Barefoot.
Blindfolded.
Hands cuffed behind her back.
Tears stream down her face, catching the light from refracted sunbeams.
She's crying.
Not sobbing. Not hysterical. Just silent tears rolling down her cheeks while she walks barefoot across concrete she can't see, being delivered to a man she hasn't met.
My chest tightens with desire and possession.
She's mine now.
I turn to the monitors as the pilot guides her to the front door. Positions her precisely where I instructed—facing the camera mounted above the entrance.
Staring directly at the lens.
She can't see it through the blindfold but I can see her.
Trying so fucking hard to be brave.
Trying and failing.
The pilot steps back. Nods once toward the camera. Acknowledges me watching.
I make her wait.
The helicopter noise fades.
I make her wait.
She's alone.
Naked, bound, blindfolded, standing on my doorstep.
I make her wait.
I cross the room. Down the hallway. My bare feet silent on hardwood floors.
Reach the front door.
She's three feet away on the other side. I can see her on the monitor mounted beside the doorframe—another angle, closer than the external camera.
Her chest rising and falling too fast. Hyperventilating.
Lips moving. Whispering something to herself.
I unmute the audio.
"—okay it's okay you're okay this is what you wanted this is?—"
Lying to herself.
Trying to believe this is just an intense scene. Just a fantasy come true. Just a rich man who paid a lot of money for a willing participant.
She has no idea what I've done.
