There's a warehouse where I take them. It's dark and full of old junk. I honestly don't know who owns it and I don't really care. I'm not usually there very long and when they discover the squirming, miserable mess of a woman I leave behind, I just move on to another building. I've done this for a while now.
She's tied to a folding chair. Green shirt and blue jeans. She's cute. I like that. Doesn't make me feel bad one bit. I tied her to the chair, arms and ankles, knees together to give her a false sense of safety. You know, play with her brain for a bit. Let her think this may end with...

There's a warehouse where I take them. It's dark and full of old junk. I honestly don't know who owns it and I don't really care. I'm not usually there very long and when they discover the squirming, miserable mess of a woman I leave behind, I just move on to another building. I've done this for a while now.
She's tied to a folding chair. Green shirt and blue jeans. She's cute. I like that. Doesn't make me feel bad one bit. I tied her to the chair, arms and ankles, knees together to give her a false sense of safety. You know, play with her brain for a bit. Let her think this may end without too much screaming.
I come in and change her gag. The ballgag isn't as useful as a pair of panties held in by electrical tape. Nowhere near as useful. She struggles against me, but I add a little rope here and there to keep her more still. Eventually, I will get tired of this and begin removing things: some of the rope. Her clothes. My pants.