Her wrists and ankles hogtied. Her elbows yanked together, hard and touching. Ballgagged. Alone in the room. She could struggle, even make those whimpering sounds. But no one would come to rescue her. At least not now. She didn't know why he did this; she must have done something wrong. But she didn't know what it was. He didn't tell her. All she could do was was; maybe she could figure out what it was. She had to do that. So she could do it again. Soon.
