Inside THE BONDAGE ROOM:

I began my story of the red rope last week. For the longest time the photographers who had lured me to the location under false pretenses kept snapping pictures of me with a gag in my mouth and my arms bound behind my back. They had made something of an effort to tie the red rope in an intricate pattern around my breasts. At moments I would consider trying to run for the door, but I knew I would never make it past the two of them. After a long while one of them approached me with even more red rope and secured a length of it between my legs which was connected to the ropes across my breasts and the ones binding my hands together behind my back. Then he proceeded to tie my legs together. In the end he left me in what I would describe as a version of a police hog tie with ropes instead of metal cuffs. The two men then continued their silent picture-taking. After a while they were gone and I was left alone in that isolated room. I began to struggle to free myself from the ropes, and to make any type of noise that someone, anyone could hear. It was all to no avail and eventually I passed out. At some point later on one of them must have returned for me because I woke up in the backseat of my own car clad only in the black mesh dress and shiny black pumps. The red ropes were gone.

-- XXOO Tanya