Read on Twitter
Sitting at my studio desk, boredly sketching another kink drawing- my headphones muffle the slight ~hisss~ of a tank valve being opened. I react too late to the black rubber mask being pressed over my nose and mouth, kicking and pulling futilely as strong arms wrap around my neck
My unseen captor squeezes tightly as my eyes blur with tears, gasping for air that never comes, conciousness fading and muscles twitching limply. By the time my eyes have rolled back completely there is a wet stain of drool running down to my chest.
Waking up hours later to complete darkness, muscles jolting into action only to be stopped dead by heavy straps and padding. Legs held open, chest exposed, head gagged and locked in place. Not an inch of slack to squirm, head groggily racing.
I sit in the dark for I don’t know how long, as white noise gently rises, pulsing and ringing in my ears until my brain waves become one with the beating static.
That’s when the metal spreaders slip under my eyelids, and the screen switches on.
Time to being programming.
That’s when the metal spreaders slip under my eyelids, and the screen switches on.
Time to being programming.
