I let her move off, she won't go far.The dance floor is open in front of me without her pixie presence. I realise that I'm being watched, scrutinised,...visually tasted. A couple are dancing entwined, his hands cupping her breasts, discussing me. I look into her eyes and I'm lost. She is a tiny, petite, brunette and has a harshness to her face that suggests she takes no prisoners, veiled under dark sultry eyes. She smiles slowly, knowing I will come to her.I join them in three strides and with no. And right around the moment when I realized what was going on, he held a knife to my cheek. ?If you dare scream for help, I?ll slice your throat? He threatened. And tied my arms behind my back with what seemed to be flexi cuffs. ?Please? I managed to squeal out. He chuckled. ?You?d make this so much easier if you shut up? He said as he roughly tied a damp rag around my mouth. I tried to speak, and he chuckled. ?If I were you, I?d focus on breathing not being a bitch? he said taking a big chunk. More

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