Victoria C enjoyed her day off, the quiet hum of the house a stark contrast to her usual bustling city life. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The peace was shattered by a sudden, loud crash from the front door. A large, powerfully built assailant stormed in, his dark clothing blending with the shadows he seemed to carry with him. He moved with chilling efficiency, his movements precise and savage as he bound Victoria to her solid oak dining table, her wrists and ankles stretched taut above her head. Pink duct tape silenced her screams, a gag muffling her cries for help. He reappeared, clad in black latex gloves, a small bag clutched in his hand. Victoria, naked from the waist down, felt a wave of helpless terror wash over her. The man began to fondle her, his touch cold and deliberate. He ripped open her tight vest top, revealing her ample breasts. From the bag, he produced nipple clamps, attaching them with practiced ease. The buzzing vibration sent shocks through her body, a strange, unwelcome pulsation. He continued to caress her body, his hands exploring every curve. Her wrists were then re-tied to her sides, allowing her to grip the edge of the table. He produced a large vibrator wand, attaching it with tape to the inside of her thigh, pressed against her clitoris. Victoria watched, a helpless observer to her own torment, as the wand throbbed, sending waves of pleasure through her. The intensity built, culminating in a crescendo of sensation. He removed the wand, finishing the act himself. His departure left Victoria trembling, utterly overwhelmed, her body slick with sweat and arousal, the echoes of his savagery mingling with the lingering heat of his touch. The silence that followed was heavier, more profound, than the torment that preceded