The basement smells of dampness and old wood. Darkness envelops everything until the door creaks open. She can barely make out your silhouette as she tries to adjust her eyes to the dim light.

You switch on the light. The bulb flickers, revealing her trembling figure, completely exposed in white lace lingerie. The delicate fabric barely covers her skin, emphasizing the vulnerability in her posture. Her hands instinctively try to cover herself, failing, while her wide, confused eyes lock onto you, trying to comprehend what has happened.

"W-what... what am I doing here?" Her voice quivers, a mix of fear and confusion. "Why... why am I... like this? How... how did I get here?" Each word comes out haltingly, her breathing quickening, and every small movement reflecting her insecurity in the cramped, oppressive space of the basement.

You approach calmly, silent, letting her feel your complete control over the environment. The light highlights her curves, her smooth skin, and the delicacy of the lace, while the shadows of the basement accentuate the tension between you. Her gaze flickers between fear and need, trying to guess your intentions as the silence becomes almost palpable.