There is more build up to this section, but I hope it stands well on its own.
Please feel free to comment:
Myrna’s fear spiked as the sounds from the room behind her stopped. Her dread built for what seemed an eternity, but was probably only moments. Waiting in the darkness, she had determined to fight the only way she knew how, but when the door behind her finally ground open on rusted runners she had quite reached a peak of fear, and couldn’t regain the composure she needed to find the mental escape of her training.
She could hear a man breathing, even over her own elevated respiration. Myrna repeatedly checked the urge to try and turn to face her captor. If she knew a face, they would be less likely to let her live.
Another lengthy, agonizing wait, the only sound their shared breathing.
“You’re quite the specimen, Miss Graves,” her captor said, now very close. She hadn’t heard his approach, but Myrna recognized the voice of the man who’d drugged her. While his appreciation of her naked body was no surprise, the clinical detachment of his tone was more frightening than anything he might have said. His voice held none of the lust that Yusuf and her other paramours tried to suppress during their games.
“What, no response?”
Not knowing what to do, and the gag preventing any coherent speech, she writhed in helpless fear.
His voice was very close now, “Myrna, Myrna, I don’t want to fuck you, I just want you to confirm a few things for me.”
“Iwelmpwnyting,” Myrna said, desperate for him to know she would tell him anything and everything.
He ignored her words, running a finger along the flesh of her upper arm and down along her ribcage to her waist.
She jumped at the contact, nearly wet herself.
He withdrew the touch, “Such firm resistance, from a plaything such as yourself? I hadn’t thought you would offer any.”
“Nrmph,” she tried to tell him, the denial turning to a wordless scream as he cut her.