Imagine me and you, the only people in the room. I'm staring at your with anger in my eyes because my wrists are tied behind my back, a bandana covers my mouth, and despite every effort, I cannot communicate to you what I want to say. You probably wouldn't like it anyway. I tug at my binds and shimmy my shoulders in a way that showcases my perfect cleavage magnificently. I'm angry that you get to stare at me in my black bra and flannel shirt, angry that you get to envisage all the things you'll do to me later while I just want to leave. But then, without so much as a warning, my look soften... Show more