Her shorts were gone; the cold metal of the scissors slid up her side and under her sports bra, then began to cut.
She couldn't plead with him, gagged; she couldn't bargain, or even threaten. If she somehow managed to get free of him, she wouldn't get far without shoes. The tight elastic of her top snapped loose as he finished cutting through one side and moved the scissors to the other. In a moment, it would be gone. She was helpless, stripped and out of options; she could be shocked like cattle whenever he wanted, or tracked down on a whim. She was utterly defeated.
Emma tried very hard not to admit that the thought made her pulse race.
He tossed aside the remains of her bra, and she squirmed under him in nothing but her black cotton panties, socks and steel collar. He took one of her
