I’m alone in the dark.
I’m bent over a wooden frame, a padded leather block supporting my hips, another under my shoulders and upper chest. My arms are stretched out ahead of me, my wrists secured to a post. My legs are spread, and my ankles shackled to the frame. I’m wearing just a plain white bra and panties.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. Two, maybe three hours. Plenty of time to think about what might happen, who might use me. A man or a woman, men or women. Would they use me gently or cruelly? Caress me or whip me? Call me ‘sweet thing’ or curse me as a filthy whore? And when?
I’ve run though numerous fantasies in my head, sometimes thrilling, sometimes frightening, but always ending in damp panties.
It’s pitch black, not the slightest hint of light, and completely silent.
Abruptly, a click from behind me, and a shaft of light as the door opens, then darkness again as it closes.
Did someone come in? No matter how hard I strain, I can hear nothing but my own heartbeat.