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I took a panic wracked moment, not sure what to do. I began to takemental inventory of my body, feeling strange tightness everywhere,especially around my torso. The methodic breathing I tried to calm myselfdown didn't help because of whatever was over my face making it sound sostrange, but I eventually got to the point where I could take stock.My arms were tightly bound behind me and my hands balled into fists Icouldn't open: my feet were forced to some odd angle by something, and itfelt like my ankles and thighs had been bound together. My entire bodyfelt like I was in a sleeping bag or something, which by the tension init, was suspended from something behind my head, a hook maybe, so that myfeet couldn't touch the floor.My mental exploration was interrupted by the sound of a door openingsomewhere nearby and girls laughter. With all my might I began to thrashand scream, clattering whatever was on my face against whatever I couldand swinging my feet back and forth into anything and. Sometimes, she gave in and let it win just to feel the stimulation turn to masturbation and the masturbation turn to orgasm, but not this time, not this memory. The effect pressed at her for what seemed like an eternity, but Beth fought back just as hard. Finally, it receded. For a moment, Beth became aware of herself in the chair, soaked in sweat, muscles aching. Then she was somewhere else again. Seventeen, on a vacation to Cape Cod. She recognized the boy she was with, Seth…she shrugged in the depths of her own mind. She could afford to lose Seth. She only had so much energy, and the chair always had more. Every day, it eroded a little more of her. All she could do was hold onto the important things. She still fought some, though. She couldn’t help herself. She kept the tendrils away from the scent of the sea air, the sight of a lighthouse in the fog. Not the most important details, but it was the principle. She never wanted them to think she’d given up. She remembered (really.
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