<span style="color: #FF80FF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span></span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>One moment she was watching a zebra being eaten by some vicious alligator and the next she was being thrown on her bed. She gave a screeched of indignation, but went on to fully panic the moment the cuffs were on her. Carlos grabbed her leg and she began to kick it with all her might, along with her other. She managed a kicked to his face, but Carlos backed up only enough for her to bust his lip. She twisted and turned in vain, her wrists being cut up by the cuffs.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"What the fuck are you doing?" </span>she yelled, trying her best to get away from him, her robe opening in the struggle. She went to take a deep breath to scream, but he covered her mouth and she bit him as hard as she could. Fear had been staved off by the drugs, but now it was winning and tears sprung to her eyes. Just what the hell was he playing at and why the fuck was she starting to like it?