[AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know how it's written, but your muse is paralyzed from the neck down. There are no actual physical restraints. Imhaa used magic to make it so your muse wouldn't be able to move, but they'd still be able to feel everything. Sorry for any confusion!]

Your muse wakes up on their back atop a metallic, cold table with the sensation of not being able to move anything except for their head, eyes, and mouth. There were no restraints or anything that would restrict their movement, but it was like some invisible force was keeping them from moving. The reason behind why they were so cold was then quickly revealed: someone or something had taken all of their clothes.

Before any more realizations or observations could be made, a soft, fuzzy hand began to stroke their cheek from behind. "Hiya, my little playmate," whispered a playful, almost cartoony voice, "it's time to play... are ya ready, friend?"