She tells you what she's going to do

She gets to her knees, next to you, as you try to move, but fail.

“I’d tell you what I was going to do,” she says, as she pulls up the top half of your body to her breast, and slowly starts to remove your clothes, “but I’m bananas, totally unpredictable, so who knows.”

Having finished undressing your top half, she drops you, your head banging onto the ground, but you don’t feel anything. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel that when the relaxant wears off,” she says, as she moves round to your legs. “You’ll feel all the pain then.”

She pulls off your clothes, and looks down at your genitals, a smile on her face. “That’s when you’ll ask me to {if@ Male==true}castrate you{else}rip out your reproductive organs{endif}, after you’ve asked me to kill you and I’ve refused, when the pain in your {if@ Male=true}gonads{else}pretty pussy{endif} has become far too much to bear. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

She leans over you. “Don’t you love the thrill of anticipation,” she says, her finger tracing over your body, though you can’t feel it. “Of course, it’d be more fun if you tried to escape. I’d love to hunt you down, so let’s play hide and seek. I’ll close my eyes and count down from five hundred and then I’m coming, ready or not. When you can move your mouth again, say ‘Yes, Mistress’.”

You lie there naked, as she gets to her feet, turns away from you, and begins her countdown. “500... 499...”

You try to move, to squirm, but you can’t move a muscle, so you lie there, listening to her happily counting down, wondering whether you’ll ever be able to escape, or whether she’s just toying with you.