Say My Name

The morning started like every morning had since she'd been taken. Emilia was dreaming when she felt the first trickle of awareness; a touch skimming along her body, bringing with it feelings of both arousal and anxiety. Before she was even truly awake, her lips had parted with a gasp, her nipples had hardened, and she was wet and ready. It was almost a Pavlovian response.

She'd studied the history of astronomy before she'd found a passion for Art History, the two went surprisingly well together, and she knew what was wrong with her. There was a name for what she was experiencing, but knowing that didn't seem to lessen the impact at all.

It was called Stockholm's Syndrome.

But that didn't stop her from moaning, from spreading her legs even wider than the hard hands on her inner thighs pressed her to. Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes adjusted to the light. The swipe of a tongue up the center of her pussy made her moan again as her hips rolled, her half-asleep body easily manipulated