Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“This is going back on,” I tell her. “For your own safety.”
I feel a certain disappointment as I cover her eyes again. Then I reach for cord, which always sits coiled beside my bed. I use it to bind her wrists first, and then I sit her on the bed and likewise bind her ankles, having removed her boots. She has cute feet, soft like the rest of her, two adorable fleshy little paddles with small, shapely toes. She does not say anything while I do this. She accepts being tied with a certain amount of grace that is stoic and admirable.
Having secured her as is necessary, I step back and admire my handiwork. There is something very vulnerable about her. I do not know if it is the impossibly soft flesh which feels incredibly pliable and warm under my fingers, the feeling of which remains with me even now that I am not touching her. She is a vessel I want to fill. But this has been a very eventful day, and there are forces at play more important than my raptor lust. Soon, I will take her. I will make her scream for me. I will stretch every tender part of her around me and I will indulge my most twisted pleasures. But not yet.
“Stay here. If anyone knocks on the door, scream like you’re being ravaged.”
She blushes bright red beneath her blindfold. The way these humans change color as a result of their emotions reminds me of some of the behavior of the smaller non-sentient lizards on our world. There are creatures which flash and pulse with light to blend into their surroundings. This human might want to be invisible, but she is lit up, her face glowing and her eyes bright.
The mention of ravishment excites her. And her excitement pulls at the strings of my own desire.
She’s soft, pretty, supple. She’s vulnerable. She is prey. I will devour her completely.
Soon.
3 THE SAURIAN, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDROBE
Lettie
I hear sounds of him leaving, but not through the big metal door with the bar across it. He did not move it. Instead, I hear faint squeaking. More like the sound of a wooden door being opened. Has to be the wardrobe. Must be a way out through there.
I hear it close, quietly. He’s trying to hide the way he’s exiting, but I don’t need my eyes to observe. And it’s going to take more than a few bits of rope to keep me bound. I like rope. I like it a lot. It’s a little bit of a hobby of mine, actually. Not so much the tying, but the escaping.
When he was tying me, I held my elbows apart. He wrapped it somewhat tight, but he didn’t want to hurt me, and he didn’t know how much tension to put on the rope. All I do now is slide my forearms back together in a prayer position and there’s enough slack in the rope to start wriggling my hands back and forth until I can pull the first loop up and over my hands. Then another. Then another. Then the entire coil just unrolls itself. From there, I yank the blindfold off and untie my feet. I’m free, to a certain extent. And I’m not all that far from being properly free. All I have to do is get my clothes back and sneak out.
First things first. There’s the safe, which he told me not to go near, but it has my suit in it. I have to get that back. With that back, I can do almost anything. Shan did warn me it would be dangerous to try to open the safe, but it’s also pretty fucking dangerous sitting in the saurian criminal underground mostly naked, so I reckon I’ll be taking that risk.
The fact that I’m even getting the opportunity to try is a testament to how underestimated I am. He must think I’m so pathetic to be contained with a bit of limp rope and a blindfold. I must seem like the most hapless, helpless little creature he’s ever encountered.
And as for the wardrobe escape path, that’s so unoriginal as to be damn near cliché. You couldn’t write this stuff. I wonder if he knows how obvious it is? He probably doesn’t care. Shan doesn’t seem like the type to be interested in things like opinions.
I get up, pull my boots on, and decide to check the wardrobe before I get started on the safe. I didn’t hear him disarming any traps, which makes me assume it is safer than the, well, safe. Wearing t-shirt, underwear, and boots, I cross over to the wardrobe, running my hands over it to see if it hums or ticks or does anything else that might indicate some kind of trap that’s going to take bits of me off if I activate it. I sense nothing.