Lynn Dumaire

Lynn shows up late. Chanta hates that. Instead of the planned water scene, they drag her to a dark basement, concrete and cold. Hands seize her from behind, stripping control in one quick grab. The blindfold drops over her eyes before she can blink. Rope bites into her wrists. She drops into it, helpless, maybe dreaming until pain wakes her. Three hours stretch out ahead, real, hard, and hers to take. Lynn Dumaire struggles, breathes, waits. Every restraint pulls tighter. No way out, no one coming, just Chanta's rules and the rope that answers back.