The sound of flesh on wood echoes through the space, the wet slapping sending shivers through you as they get closer, echoes becoming deeper and more pronounced, the soft sound of breathing fills the air, you own respiration increasing as you remember the feeling of what had happened the first time you had met a guardian, how the soft thump of flesh being torn into and the burning of metal ripping through your intestines and stomach had felt. It's painfully obvious how scared you are as you think about this guardian and if they're going to be the same or not. whether this guardian is going to tear into you straight away or whether this guardian is going to be more lenient and less violent.
The slap of flesh on wood slows as they approach the door, the sound of your breathing loud in your own ears, Each shaky inhale sending thick waves of fearful sound through the air in an embarrassing display of cowardice and terror. The heavy gold plated door knob twitches as it turns, creaking and rattling as whoever is on the other side attempts to get in but, whether from over excitement or something else, they cant seem to be able to get in. The knob just rattles and turns yet the heavy oak door remains resolute in its immobility.
More rattling, this time soft and metallic (a jingle of keys perhaps). The noise persists for a few seconds before there is a tiny click however, the tiny click is deafening to your ears. The sound symbolises the fact that you couldn't of run even if you wanted to, it symbolises that the guardian has ultimate control on whether you can even leave this room. And that makes you more nervous than with the nurse from the first floor.
The door knob turns smoother, the soft creak deafening as the heavy oak door slowly opens, the bottom of the door scraping audibly in that rich antique way doors of that size do. The edge of a soft hand appears in the crack, The nails painted a soft pink, the hand is pale, fingers gripping the edge of the door in an almost desperate grip as if she's holding herself back.
The door finally opens fully, the silhouette of the guardian stands in the doorway. Figure obscured in shadows for a few seconds before she steps into the large swathe of natural light the window wall lets in. She is taller than you, her hand easily bigger than your own. She must be at least six foot ten. Her large frame is accompanied by an equally endowed hourglass figure.
Her ass is large and plump beneath the tight red dress she's wearing, breasts so big that they threaten to spill out the dangerously low neckline of her dress. Her midriff is muscular despite its thin appearance, the soft peak of abs can be noticed, the dress stretching over them, exposing how muscular she is. And to be hones with her size you wouldn't be surprised if she was stronger than you, as in much stronger, strong enough to pin you and use you if she pleased.
Her breasts jiggle dangerously as she leans forward, walking with seemingly deliberately long strides to cause the large flesh of her chest to sway and jiggle in a motion clearly meant to entrance and capture the eyes of males (and females). Her face is beautiful, cheeks puffed out slightly in a sexy yet strangely dominant way, her lips painted black with lip stick, eyes a deep violet that stares hungrily at you. Her neck is smooth and slightly longer than average as if only to add to her height and dominant air.
Her presence is more dominant than that of the nurse, the nurse seemed to want control while this Guardian seems to crave control, to live and breathe control. She looks like the the type to be a dominatrix that bends over men and breeds them with a dildo. She looks like the type of women that would hold you down while she lubed you up and called you names that only served to remind you that she is stronger, then she would stretch you out in hot, embarrassing and degrading pegging sex.
Her violet eyes flash dangerously as they bare into you, her pupils blowing wide with fresh desire. Her breasts swaying as she continues her dangerous and intimidating walk forwards. One of her smooth legs tenses as she approaches as if anticipating you to dart. It is at this moment that you look down, you were fully clothed on the last floor but on this one, on this one, you have a lack of clothes. Skin bare and slightly paler than usual, lean with some muscle but not too much muscle, your chest rises and falls faster as you continue to make realisations about your clothing situation.
You have non on, you can't see any around you and the word=st part is that you can tell that there isn't anything for you to wear that wouldn't be degrading. The look in her eyes says so. Her thin circles of violet sending silent signals to you; I'll dress you in things that are easy to tear off and bind you with, or things that'll let me use them as handles while I use you. That's the kind of message she is sending you as she approaches slowly. Deliberately trying to draw attention to her chest, her tongue darts out with wicked intent, licking her lips deviously as she stares at your naked flesh.
You draw the covers up in an attempt to shield you body from her perverted and hungry gaze. Her eyes seem to smile as you make yourself less visible, her painted nails glinting as her hands come up to her chin in a contemplative manner. "Such a shy little one," her voice is like steel silk, soft with a razor edge, "let mommy make you feel better little one." Her tongue darts out to lick her lips once more, the sexual energy increasing in that dominant way that her large frame seems to encourage.