Trunklined

The cramped space smelled of oil and grease. Though she knew her efforts were futile Aria struggled to free herself. The gag on her mouth made sure every sound she made came off as hums or moans. She strained so hard against the bonds that were tied snugly around her wrist and ankles. The blindfold placed over her eyes made sure no light penetrated, made sure she would not discern any outlines or patterns or shapes. All she knew was it was hot, she was moving and there was not much activity where she was being taken.