I turn my head aside, refusing to lick your fingers. "Fuck you." I say, almost in a whisper as I am a little afraid of what may happen if I anger you.
Now left alone in the van, I watch you enter the cabin. My nipples harden in the cold air. Screw it, I'm not waiting for him to return. I twist and pull at the dental floss around my wrists... until I manage to free a couple of fingers. Good, I just have to yank one hand out of there even if it cuts me. I only hope you stay in the cabin long enough.
With a grunt that I wish you cannot hear, I force my right hand out of my bindings and use it to free my other hand. Now for the ankles, but I find myself constantly checking the windows. You may come back at any second...
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