In a rather cold and poorly lit room stood a man in a peculiarly well tailored suit. A rather vintage looking gas mask rested upon his face, glass eye panes tinted and mirrored, almost opaque. Gracing his hands were fine leather gloves, and clutched in the right was a sleek and expensive pistol, barely reflecting the pale fluorescent lights from its black metal. The left carried an aluminum briefcase that almost resonated suspicion. The man was fairly tall and slender, and he waited in front of a metal table in the center of the room. Resting upon this table was an unconscious girl.

	The girl couldn't have been much older than twenty or so. Her hands and legs were chained to the table. The girl had light brown hair that traced down to her shoulders, and her cheeks held the slightest redness from the cold and stale air. A few bruises dotted the areas exposed by the tears in her clothing, desecrating the purity of the soft fabric composing her dress. Stockings covered her legs, tattered by innumerable tiny cuts that still held the tiniest dots of dried blood.

	The man set the briefcase down on the ground next to the table, and the pistol near her face. He walked over to a rusted sink in the corner, where he filled a glass of water. Returning to the girl, he poured the water over her nose and mouth. She began coughing as consciousness faded back to her. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to take in her surroundings. The man slowly began untying his long black tie. The girl turned her head, bringing the pistol into view. Before she could choke out a scream, the man forced his tie into her mouth as a gag. He held his hand over her mouth, the other making a motion to be quiet. Tears began welling up in her eyes, but with another flit at the pistol she nodded her head. He brought the briefcase to bear, and pulled out a small switchblade. He slipped it along her body in all sorts of lines and paths, never quite scratching the surface of the skin or fabric but instead showing a strong degree of finesse.

	She closed her eyes as he hiked up her dress. With ease he sliced the sides of her panties in two, creating tiny nicks right along her hip bones. She flinched with each slice, and the lines faded to a nice beautiful red color. He tossed aside the now ruined pair of underwear, leaving her entirely exposed to the cold. He carefully folded the blade back into the handle and returned it to the briefcase. His fingers delicately swirled the tiny streams of blood that rested upon her hips, slowly making their way towards her thighs. His palms came down slowly, switching to a more massaging motion on her inner thighs. Every so often his thumbs would briefly graze her labia, causing a shiver through her legs. This ramped up in frequency until it was almost entirely him running his fingers across her entire vagina. After a bit of this he focused his attention on her clitoris, causing her entire body to clench with each press. It didn't take long for a thin, sticky residue to anoint his gloves' fingertips.

	Satisfied with his work, he pulled from the briefcase a silver vibrator. Adjusting its power to a nice buzz, he took it and placed it directly upon her clit. She began spasming and shaking, eyes slammed shut as she tried to deal with the intensity of the sensation. This lasted for a few minutes until the waves of orgasm wracked her body. Her leg muscles tensed, and her entire body shook. The force of it brought her hips momentarily in the air above the table. Once the final wave passed, she fell back into a heap. Tears slid down her cheeks, her mind confused as to how the best orgasm she's had in years could have possibly come about in a situation as frightening as this. 

	The man got to work on adjusting the hand and leg restraints, turning a few cranks that slowly flipped the girl over. He pulled her body so she was bent over the side of the table, and put his hands on either of her hips. He squeezed them with determination, and began to undo his belt. She could no longer see the man, but she felt his hands return to her sides. Something prodded at her overstimulated and wet lips, sending small shivers down her spine once again. Suddenly, he forced himself inside her. It was almost too much to bear as he plunged in and out of her, each thrust forcing her against the table. It felt like her insides were on fire as his penis became her only source of warmth in the frigid cell. Without warning, his leather encased hand spanked her with all the force it could. A cherry red handprint would linger long after the intense stinging had passed, as the man was certainly not weak. His thrusts became faster and faster, growing in strength until finally he came deep within her. The warm semen flowed from within her as he slid out, pooling on the table and spilling off the edge. The air was so cool that steam rose from wherever it touched.

	He took a moment to catch his breath, and reaffixed his pants. He turned the cranks, returning her to her initial position, and pulled his tie out of her mouth. With a few swift hand motions, it was retied just as elegant as it had been before. He packed the pistol into the briefcase and walked through the solitary door in the concrete room. Just after he left, a woman in a female business suit entered. Her  long, jet black hair matched her suit perfectly, and she wore a gas mask of a much newer model than the man had, but equally tinted. She brushed some dirt off her pencil skirt, and walked over to the chained up girl. After observing her for a few moments, she slightly unzipped her skirt. She pulled out her underwear from underneath, and stepped up onto a footstool by the table. A quick hiking up planted her directly on the seat of honor, the young girl's face. The woman slid her hips back and forth, grinding upon the girl's mouth. Her thighs gripped the sides of the girl's head, ensuring that she couldn't avoid tasting her pleasure. Each gyration became more and more erratic as the woman slowly began to lose control of her faculties. It wasn't long until her fingers rifled through the girl's hair, forcing her mouth deeper and deeper. The woman became almost hysterical in her vitriolic passion, nearly choking the girl from the lack of air. Fortunately, her tongue had hit just the right spot on the woman, bringing her into an unstoppable orgasm. The woman lifted up from the girl's face, leaking warm fluid all down her chin.

	The woman ran her fingers across the girl's clitoris, bringing her own wetness to bear. Without a chance for protest, the woman forced her wet fingers into the girl's mouth over and over again. So disoriented from the events, she began to lick the fingers passionately. After the woman tired of that, she massaged the girl's clit as fast as possible. It didn't take long for the girl to orgasm again. The woman brushed the girl's hair out of her face, and zipped her skirt up. She left her panties on the table and walked out the door.