A surge of adrenaline burned through Natalie’s veins as an in-rush of light suddenly illuminated her once pitch-black world. While her eyes adjusted to the light, the menacing figure of Matt Broadsword slowly climbing down the ladder into the cellar came into focus. Clutched tightly in his left hand he held a carrier bag, the contents of which rattled as he descended each rung.

Natalie honestly didn’t know whether she’d been a prisoner for hours or days. Her bound wrists were numb; her whole body was wracked with a thousand tiny discomforts. Each moment was its own eternity; a cold fusion of low-level yet omnipresent physical pain and mental torture.

Flicking the light switch on with his right hand as he set down the carrier bag that he held in his left, Matt looked straight at Natalie. His expression betrayed nothing. Natalie couldn’t meet his gaze, and so he brought his gaze to meet her, roughly grabbing a handful of her hair and using it to turn her head so that her eyes had no choice but to stare into the fiery coals set deep into his mask that he called his eyes.

His other hand clawed at the neck of her vest, lingering there only a moment before tearing it from her, revealing her sweat-soaked white bra and prompting a short, sharp scream from her. Without unlocking his eyes from hers, he unbuttoned her shorts and let them drop to the floor.

Reaching into his carrier bag, he took out a pair of scissors. To Natalie’s terrified eyes, they seemed oversized. Devoid of any plastic handles, the cold metal monstrosities pressed against her chest. Natalie held her breath and winced – and Matt made her hold it for several seconds before granting her the release of a cut. The cut was made to the material linking her bra cups, and was followed in quick succession by two more – one to each of the bra’s shoulder straps. Natalie felt cool air on her nipples. Even with her eyes tightly closed, she couldn’t escape from the reality of her predicament. The tits that she’d guarded for so long were in the hands of a total stranger who could do whatever he liked to them. As it turned out, though, whatever he liked was just to blow on them softly, the rough stubble on his chin gently caressing her small cleavage.

His next few cuts were swift and incisive but, despite them, Natalie’s knickers still needed to be roughly torn free of her body. As Natalie felt him pull the last remnants of her clothing from around her bare feet, she felt her body respond to its enforced nudity. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of arousal washed over her; she felt her nipples and clit involuntarily hardening despite every fibre of her soul screaming at her to snap out of it, to hold on, to think about where she was, the danger she was in; her abject helplessness. But the more she did, the more the arousal intensified, and what Matt said to her next would send it into fever pitch.