Clarity

Marty ties Clarity. She gets shackled, then tied tightly in a number of poses. Metal bites. Rope burns. Her mouth fills with the ball gag, thick leather straps yanked snug behind her head. Chains rattle as her arms pull back, chest thrust forward, every joint stretched. He works fast, no wasted motion. Each knot bites deeper. Her breath shortens, eyes wide, drool already slick on her chin. She strains, muscles shaking, caught between the next pull and the last. Sweat beads on her skin. The rope creaks. The gag holds. She breathes through her nose, forced into silence, every nerve screaming at once. He watches. She waits. Nothing left to hide.