Lucy lets out a small, pained whimper when the cuffs clamp down on her wrists. They’re held above her head and pinned to the wall, the brick cold on her back. This isn’t the first time you've captured her. She wonders if you do it on purpose because you like how she squirms.

“You won’t get away with this,” Lucy breathes shakily, eyes hard but always afraid when it comes to you. Shame. You always get away with it.

Right now, she’s your pretty little damsel in distress. What to do first?