Valentine
Valentine I The chair was uncomfortable, high backed like a dining chair with elegantly carved arms but made of some kind of dark, cast metal. The cold of the cushion-less seat bit into the flesh of her bottom and thighs hungrily. Goosebumps were erect all over her body. Even colder were her equally bare wrists and ankles, shackled with heavy steel cuffs to the arms and legs of the chair almost symbiotically for there was not one inch of room to maneuver. For extra protection, a large chain...