EXTRACT FOR
Dark Fantasy
(Kelly Addams)

It's like some kind of paralysis? She tried to call out but sound couldn't pass the fabric that was crammed so tightly into her mouth that her jaw ached. My panties! It had to be, they must have been stuffed in for some time because her saliva had soaked away and her tongue pressed against desiccated cheeks and gums. She tasted pussy, her own stale juices. Tape pulled her skin, the type of tape that plumbers and the like used, silver grey and super adhesive, it had to be that type because despite her best efforts to open her mouth the only movement she detected was her own skin stretching.

I'm still at home she realised as a bead of nervous sweat trickled across her cheek to drip down and soak into her pillow. She was in her bedroom, she recognised the smell... was it true that when one sense is deprived the others intensify? She had lost her sight, and so smell had kicked into a higher gear. She could detect the jasmin that wafted in through her open window, not really definitive on its own, but when combined with her favourite body spray she was fairly sure that she was tied to her own bed.

And that confirms it, she almost sighed. Downstairs, in the hall leading to her half glazed front door stood a tall, ancient and particularly ugly grandfather clock, she hated it, but it had been a gift, and not the sort of gift that would go unnoticed should it suddenly disappear. But despite how much she disliked the bulky old timepiece, for the first time the familiar sound of it chiming the quarter hour brought comfort.

So, I'm tied up, I'm blindfolded and gagged (with my own dirty panties), but at least I'm at home! Why that should have felt reassuring she couldn't quite say, maybe it was better than realising she was restrained, naked in some abandoned warehouse... now that would be a cause for panic.

Why am I so calm? Why am I just accepting this?

Two questions that demanded an answer, but neither seemed that important.

More important was her total lack of mobility, that was a strange thing, she couldn't move a muscle... yet she felt!

Surely paralysis meant loss of nerves, loss of feeling, she had seen it on television, in films, the way the guy stuck in a wheelchair had zero feeling in useless legs... but this wasn't the case as she lay in her bedroom. She heard it at first, the annoying buzz of a large fly, blue-bottles she assumed they were called, the size of a bee with a shiny iridescent blue body. The ones that land on road kill and shit she thought as six tiny tickling feet scurried across her inner thigh.

There was the conundrum, clear feeling, yet zero reflex or movement.

Fuck no! The trail was leading where no fly should ever trespass, and Sonia felt panic rising again, she was naked, she was exposed, her bedroom window was open, that she knew for sure because there was breeze brushing against and chilling her spread and clearly damp pussy... and her intimacy was about to be invaded by a dirty fly!

With an angry buzzing the bothersome insect took flight and Sonia silently sighed her relief, mentally she followed the sound of its flight around her room, it was then that her heightened senses peaked, and suddenly her blood ran cold. The breeze had shifted, she detected a faint odour of stale alcohol, like her bedroom the morning after the night before, and a hint of tobacco. 

Those aromas she could have dismissed as random scents carried from the street below, if it hadn't been for the creaking of a floorboard beside her bed, and a deep and very masculine chuckle that would have made her jump... if her body was capable of movement.

And she felt her heart stop beating for a second as a hand rested gentle against her smooth shaven mound, as he spoke:

"So you are finally awake sexy girl... now our fun can begin!"