The next day

"Good morning!" she says. "Quite the night we had last night, isn't it, baby?"

"Baby? I can call you that, can't I?" Alina says.

She undoes one of your handcuffs, nothing substantial that you can reach other than the blanket in front of you, but it's something.

"I want to prove that I trust you a little more, so I'm going to give you some more freedom today."

"What?!" you exclaim. "You're not letting me go??? You had your fun, why are you keeping me?"

"I had so much fun, I just couldn't turn you loose now." She giggles. "Don't worry, I'll be back to check on you after class."

So, she heads out, leaving you once again helpless, as the sun shines through the windows, you think of how you got in this predicament in the first place.

Sure enough, she returns an hour later.

"Aww, you look so cute like that, but I know you've got to be cold. Tell you what, I'll let you put some boxers on and fix us some lunch." She throws you your boxers, undoes your cuffs and restraints, while being sure to point the gun at you the entire time.

You prepare a couple of sandwiches, which you sit down and eat. While eating, she asks you some questions about yourself, where you're from, what life was like for you. She tells you all about herself. You can't help but wonder where she's going with this.

"Okay, we're finished. Back in the bed," she says. "I need a quickie before my afternoon practice."
Somehow you're completely okay with this. It's almost as if you've developed Stockholm Syndrome and are actually starting to admire your captor.

You climb back in bed. This time she ties you up so you're on your knees with your hands cuffed behind your back and your legs bound together. She squirms in front of you and lays down, wrapping her legs around you pulling you in.

"That's itt... oooo" she coos.

She pulls you in back and forth, meticulously working your cock until her alarm sounds on her phone.

"Whoops! Guess we'll have to finish this later baby."
"Tell you what? To prove I trust you, I'm gonna give you my spare phone. It's locked so it can only call out to me, not even to the police, so don't even get any ideas. But feel free to call me to tell me how much you miss me" She winks again at you.

She ties your legs and leaves one of your hands free again, with the cell phone right in reach, as she turns and heads out the door, locking it once more.