Ciarra stood in front of me, narrowed eyes and a devilish grin. I saw that she held a roll of what seemed like black electrical tape in her hand. I wondered what use she could possibly have for it, and my quandary was answered the moment it entered my mind.
“Time to get comfortable in this chair,” Ciarra gestured to the desk chair that still sat in the far corner of the room. “You’re going to be there quite a while.”
Not knowing what to expect, and falling deeper into submission, I hopped off of the bed. I darted across the room and sat down in the chair without hesitation. Of the three of these women, Ciarra frightened me the most. She had frightened me before they had taken me captive. I had seen her around campus and for the most part she was quiet and spoke only to her two friends. But, on occasion, I would see her screaming at some poor student that must have somehow wronged her. She would go on seemingly random tirades about feminism and how useless men are to society. I had turned on my heels and scurried in the opposite direction more than once as I came across one of her aggressive, public lectures.