She lifts her hands high

"No, Stephen." Sandra pulls her arms away when she sees you start to loosen her bindings. "This really helps me get the full picture of what Rae will have to go through." She lifts her hands above her head until her pose is strikingly similar to some of the drawings you found in her notebook. "When that musclebound guard lifted Rae against the wall, did he chain her arms up like this?" With her bare arms high over her head Sandra's breasts lift and bulge against her top. What little cool you were still holding on to is rapidly burning away, and you find yourself stammering in agreement.

Not where the bookcase stands, but a few feet away near the window, a former tenant had a large hook bolted to the wall to hang his bike from. Once you finish attaching the heavy chain and step back to take a look, you're pretty sure that Sandra looks far better hanging from the hook than any stupid mountain bike ever did.

"Please Mister, don't hurt me." Sandra falls back into the role of her cleric, before expanding a little on her thinking. "Rae pleads with the guard as she squirms in his grasp, but there's nothing she can say to stop him from stripping off her remaining clothes, is there?"

"What?" David would be quick with some wisecrack and Saul is always cool no matter what is thrown his way, but all you can do is stammer and stutter like a fool. You really should have been a little more prepared for something like this considering what you saw in Sandra's notebook, but - your mile-a-minute self monologue is interrupted as Sandra twists experimentally from the chain before looking up at you nervously.

"If Rae protests too much, that beast might make her regret it..." she bites her lower lip before finishing the thought, "this is a dungeon after-all with all kinds of whips, brands, clamps and other nasty stuff." For some reason, you feel a little more comfortable talking about the **** equipment hanging from the walls than what the crude jailor is doing with the half-naked beautiful woman in his power.

"That's right." You growl softly, "during her brief tour Rae saw more of those horrific devises than she ever even knew existed." Sandra's soft curves all seem to jiggle at once as she trembles against the wall.

"That's what I was afraid of, Stephen." Sandra's voice is low and throaty, "if Rae doesn't let those guards do whatever they want she could be whipped ... or worse."

"So, when that guard pulls down Rae's top," as you speak your hands slowly unbutton her shirt, "she'd let him feel her up without a fight?"

"She'd have to." Sandra's hushed whisper is so low you almost miss it, but when the clasp on the front of her bra opens, she lets you fondle her without protest. You've never really been into BSDM, but you have fantasized about getting your hands on these tits from the very first time you got a good look at her in Viv's dorm room.

Sandra's breasts are not just large, but they are also soft, warm and sensitive. When your thumb gently brushes the dark tip of one of those breasts it puckers and grows even harder. Curious, you pinch the other nipple hard enough to make her whimper softly and then release it to see which of these two approaches has the greater effect.