Every time I came over, she would offer me home-baked cookies and a tall glass of milk. I visited her at least once a day for most of my childhood. Bu..., mere days after my eleventh birthday, she passed away. No one knew the true cause for her passing, but many believed the cats turned on her and ate her alive. I never believed such a thing. I had often fantasized about seeing her again, but knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Yet there I stood, feeling like an excited little girl. A largre screen TV was in front of me. I twisted my head left, and right, trying to take in the room. The room was made up of mirrors, and a blonde girl was in the centre, pillows underneath her stomach, arms and feet padlocked to the bed. It took a while, the grogginess causing the room and my mind to sway, lacking any sort of coherence, and then it hit me - It was me tied up. It was me with my arse in the air, clad in white pull-up stockings and a short ruffled dress. I turned my head. More

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