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Short sketch of a drug-laden trip downtown.


You hear a rachetting sound, and as you search your mind for the source of the noise, you feel cold steel between the scaphoid in your wrist and your hand. The chilly, hard unforgiving steel becomes a band tightening around you until there is no movement in your hand without immediate discomfort.

"Don't struggle, relax, and it won't... might not hurt" whispers the voice in your ear"

Your cuffed right arm is forcibly extended onto the desk in front of you, and the empty bracelet snapped shut around the table leg. You instinctively pull your arm back in towards you, succeeding in firing off a shooting sensation up your arm and a scrape on the thin skin on the inside of your wrist... but only actually pulling yourself closer in to the desk.

The same procedure is carried out with your left arm, fixing it in the cold steel of cuffs, tighter and tighter until there is no pain-free movement available, and extending you forwards as the cuffs are also fixed onto the table leg, now causing you to bend forwards at the hips. Before you have had time to acclimatise, your glasses are carefully guided off and put away out of sight, and what you know to be a black, velvet eyemask placed over your eyes. It feels tight enough not to move, so that even trying to open your eyes will rub on your long eyelashes so much so that... well, you know your eyes will stay closed.

Your dress is now exposed as your coats has been kicked away, the same firm body is close in behind you, a definite bulge slowly pushing into your arse, moving slowly from left to right. The hands that had held your wrists previously you feel to be one on each outer thigh, just at or above the knee. Both hands feel at your leg, moving over the front of your thigh, continuing to the inner knee and thigh, a firm grip, warm hands, fingers splaying and moving up, up, inside your dress, rucking it up as they continue to move closer and closer to your cunt.

One palm covers your mound, pushing at you over your knickers, making firm, forceful circles as the fingers curl round from the bottom, right between your legs and extending towards the perineum, then being brought up, back to your hot, moist slit, your pants being slid to one side as a fingernail traces, fractionally inside your lip, as more and more wetness develops.

The other hand reaches inside, you feel more cold metal and hear a sudden tearing snip as your kickers are cut with scissors, the gusset falls down, and you are now exposed to be easily taken...

You feel the his groin push closer in to you as the curvature of his body matches yours, leaning forwards, reaching for your collar again as your breasts are pushed into the table, you still pulled forwards by the restraints that secure you to the desk.

As both hands reach your shoulders, you hear a tearing as the integrity of your dress is obliterated, and is cut, from the nape of your neck, down the trace of your spine, past your arse, each side of the cloth being pulled apart, more frenetically than before, like a surgical gown, undone and fallen open to the sides.

You hear a crumpling noise from behind, and feel trousers falling against the back of your thighs, then calves. Then on the inside of your left thigh, you feel a hard, damp-ended cylinder of cartilage, blood and lust, tracing up and up, leaving a silvery trial of pre-cum on your skin. A foot in between your legs splays you out further, exposing your lips, which are now dripping wet, the mixture of fear, excitement and anticipation causing your heart to pound, the sensory deprivation of your sight intensifying every other feeling you have.

A hand begins to explore inside you, fingers probing deeply, confirmation that you are warm and silky inside, one finger time lazily rolling your clitoris, flicking backwards and forwards, this sensation foremost in your mind...

Your lips get pushed apart, then some more as the head of his cock enters, an inch, then withdraws, then enters again, then withdraws before being tapped against your clit, rubbed agai
