Obviously, she'll have to get naked...

Karen trembles now when you approach, not just out of fear, but out of a kind of existential dread, as she grapples with the idea that her mind is nowhere near as inviolable as she previously thought. Her eyes only vaguely apprehend you at first, but in the end, you are a more pressing threat, and she looks at you, helpless to stop you.

'W-what are you going to do?' Her Scottish brogue quivers as she speaks, and she presses her back against the unyielding metal of the rack.

'Well, whatever I desire, I think we've already established this,' you shrug, nonchalant in the face of forcing the young woman to question her entire life up to this point. 'In this specific instance, since we've already agreed that I'm going to **** you, obviously I'll want you nude, yes?'

You run your hands up Karen's spreadeagled, bound legs, taking your time to trail your fingers from her knees up the soft skin of her thighs. There's no sense in rushing around something like this, when you're toying with a starlet best known for her beautiful legs, after all; you slowly slip your hands up under the hem of her skirt, rising higher and higher as Karen struggles, unable to stop you.

When you reach her hips you allow one hand to run around to her front, smiling as Karen mewls and shakes her head. Fingers slipping between her legs, the wetness on Karen's panties is still warm under your touch, evidence of the cruelly **** orgasms you had foisted upon her earlier. Grinning, you slip her panties down her legs, dragging them with agonizing slowness down to her knees before, with a flourish, tearing them off.

'Open your mouth, Miss Gillan,' you order, and when those pink lips part you ball up her ruined panties- sticky and wet parts out- and push them gently into her mouth. Her nose wrinkles at the taste of her own arousal on her tongue, but you tell her firmly, 'Don't take them out of there until I say so, slut.'

A scowl crosses her face, but nevertheless she closes her mouth on her panties, keeping them in place as you reach up and into the modest cleavage of Karen's dress and, setting yourself, you begin to tear it down the middle.

Karen squeals, the sound muffled by her new gag.

The process is laborious, but pleasingly primal; you rip the clothes off of your woman, inch by inch, revealing more creamy white skin to your gaze as you go. It's like unwrapping a present, one that squirms and tries to get you to stop, in the end fruitlessly. The dress falls uselessly to the floor in a heap of black fabric, no longer fit for wearing, though the implications of that seem to only really occur to you yourself:

When you're done with her, Karen will have no clothes to leave in...

Her body shines pale and white under the spotlight above the rack, slender and gorgeous and open to you, just begging to be touched, tasted, fucked... and you get to do it all. Sex toys line the room, all ready to be brought to bear on this tall and perfect body, fit to pleasure her and hurt her, all for your enjoyment.

You have her. Karen Gillan, all yours in any way you wish. Will your sadism or your lust win out first?