipation as to what he might do next overpowers whatever fears I might have. I don't know why, but ironically, my abductor makes me feel safe. For some reason I cannot put my finger on, my instincts tell me to...trust him. Trust him to treat me like some sort of sex toy, but also trust him to not really harm me. 



At the moment, the former seems like the more viable possibility, so I stop mulling things over and bring my focus back to him. He is standing in front of a shelf, trying to decide which toys to use. I still don't know why he's brought me here, or what sort of erotic interrogation he's about to conduct, but I find myself worried more about how eagerly my body might react, as I am about who he is. It seems to be enough that he is lip-smackingly gorgeous: 6'4", lean (I never could see the appeal of muscular hunks), just the right density of beard, brown eyes. To top all that, he has the deepest of the deep baritones for a voice.