Hands tied behind your back, kneeling. Squatting behind you she grabs you, her head next to yours, just close enough for you to feel her breath. One arm pressed tightly around your neck, its hand holding a knife pressed onto your throat. The other hand pushes you, pushes that hole-carrying head of yours against the one in front of you, not letting go. No, not just with crude roughness and speed. She wants you to feel it, to let every single sense of control sink into your brain while she forces you to please the other one. And so you feel it. Cold, sharp blade. Tight restraints. Pressure. Breath. Electrifying touch as another hand is put on your head. Look up into eyes No escape.