<span style="color: #FF0000"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Deanna Planckard</span><br/>Doc</div></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/cf4f88a7-5914-46da-ad6e-12ec40e1b0fb_zpscd5280b6.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Deanna did as ordered, laying down on the bed. When Sintrina returned to her side with handcuffs and a bar, Deanna swallowed hard. She had dreamed of it, of being a helpless victim to the Queen's lust, but she still feared that it may be a trap. That she would wake up tomorrow and would find herself in a slave quarter, a helpless puppet to the drugs Kira had developped. Her hands got fixed to the top of the bed and Sintrina's hands moved over her body, making her giddy. She felt her grabbing the ankles and then her legs were fixed too. She felt vulnerable, very vulnerable.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80BF00">"Pull on the restraints, Deanna...."</span>, Deanna tried to pull, but there was no movement, none at all. She felt panic rise in her and she tried to breathe calmly to fight it. <span style="color: #80BF00">"Do you like this so far, pet? Do you like being so vulnerable?"</span> Deanna nodded and swallowed again hard. She could feel that she got wet, that the look of Sintrina with her stilettos and her jewels and this cold face turned her own. No, it was the fear that turned her on. <span style="color: #FF8000">"I fear you..."</span> It was the truth and still Deanna felt silly for blubbering that out. Shouldn't she try to appear strong, controlled? But she wasn't, she was trembling full of fear. Two fingers touched her nipple and pinched it. She gasped of the pain and a tear appeared in her eye.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80BF00">"How should i use you today, Deanna? After you've been so very naughty..."</span><br/><br/>Deanna had to swallow three times before the lump in her throat was halfway gone and she was able to answer. She feared Sintrina, feared her anger and her revenge, she wanted to be treated gentle, soft, full of love. She wanted to feel warm and tenderness. Deanna opened her mouth to plead for it, but her mouth formed other words, words that made her wonder if she was crazy now, if she was shizophrenic. This couldn't be her...<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">„I have sinned, my Queen. I am nothing than a little bug in your hands. I have to repent. I will repent, make the sentence fit the crime. I am yours to humiliate me...“</span> Deanna's words had been firm, but her body went rigid and her eyes were like saucers, pleading at the Queen. A silent plea not to believe those words, not to be so hard, to take it easy on her. <br/><br/>Deanna watched the Queen mounting the bed. She stood up, her body towering over her. Deanna had a free view on the shiny stripe of wetness below that small patch of hair, on the underside of the breasts and on the cold, dominant look full of lust in Sintrina's face. One of the stilettos moved over her body, the heel scraping over her skin. It left a little red track from her throat over the breasts and the belly to her center.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Noooo, not there..."</span><br/><br/>Deanna's voice was pleading, but her body betrayed her. A drop of fluid found its way out of her slit and rolled down slowly over the gap of her ass. To be so helpless, to be a victim to the wicked ideas of the Queen, it made her fluids boil in her belly.</div>