Rae accepts her fate

The chain linking her wrists to the chair clinks softly in the otherwise silent room as Sandra climbs meekly to her feet. "Please, Mister ..." her voice is throaty and low, but you can hear her clearly enough. Sandra's eyes are sparkling with excitement as she throws herself into the role of the Priestess of Saint Cuthbert. "Please don't do this..." Sandra's characterization is so good that it is impossible not to visualize her innocent cleric in this perilous predicament.

"The burly guard just laughs at Rae's **** plea for mercy." You explain, and then in a major breach of Dungeons and Dragons norms you reach around her waist and pull her slowly to you, demonstrating what is happening to her character instead of just describing it. "He pulls the trembling cleric against his hard, muscular body ... and his hands move over her lush figure just like the Bailiff's had earlier." Again, as you speak, your hands are doing just that; they slide slowly up and down her back until you work up the nerve to cup her ass and squeeze.

"At least Rae has some clothes on this time." Sandra gasps softly, obviously having as much trouble keeping her cool as you are.

"Sadly," you dampen her hopes with brutal honesty, "Rae's skimpy undergarments are next to useless to protect her modesty." As if to demonstrate how easy it would be, you slide your hand into the cup of her bra and fondle the plump globe. Sandra moans softly, and then confirms that her reaction is much like the lawful good character she plays.

"Rae closes her eyes and tries to suppress the feeling of pleasure that comes with the shame." As Sandra speaks, you can feel the bud of her nipple tighten into a hard button and her breathing is coming out in short gasps. This isn't right. You should stop. Vivian is going to kill you. Oh fuck it!

"By now there are three other guards yelling obscenities through the bars of your cell, and even some of the other prisoners are watching with undisguised interest as the guard pushes you up against the rough stonework wall." You don't have a convenient dungeon wall, but you pin Sandra against the bookshelf behind your chair and wedge your knee between her thighs.

"Oh no!" Sandra whispers softly, "Is he going to **** her?"

"No." You are quick to assure her that that wasn't going to happen. "The guard can't risk defiling Rae because so many witnesses were there when the Bailiff inspected her and announced his findings." Sandra's moan is mostly one of relief, but is there also something else? "But that doesn't mean he can't use her in other ways..." You leave the words dangling like Millikan's oil drop as you slowly release her soft tit and pull her blouse back into place.

"I know, Stephen." Sandra's chained wrists rest on your chest, and you wonder if she can feel how hard your heart is beating. "As big as he is, and with Rae's hands chained like this there's not much she could do to stop him." Her eyes lift to meet yours before dropping once again as she breathes out a suggestion that you can just barely hear. "Although, if he fastened her arms behind her back or up over her head, she'd be completely helpless. That brutal thug would have unrestricted access to her breasts and vagina; he could do almost anything." Between her texts last night, the drawings in her notebook and this, you are pretty sure that she's making a suggestion, but you have to be certain.

"Is that what you want me to do?" You take her hands in yours and run your thumb over the heavy black links around her wrists. "Maybe we should get these off. Binding you like this was probably a mistake."