USER: Write an alternate scene based on the following story: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting slowly against each other, her smooth, stocking c...

USER: Write an alternateRewrite the following scene based on the following story:with a tranquilizer dart knockout: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting slowly against each other, her smooth, stocking covered thighs caressing each other gently as she struggled. "Have...to do something...what would he do?" The answer was: improvise. Clara didn't have to look long, as it happened. Her answer was already in her left hand. Summoning what strength she could, Clara hurled the remote backwards, and she heard a satisfying thwack as it struck her attacker in the head. "Aah!" The woman's grip loosened for just a split second, but it was enough for Clara to wriggle free. She leapt to her feet, and started to run towards her front door. "Hah! Bit smarter than you thought I was, eh?" But Clara hadn't been quick enough. Her body had already been affected by the chloroform fumes, and her sudden leap up made her go from mildly dizzy to very light headed. "Unnhh..." she moaned, stumbling against a wall. She held herself up, feeling herself growing weak at the knees. "Unnhh...have to...keep...going..." She tried to start moving again, but she'd paused for too long. She felt strong, leather-clad hands gripping her by the shoulders. The weakened brunette was spun around, shoved hard against the wall, and once again had the thick, damp cloth pressed over her nose and her soft lips. "Mmmmphhh!" she moaned, hazel eyes going wide. "Mmmmhhhhbbbhhhmmmhhh..." Clara's eyes didn't stay wide. As they began to sink shut, they looked forward at the woman who had made Clara so weak. She was tall, and thin, but Clara couldn't tell anything more than that, as she was clad head-to-toe in black, with a gas mask over her face. She only saw a flash of blue beneath the mask's goggles. "Sleep, Clara," her assailant said, in an American accent. The voice was too deep for a woman's - it was being electronically altered by her mask. "Stop fighting. It's over, now." "Mhhhh....mmhhhhnnn..." Clara mewed. Her arms were flat at her sides, her legs trembling, but otherwise motionless. "I'm...so weak...I can't move an inch..." the maiden thought. "I'm...being captured so easily..." She stared straight forward, her pretty eyes fluttering open and shut. "Mmmmmphhh...mmmpphhhh..." she whimpered, each soft moan bringing with it a gentle undulation to her body, as if the weakness was flowing down her in waves. Each breath of chloroform brought her closer and closer to the brink of passing out, and she was already completely limp. Had she not been pressed tightly against the wall by her captor, she'd have sunk to her knees. "That's it, my darling," Clara's captor said. She began stroking her victim's cheek. "Such a...soft girl," she said. "Sleep, my love. Sleep..." "Mmmmmmnnhhh..." Clara whimpered, blushing brightly at the embarrassment of being manhandled and captured so easily. She'd been told to sleep, and that was exactly what she was about to do. The confident, assertive young lady who'd stood up to gods and monsters, had been turned into a meek, obedient damsel-in-distress by one woman with a drugged cloth. "I can't...I can't do anything...too weak..." Clara thought. "Wh...why am I...so...helpless...?" With that question in her mind, the beautiful brunette gave in completely, her wide, round eyes falling shut, her head falling limply against her right shoulder. Clara's captor held the cloth in place for a few moments to make sure that her pretty captive was completely unconscious. When she was sure, she removed it, revealing Clara's slightly open mouth, her lips wet from the drugged cloth. "How lucky for me," the woman thought, "that this time-traveller happens to be so damned cute..." The woman gently tucked her arm under the small of Clara's back, and her other arm behind Clara's knees. With one swift movement, she hoisted Clara into her arms, carrying her like a captive princess. She enjoyed the feeling of the maiden's smooth, thinly-covered legs in her hand, especially since the hem of her dress slipped back quite some way as she was carried. Indeed, the entire sensation of carrying the helpless beauty was greatly pleasurable. She walked slowly, enjoying every moment of having the sleeping damsel limp and soft in her arms. She carried her prize to Clara's sofa, where she put her down in a sitting position, her head resting gently against the back of the sofa, her hands placed in her lap. Clara's face, asleep, had a touch of the angelic to it, and she looked decidedly meek and innocent in her drugged slumber. Leaving Clara for a moment, the woman retrieved a backpack she'd left where she'd been hiding, and took out some long, thin, polyester straps, similar to seat-belts. She went back over to her obediently waiting captive, and gently eased her forward, Clara's head lolling in the same direction. Her captor then placed one of the straps around her, just below her breasts. She tightened it, and Clara's upper arms were pulled against her body with exceptional strictness, the strap locked in place with an adjustable toggle. Clara was pushed even further forward, until her head was almost resting against her knees. Her captor took Clara's forearms, and folded them behind her back, before securing them together with another strap, fixing Clara's arms into a box-tie. The intruder tightened it off, until it made a definite impression in Clara's skin. There was so much of the length of the strap left, that the intruder wrapped it a few more times around Clara's wrists, just to make sure that she couldn't free her arms. For good measure, she tied a third strap beneath Clara's breasts as well, making her arms more or less impossible to move, and accentuating Clara's bosom to boot. With her upper body bound, Clara was eased back against the couch, her head falling back to show off her slender neck. But it wasn't her neck that the intruder was interested in. Clara's slender, stocking-clad legs were next to feel the bite of the tight, black straps. Her silky thighs were forced against each other by a strap tied just above her knees. The intruder smiled at seeing Clara become so tightly restrained. She slowly ran her hands over Clara's legs, down her thighs, over her supple calves, down to her stocking-clad feet. Clara mewed softly in her sleep, as if aware that she was being touched. But whatever awareness she might or might not have had, it didn't help her. The process of binding Clara was completed by a strap being tied around her ankles, tying them together, and fixing her legs so tightly that they were only possible to move as one limb. The intruder stood back to admire her handiwork. "KO'd, trussed up and oh so pretty..." the intruder said. "And you're all mine." She went to her bound captive, and took her by the shoulders, lifting her up into a standing position. The petite damsel's head fell against her tall captor's chest, Clara now completely helpless in her captor's grip. Hands wandered down the contours of her body to her hips and thighs. Then, at the same time, Clara's captor bent down, and lifted her captive up. The slumbering brunette flopped over the intruder's shoulder, who stood back up with her gorgeous captive now slung over her. "Let's get you out of here, Clara," the brunette's captor said, stroking Clara's legs as she carried her, her short dress doing little to protect her. Her captor's hands, as they held the sleeping maiden in place, even slipped under Clara's skirt, feeling the warm, soft skin of her thighs which her stockings didn't reach. She even slapped her hand against Clara's tight, round behind. The maiden gave a slight moan, but didn't so much as writhe. "She really is mine..."

USER: RewriteContinue the following scene with a tranquilizer dart knockout:in the same style, where clara wakes up barefoot and is knocked out again: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting slowly against each other, her smooth, stocking covered thighs caressing each other gently as she struggled. "Have...to do something...what would he do?" The answer was: improvise. Clara didn't have to look long, as it happened. Her answer was already in her left hand. Summoning what strength she could, Clara hurled the remote backwards, and she heard a satisfying thwack as it struck her attacker in the head. "Aah!" The woman's grip loosened for just a split second, but it was enough for Clara to wriggle free. She leapt to her feet, and started to run towards her front door. "Hah! Bit smarter than you thought I was, eh?" But Clara hadn't been quick enough. Her body had already been affected by the chloroform fumes, and her sudden leap up made her go from mildly dizzy to very light headed. "Unnhh..." she moaned, stumbling against a wall. She held herself up, feeling herself growing weak at the knees. "Unnhh...have to...keep...going..." She tried to start moving again, but she'd paused for too long. She felt strong, leather-clad hands gripping her by the shoulders. The weakened brunette was spun around, shoved hard against the wall, and once again had the thick, damp cloth pressed over her nose and her soft lips. "Mmmmphhh!" she moaned, hazel eyes going wide. "Mmmmhhhhbbbhhhmmmhhh..." Clara's eyes didn't stay wide. As they began to sink shut, they looked forward at the woman who had made Clara so weak. She was tall, and thin, but Clara couldn't tell anything more than that, as she was clad head-to-toe in black, with a gas mask over her face. She only saw a flash of blue beneath the mask's goggles. "Sleep, Clara," her assailant said, in an American accent. The voice was too deep for a woman's - it was being electronically altered by her mask. "Stop fighting. It's over, now." "Mhhhh....mmhhhhnnn..." Clara mewed. Her arms were flat at her sides, her legs trembling, but otherwise motionless. "I'm...so weak...I can't move an inch..." the maiden thought. "I'm...being captured so easily..." She stared straight forward, her pretty eyes fluttering open and shut. "Mmmmmphhh...mmmpphhhh..." she whimpered, each soft moan bringing with it a gentle undulation to her body, as if the weakness was flowing down her in waves. Each breath of chloroform brought her closer and closer to the brink of passing out, and she was already completely limp. Had she not been pressed tightly against the wall by her captor, she'd have sunk to her knees. "That's it, my darling," Clara's captor said. She began stroking her victim's cheek. "Such a...soft girl," she said. "Sleep, my love. Sleep..." "Mmmmmmnnhhh..." Clara whimpered, blushing brightly at the embarrassment of being manhandled and captured so easily. She'd been told to sleep, and that was exactly what she was about to do. The confident, assertive young lady who'd stood up to gods and monsters, had been turned into a meek, obedient damsel-in-distress by one woman with a drugged cloth. "I can't...I can't do anything...too weak..." Clara thought. "Wh...why am I...so...helpless...?" With that question in her mind, the beautiful brunette gave in completely, her wide, round eyes falling shut, her head falling limply against her right shoulder. Clara's captor held the cloth in place for a few moments to make sure that her pretty captive was completely unconscious. When she was sure, she removed it, revealing Clara's slightly open mouth, her lips wet from the drugged cloth. "How lucky for me," the woman thought, "that this time-traveller happens to be so damned cute..." The woman gently tucked her arm under the small of Clara's back, and her other arm behind Clara's knees. With one swift movement, she hoisted Clara into her arms, carrying her like a captive princess. She enjoyed the feeling of the maiden's smooth, thinly-covered legs in her hand, especially since the hem of her dress slipped back quite some way as she was carried. Indeed, the entire sensation of carrying the helpless beauty was greatly pleasurable. She walked slowly, enjoying every moment of having the sleeping damsel limp and soft in her arms. She carried her prize to Clara's sofa, where she put her down in a sitting position, her head resting gently against the back of the sofa, her hands placed in her lap. Clara's face, asleep, had a touch of the angelic to it, and she looked decidedly meek and innocent in her drugged slumber. Leaving Clara for a moment, the woman retrieved a backpack she'd left where she'd been hiding, and took out some long, thin, polyester straps, similar to seat-belts. She went back over to her obediently waiting captive, and gently eased her forward, Clara's head lolling in the same direction. Her captor then placed one of the straps around her, just below her breasts. She tightened it, and Clara's upper arms were pulled against her body with exceptional strictness, the strap locked in place with an adjustable toggle. Clara was pushed even further forward, until her head was almost resting against her knees. Her captor took Clara's forearms, and folded them behind her back, before securing them together with another strap, fixing Clara's arms into a box-tie. The intruder tightened it off, until it made a definite impression in Clara's skin. There was so much of the length of the strap left, that the intruder wrapped it a few more times around Clara's wrists, just to make sure that she couldn't free her arms. For good measure, she tied a third strap beneath Clara's breasts as well, making her arms more or less impossible to move, and accentuating Clara's bosom to boot. With her upper body bound, Clara was eased back against the couch, her head falling back to show off her slender neck. But it wasn't her neck that the intruder was interested in. Clara's slender, stocking-clad legs were next to feel the bite of the tight, black straps. Her silky thighs were forced against each other by a strap tied just above her knees. The intruder smiled at seeing Clara become so tightly restrained. She slowly ran her hands over Clara's legs, down her thighs, over her supple calves, down to her stocking-clad feet. Clara mewed softly in her sleep, as if aware that she was being touched. But whatever awareness she might or might not have had, it didn't help her. The process of binding Clara was completed by a strap being tied around her ankles, tying them together, and fixing her legs so tightly that they were only possible to move as one limb. The intruder stood back to admire her handiwork. "KO'd, trussed up and oh so pretty..." the intruder said. "And you're all mine." She went to her bound captive, and took her by the shoulders, lifting her up into a standing position. The petite damsel's head fell against her tall captor's chest, Clara now completely helpless in her captor's grip. Hands wandered down the contours of her body to her hips and thighs. Then, at the same time, Clara's captor bent down, and lifted her captive up. The slumbering brunette flopped over the intruder's shoulder, who stood back up with her gorgeous captive now slung over her. "Let's get you out of here, Clara," the brunette's captor said, stroking Clara's legs as she carried her, her short dress doing little to protect her. Her captor's hands, as they held the sleeping maiden in place, even slipped under Clara's skirt, feeling the warm, soft skin of her thighs which her stockings didn't reach. She even slapped her hand against Clara's tight, round behind. The maiden gave a slight moan, but didn't so much as writhe. "She really is mine..."

USER: Continue the following scene in the same style, where clara wakes up barefoot and is knocked out again: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting slowly against each other, her smooth, stocking covered thighs caressing each other gently as she struggled. "Have...to do something...what would he do?" The answer was: improvise. Clara didn't have to look long, as it happened. Her answer was already in her left hand. Summoning what strength she could, Clara hurled the remote backwards, and she heard a satisfying thwack as it struck her attacker in the head. "Aah!" The woman's grip loosened for just a split second, but it was enough for Clara to wriggle free. She leapt to her feet, and started to run towards her front door. "Hah! Bit smarter than you thought I was, eh?" But Clara hadn't been quick enough. Her body had already been affected by the chloroform fumes, and her sudden leap up made her go from mildly dizzy to very light headed. "Unnhh..." she moaned, stumbling against a wall. She held herself up, feeling herself growing weak at the knees. "Unnhh...have to...keep...going..." She tried to start moving again, but she'd paused for too long. She felt strong, leather-clad hands gripping her by the shoulders. The weakened brunette was spun around, shoved hard against the wall, and once again had the thick, damp cloth pressed over her nose and her soft lips. "Mmmmphhh!" she moaned, hazel eyes going wide. "Mmmmhhhhbbbhhhmmmhhh..." Clara's eyes didn't stay wide. As they began to sink shut, they looked forward at the woman who had made Clara so weak. She was tall, and thin, but Clara couldn't tell anything more than that, as she was clad head-to-toe in black, with a gas mask over her face. She only saw a flash of blue beneath the mask's goggles. "Sleep, Clara," her assailant said, in an American accent. The voice was too deep for a woman's - it was being electronically altered by her mask. "Stop fighting. It's over, now." "Mhhhh....mmhhhhnnn...""Mhhhh...mmhhhhnnn..." Clara mewed. Her arms were flat at her sides, her legs trembling, but otherwise motionless. "I'm...so weak...I can't move an inch..." the maiden thought. "I'm...being captured so easily..." She stared straight forward, her pretty eyes fluttering open and shut. "Mmmmmphhh...mmmpphhhh..." she whimpered, each soft moan bringing with it a gentle undulation to her body, as if the weakness was flowing down her in waves. Each breath of chloroform brought her closer and closer to the brink of passing out, and she was already completely limp. Had she not been pressed tightly against the wall by her captor, she'd have sunk to her knees. "That's it, my darling," Clara's captor said. She began stroking her victim's cheek. "Such a...soft girl," she said. "Sleep, my love. Sleep..." "Mmmmmmnnhhh..." Clara whimpered, blushing brightly at the embarrassment of being manhandled and captured so easily. She'd been told to sleep, and that was exactly what she was about to do. The confident, assertive young lady who'd stood up to gods and monsters, had been turned into a meek, obedient damsel-in-distress by one woman with a drugged cloth. "I can't...I can't do anything...too weak..." Clara thought. "Wh...why am I...so...helpless...?" With that question in her mind, the beautiful brunette gave in completely, her wide, round eyes falling shut, her head falling limply against her right shoulder. Clara's captor held the cloth in place for a few moments to make sure that her pretty captive was completely unconscious. When she was sure, she removed it, revealing Clara's slightly open mouth, her lips wet from the drugged cloth. "How lucky for me," the woman thought, "that this time-traveller happens to be so damned cute..." The woman gently tucked her arm under the small of Clara's back, and her other arm behind Clara's knees. With one swift movement, she hoisted Clara into her arms, carrying her like a captive princess. She enjoyed the feeling of the maiden's smooth, thinly-covered legs in her hand, especially since the hem of her dress slipped back quite some way as she was carried. Indeed, the entire sensation of carrying the helpless beauty was greatly pleasurable. She walked slowly, enjoying every moment of having the sleeping damsel limp and soft in her arms. She carried her prize to Clara's sofa, where she put her down in a sitting position, her head resting gently against the back of the sofa, her hands placed in her lap. Clara's face, asleep, had a touch of the angelic to it, and she looked decidedly meek and innocent in her drugged slumber. Leaving Clara for a moment, the woman retrieved a backpack she'd left where she'd been hiding, and took out some long, thin, polyester straps, similar to seat-belts. She went back over to her obediently waiting captive, and gently eased her forward, Clara's head lolling in the same direction. Her captor then placed one of the straps around her, just below her breasts. She tightened it, and Clara's upper arms were pulled against her body with exceptional strictness, the strap locked in place with an adjustable toggle. Clara was pushed even further forward, until her head was almost resting against her knees. Her captor took Clara's forearms, and folded them behind her back, before securing them together with another strap, fixing Clara's arms into a box-tie. The intruder tightened it off, until it made a definite impression in Clara's skin. There was so much of the length of the strap left, that the intruder wrapped it a few more times around Clara's wrists, just to make sure that she couldn't free her arms. For good measure, she tied a third strap beneath Clara's breasts as well, making her arms more or less impossible to move, and accentuating Clara's bosom to boot. With her upper body bound, Clara was eased back against the couch, her head falling back to show off her slender neck. But it wasn't her neck that the intruder was interested in. Clara's slender, stocking-clad legs were next to feel the bite of the tight, black straps. Her silky thighs were forced against each other by a strap tied just above her knees. The intruder smiled at seeing Clara become so tightly restrained. She slowly ran her hands over Clara's legs, down her thighs, over her supple calves, down to her stocking-clad feet. Clara mewed softly in her sleep, as if aware that she was being touched. But whatever awareness she might or might not have had, it didn't help her. The process of binding Clara was completed by a strap being tied around her ankles, tying them together, and fixing her legs so tightly that they were only possible to move as one limb. The intruder stood back to admire her handiwork. "KO'd, trussed up and oh so pretty..." the intruder said. "And you're all mine." She went to her bound captive, and took her by the shoulders, lifting her up into a standing position. The petite damsel's head fell against her tall captor's chest, Clara now completely helpless in her captor's grip. Hands wandered down the contours of her body to her hips and thighs. Then, at the same time, Clara's captor bent down, and lifted her captive up. The slumbering brunette flopped over the intruder's shoulder, who stood back up with her gorgeous captive now slung over her. "Let's get you out of here, Clara," the brunette's captor said, stroking Clara's legs as she carried her, her short dress doing little to protect her. Her captor's hands, as they held the sleeping maiden in place, even slipped under Clara's skirt, feeling the warm, soft skin of her thighs which her stockings didn't reach. She even slapped her hand against Clara's tight, round behind. The maiden gave a slight moan, but didn't so much as writhe. "She really is mine..."

USER: Continue the following scene in the same style, where clara wakes up barefoot and is knocked out again: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting ...

USER: Continue the following scene in the same style, where clara wakes up barefoot and is knocked out again:sedated again as she struggles to stay awake: Clara had no idea that she was being stalked. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and picked up the t.v. remote, which was just where she'd left it. In real time, that was a day ago. From her perspective, it had been three months. "I don't even know what time it is," she muttered to herself. "If there's nothing but Jeremy Kyle on, I'll - MMMPHHHH!!" Clara was taken completely by surprise. For a good three seconds, she was so shocked that she didn't even lift her hands to her face. She just sat there, eyes wide, with her mouth and nose covered by a chloroform-soaked cloth. "Someone's trying to knock me out!" she thought at last, finally reaching up a hand to try to get the cloth away. But when one of her hands did reach the wet, soft cloth pressed over her face, she found that she didn't have the strength to pull it away. In the screen of her television she could see a reflection of herself: a beautiful damsel, ambushed and chloroformed. "What? Why is this...happening?!" "MMMMMPHHHHH!!!" she screamed, hoping beyond hope that one of her neighbours would hear her muffled cries. "I don't believe this! Two seconds without the Doctor and I'm already being kidnapped!" An overpoweringly sweet scent was flooding Clara's senses, and she found that her vision was growing foggy. "Mmmmmphhh..." she mewed. "No! I'm getting...weak..." She was right. Her slender legs were shifting slowly against each other, her smooth, stocking covered thighs caressing each other gently as she struggled. "Have...to do something...what would he do?" The answer was: improvise. Clara didn't have to look long, as it happened. Her answer was already in her left hand. Summoning what strength she could, Clara hurled the remote backwards, and she heard a satisfying thwack as it struck her attacker in the head. "Aah!" The woman's grip loosened for just a split second, but it was enough for Clara to wriggle free. She leapt to her feet, and started to run towards her front door. "Hah! Bit smarter than you thought I was, eh?" But Clara hadn't been quick enough. Her body had already been affected by the chloroform fumes, and her sudden leap up made her go from mildly dizzy to very light headed. "Unnhh..." she moaned, stumbling against a wall. She held herself up, feeling herself growing weak at the knees. "Unnhh...have to...keep...going..." She tried to start moving again, but she'd paused for too long. She felt strong, leather-clad hands gripping her by the shoulders. The weakened brunette was spun around, shoved hard against the wall, and once again had the thick, damp cloth pressed over her nose and her soft lips. "Mmmmphhh!" she moaned, hazel eyes going wide. "Mmmmhhhhbbbhhhmmmhhh..." Clara's eyes didn't stay wide. As they began to sink shut, they looked forward at the woman who had made Clara so weak. She was tall, and thin, but Clara couldn't tell anything more than that, as she was clad head-to-toe in black, with a gas mask over her face. She only saw a flash of blue beneath the mask's goggles. "Sleep, Clara," her assailant said, in an American accent. The voice was too deep for a woman's - it was being electronically altered by her mask. "Stop fighting. It's over, now." "Mhhhh...mmhhhhnnn..." Clara mewed. Her arms were flat at her sides, her legs trembling, but otherwise motionless. "I'm...so weak...I can't move an inch..." the maiden thought. "I'm...being captured so easily..." She stared straight forward, her pretty eyes fluttering open and shut. "Mmmmmphhh...mmmpphhhh..." she whimpered, each soft moan bringing with it a gentle undulation to her body, as if the weakness was flowing down her in waves. Each breath of chloroform brought her closer and closer to the brink of passing out, and she was already completely limp. Had she not been pressed tightly against the wall by her captor, she'd have sunk to her knees. "That's it, my darling," Clara's captor said. She began stroking her victim's cheek. "Such a...soft girl," she said. "Sleep, my love. Sleep..." "Mmmmmmnnhhh..." Clara whimpered, blushing brightly at the embarrassment of being manhandled and captured so easily. She'd been told to sleep, and that was exactly what she was about to do. The confident, assertive young lady who'd stood up to gods and monsters, had been turned into a meek, obedient damsel-in-distress by one woman with a drugged cloth. "I can't...I can't do anything...too weak..." Clara thought. "Wh...why am I...so...helpless...?" With that question in her mind, the beautiful brunette gave in completely, her wide, round eyes falling shut, her head falling limply against her right shoulder. Clara's captor held the cloth in place for a few moments to make sure that her pretty captive was completely unconscious. When she was sure, she removed it, revealing Clara's slightly open mouth, her lips wet from the drugged cloth. "How lucky for me," the woman thought, "that this time-traveller happens to be so damned cute..." The woman gently tucked her arm under the small of Clara's back, and her other arm behind Clara's knees. With one swift movement, she hoisted Clara into her arms, carrying her like a captive princess. She enjoyed the feeling of the maiden's smooth, thinly-covered legs in her hand, especially since the hem of her dress slipped back quite some way as she was carried. Indeed, the entire sensation of carrying the helpless beauty was greatly pleasurable. She walked slowly, enjoying every moment of having the sleeping damsel limp and soft in her arms. She carried her prize to Clara's sofa, where she put her down in a sitting position, her head resting gently against the back of the sofa, her hands placed in her lap. Clara's face, asleep, had a touch of the angelic to it, and she looked decidedly meek and innocent in her drugged slumber. Leaving Clara for a moment, the woman retrieved a backpack she'd left where she'd been hiding, and took out some long, thin, polyester straps, similar to seat-belts. She went back over to her obediently waiting captive, and gently eased her forward, Clara's head lolling in the same direction. Her captor then placed one of the straps around her, just below her breasts. She tightened it, and Clara's upper arms were pulled against her body with exceptional strictness, the strap locked in place with an adjustable toggle. Clara was pushed even further forward, until her head was almost resting against her knees. Her captor took Clara's forearms, and folded them behind her back, before securing them together with another strap, fixing Clara's arms into a box-tie. The intruder tightened it off, until it made a definite impression in Clara's skin. There was so much of the length of the strap left, that the intruder wrapped it a few more times around Clara's wrists, just to make sure that she couldn't free her arms. For good measure, she tied a third strap beneath Clara's breasts as well, making her arms more or less impossible to move, and accentuating Clara's bosom to boot. With her upper body bound, Clara was eased back against the couch, her head falling back to show off her slender neck. But it wasn't her neck that the intruder was interested in. Clara's slender, stocking-clad legs were next to feel the bite of the tight, black straps. Her silky thighs were forced against each other by a strap tied just above her knees. The intruder smiled at seeing Clara become so tightly restrained. She slowly ran her hands over Clara's legs, down her thighs, over her supple calves, down to her stocking-clad feet. Clara mewed softly in her sleep, as if aware that she was being touched. But whatever awareness she might or might not have had, it didn't help her. The process of binding Clara was completed by a strap being tied around her ankles, tying them together, and fixing her legs so tightly that they were only possible to move as one limb. The intruder stood back to admire her handiwork. "KO'd, trussed up and oh so pretty..." the intruder said. "And you're all mine." She went to her bound captive, and took her by the shoulders, lifting her up into a standing position. The petite damsel's head fell against her tall captor's chest, Clara now completely helpless in her captor's grip. Hands wandered down the contours of her body to her hips and thighs. Then, at the same time, Clara's captor bent down, and lifted her captive up. The slumbering brunette flopped over the intruder's shoulder, who stood back up with her gorgeous captive now slung over her. "Let's get you out of here, Clara," the brunette's captor said, stroking Clara's legs as she carried her, her short dress doing little to protect her. Her captor's hands, as they held the sleeping maiden in place, even slipped under Clara's skirt, feeling the warm, soft skin of her thighs which her stockings didn't reach. She even slapped her hand against Clara's tight, round behind. The maiden gave a slight moan, but didn't so much as writhe. "She really is mine..."