by Van © 2024
		Chapter 5

Cat greatly resented the way The Evil Brie and The Honorable Brats were exploiting her belated (albeit delicious) breakfast for its personal entertainment value.  Lizzie's dimpled grin as she carefully delivered fork after fork laden with eggs, bacon, bangers, spuds, tomatoes, or black pudding to Cat's pouting mouth was especially irritating.

On the other hand, while it was true Cat's fellow prisoner had her own dining assistance program going in the person of Grace, Poor Prudence seemed significantly less disgusted with her caretaker blonde than Cat was with Grace's cute little sister.

And all the while, Brie simply sat there with a dimpled smile curling the lips of her beautiful but eminently slap-worthy face, sipped her tea, and watched the meal consumption with gloating appreciation.

Not that Cat or Pru had any real choice in the matter, of course.  Naked, tied to their dining room chairs, and with shock collars locked around their necks, the captive diners' only alternative to acquiescence (sullen or otherwise) was to roundly admonish their handlers (especially Brie) by calling them rude names, protesting their detestable treatment, and threatening some unspecified, dire, and highly unlikely retaliation.  That was inadvisable, of course, because they'd be instantly punished by their shock collars—assuming, of course, that the horrid things were turned on (meaning the collars).  Granted, hypothetical tirades would provide a practical test of the power status and effectiveness of the cruel devices, but Cat would just as soon continue putting that off for as long as possible.  She continued chewing and swallowing the delicious food instead, doing her best to ignore Lizzie's perky demeanor and youthful beauty as the petite villainess presented her with fork-load after fork-load.

Eventually, all plates are emptied and all yummy but humiliating repasts come to an end, and Cat and Pru's belated breakfasts were no exception.  When the last of the food was in their stomachs and the last of the tea slurped, Grace and Lizzie freed the pouting prisoners from their chairs.  Then, at Brie's direction, the sisters sealed their charges' lips with broad, wide strips of Elastoplast tape!  (It occurred to Cat that every room in Amberdale Castle seemed to be equipped with everything needed to tape-gag Her Ladyship's visitors, which was... odd.)

Why these specific tape-gags? Cat silently demanded.  It was cruel and totally unnecessary!  They were already silenced by the threat of electric chastisement if they even attempted to speak!  Cat decided the superfluous strips of tape had been applied for three distinct reasons:

1.  The Honorable Brats were a pair of total tossers (even if they were just following the Disciplinarian-of-the-Day's orders);

2.  The Evil Brie's propensity for excessive and redundant restraint was as limitless as it was reprehensible, and...

3.  The same went for the blue-eyed brunette's appetite for gleeful gloating.

Cat and Pru exchanged naked, box-tied, shock-collared, and now tape-gagged sighs, then "allowed" themselves to be led from the dining room.  They almost immediately passed from the family side of the castle and into the more spartan servants' maze/labyrinth... and were eventually "dragged" into a large and vaguely institutional combination shower, bath, and locker room.  The Brats planted their butts on commodes and encouraged them to relieve themselves with vague threats implying unspecified forms of flagellation.  The naked, bound, collared, and tape-gagged captives managed to complete their assigned tasks... then Lizzie led Cat to the side and, with her leash still clutched in the smiling youngster's hand, they watched as Grace untied Pru's box-tie... completely.

"Take a shower," Brie ordered with a smile.  She was addressing Pru, of course.  "And use plenty of soap.  You need it.  You're ripe."

Naked, shock-collared, and tape-gagged, Pru glared at Brie, then stomped (padded) to the shower area and followed their Chief Handler's order.

Cat assumed the shock collars were 100% waterproof... meaning she desperately hoped they were waterproof, for Pru's sake!  Apparently (and fortunately), they were... meaning 100% water and soap proof.  Over the course of the next five minutes Pru's collar had plenty of opportunity to short out and zap Poor Prudence into oblivion as she thoroughly scrubbed herself clean with a soapy washcloth... but it didn't.  That is, the collar didn't zap her.

Next, Grace tossed Pru a fluffy white towel and they all continued watching as she dried her smooth, firm, clean, flushed, naked body, collared neck, face, and hair.  Pru then tossed (meaning scowled and forcefully threw) the damp towel to (at) Grace, who smiled and caught it easily.  Pru then stomped (padded) to a row of washbasins and mirrors, picked up a hairbrush, and used it to transform her still slightly damp hair from a spiky mess into her usual stylishly tousled mop... then lifted a toothbrush still in its packaging, turned, and glared at Brie.

Brie smiled back for a few seconds... then nodded, granting permission.

Pru removed the toothbrush from its packaging, turned to the mirror, teased back a corner of her tape-gag, then slowly, carefully peeled it from her lower face.  As expected, the strip stretched her skin and lips as it reluctantly surrendered its adhesive grip.  (Cat thought tape removal was very sexy, at least when it was happening to Pru.  She always had.)  Pru then loaded the toothbrush with paste and brushed her teeth, taking her time and doing a thorough job.  Cat thought that was also sexy as it gave her a nice, leisurely oportunity to ogle Pru's firm butt.  Unfortunately, it also made Cat realize that her own teeth needed brushing.  She resolved to lobby for a chance to exercise proper dental hygiene at her first opportunity.  Finally, Pru spat into the sink, rinsed out her mouth, then rinsed and placed the used toothbrush on the shelf where she'd found it.  She then faced Brie, placed her hands on her hips, and scowled.

Brie gestured (gracefully) towards a locker on the opposite side of the space.  "Time to get you dressed," she announced.  "Hands on top of your head like a good little naughty maid."

Still glowering, Pru stomped (padded) to the locker in question with Brie following and smiling her trademark sinister smile.

Cat, Lizzie, and Grace remained where they were and continued being interested spectators.

'Good naughty maid?' Cat wondered... then the probable truth dawned.  Oh, that's right.  Lady Paulina sentenced us to what she called 'alternate parole,' one doing 'domestic service' while the other acts as a hostage to her good behavior.  If Brie's calling Pru a 'maid,' I guess that makes me the hostage.  Cat heaved a tape-gagged and shock-collared sigh.  The prospect of being held hostage to Pru's good behavior was somewhat... ominous.  Maybe I've got the whole arrangement wrong, she thought.  We'll see.

Meanwhile, Pru and Brie had arrived at the locker.  As ordered, Pru assumed the position and stood with her hands atop her head and her bare feet about 18" apart.  Brie produced a key and opened the cabinet, which, by the way, was larger and sturdier than the nearby row of tall, narrow, traditional locker room lockers.  It was a hefty supply cabinet.

Brie pulled open a large drawer, reached inside, and produced...  Cat's eyes popped wide and she almost forgot she was wearing the shock collar and almost conducted the long-avoided test of said collar!

Held on display in the strong, graceful hands of The Evil Brie was a medieval chastity belt!  It was obviously steel, but not shiny stainless steel, and while it appeared to have been constructed using modern methods, it wasn't your usual elegantly modern sex-toy.  Cat revised her initial categorization and decided the thing was...  Late Renaissance?  Victorian/Edwardian?  Anyway, it was utilitarian, meaning it lacked engraving, embossing, or any other form of decoration, and while it didn't appear to be overly heavy, it was quite obviously solidly constructed, anything but flimsy.

Pru maintained a brave posture, staring into infinity in sullen, defiant resignation.

Cat blinking in alarm (and/or intrigued excitement). stole a glance at her handler, and noted Grace's lips were curled in her own version of The Evil Brie's wicked smile.  Lizzie, however, was shuddering in... delicious dread?  Maybe the youngster had personal experience with such devices.  Anyway...

Brie fit the horizontal belt around Pru's waist, pulled the vertical hinged-in-the-back crotch-panel in the back up and in place between Pru's legs until it was snugged in place against Poor Prudence's Pussy, then deftly snapped the pieces together in front, just under Pru's bellybutton.  She then reached back into the drawer, produced a small but hefty padlock, and clicked it through the belt's hasp!  The dastardly deed was done!  Pru's pussy was now intimately incarcerated in hoo-haw-hugging and butt-crack-cleaving cold (meaning room temperature) steel!

Pru remained outwardly indifferent to the presence of the new accessory solidly girding her loins.

The Evil Brie continued being nefarious and amused.

The Honorable Brats continued smiling as well (with Lizzie also continuing to shudder in apparent ambivalent appreciation).

Cat remained blinking in alarm (with a definite undercurrent of aroused admiration).  Poor Pussy Punished Prudence was hot!  The belt was more-or-less a perfect fit, and while arguably of modern design and manufacture, still stylistically adhered to Amberdale Castle's medieval ambiance.

Grace leaned close and spoke into Cat's nearest ear.  "Naughty maids aren't allowed to pleasure themselves," she explained in a quiet purr.

"I hate those things," Lizzie sighed.

"We all hate those things," Grace responded.  "Even Brie."

"She hates wearing them," Lizzie muttered, "but she likes making other people wear them."

"It's your own fault for being such a rambunctious randy rascal," Grace chuckled.

"Keep your annoying attempts at alliteration to yourself," Lizzie huffed.

Anyway, Cat's suspicion that Lizzie had personal experience with steel-enforced chastity was confirmed... and, apparently, the same went for her big sister and The Evil Brie!  Go figure.  The exchange also more-or-less confirmed Pru's and her own status with respect to the maid/hostage issue.

Anyway... Cat feared she was the prisoner of an experienced band of kinky deviants!  But then, she'd known that would be the case before coming to the castle, right?  She had no justification for being either surprised or outraged.  That said, she felt perfectly justified being both disconcerted and indignant.  It was a matter of... nuisance.

Meanwhile, Brie had closed and locked the cabinet door, turned and strolled to a wide wardrobe next to the row of lockers, and opened its double doors.

"Don't stand there like a mostly naked simpleton," Brie scolded Pru, "drag your disobedient arse over here and get dressed."

Even from across the room Cat could see that the wardrobe held a long row of black and white maid's uniforms hanging on hangers, and off to one side was a column of generously sized cubbyholes loaded with neatly folded stacks of white linen and/or silky... things.

Pru stomped (padded) to the wardrobe and reached for one of the folded white things.

"No knickers," Brie barked.  "You're already wearing knickers.  Also, no bra, slip, or camisole.  Stockings and uniform only."

Pru paused to lock eyes with and visually hurl a dozen or so totally harmless and imaginary daggers at The Evil Brie's... then selected a pair of sheer black stocking from a lower shelf, pulled them up her legs to her upper-thighs, then donned a pair of frilly white elastic garters with cute little black bows to keep the stockings in place.  Quick-changes were nothing new for an experienced fashion model, of course, so Pru knew how to dress with total efficiency and minimal lost motion.  Cat did as well... if someone would just be kind enough to give her the opportunity... dammit!

Next, Pru sorted through the hanging uniforms, checking their labels until she found her size (which Cat knew to be 8 UK (4 US), the same as her own).  Then, she rapidly and efficiently donned her selection with the same professional proficiency she'd demonstrated with the stockings and garters.

Maid Prudence was now wearing the same domestic uniform the cute, irritating, and giggling maids had worn while servicing the breakfast buffet.  It was a black, form-fitting sheath dress with short sleeves trimmed with white lace, a scoop décolletage also trimmed with white lace, and a hem just long enough to cover her garters when she stood up straight.  The only accessories were a white apron and a white headband, both trimmed with more of the white lace.

Cat had to admit the outfit was not unattractive and thought her lover looked absolutely adorable, as well as... traditional.  Very domestic, although Pru's scowling expression and general attitude were more sullen and disgruntled than those of a maid who wasn't actively trying to get herself sacked.

"Very pretty," Brie chuckled, then closed the wardrobe doors, pulled a low stool away from the wall, and opened yet another cabinet.  Reaching inside, she selected a pair of black high-heel shoes from among the several pairs neatly racked within, placed them atop the stool, then closed the cabinet door.  "Size 4," she announced with a smile and a graceful gesture that was obviously another order.

One of the few unfortunate aspects of Cat and Pru being flatmates was their disparate shoe sizes.  They could borrow (steal) each others clothes without difficulty, but not each others shoes.  Cat was a size 6 (9 US), whereas Pru was a 4 (7 US).  That's right, Cat's feet were "grotesquely huge" (according to Pru), whereas Pru's feet were "freakishly munchkin-like" (according to Cat).

Anyway, Pru snatched the shoes from the stool, placed them on the floor, then slid her stocking-clad feet into the waiting footwear.  Next, she placed her left foot on the stool and buckled the shoe's ankle-strap... then switched feet and did the same with the right ankle-strap.  That's right, the high-heel pumps had ankle straps!  Also, their buckles had tiny hasps suitable for tiny padlocks... which Brie was "kind" enough to stroll over and lock in place!

Cat couldn't remember seeing ankle straps on the shoes of any of the maids in the dining room, with or without of padlocks.  The breakfast maids had all been wearing "sensible" black shoes with minimally elevated heels, both practical, stylish and well suited to domestic service.  Pru's shoes were more elegant, but arguably kinky, especially with the addition of the tiny padlocks.  The locks weren't heart-shaped, but while looking functional and sturdy were as much jewelry as hardware.  Cat thought they were very cute.

Also, Cat noted that Brie was either as expert a judge of shoe sizes as she was a rigger, had made a lucky guess, or already knew Pru's size!  The later would be further evidence of Pru and Brie's shared history as denizens of Amberdale Castle... not that Cat was jealous or anything.

Poor Pouting Prudence was now fully clothed as an Amberdale Castle domestic (kinky version).  Her steel knickers were totally hidden, the kinky shoes were not, and her lack of bra wasn't especially noticeable.  Hands on hips, the newly uniformed maid glowered at her wicked supervisor.

Brie frowned (in an amused sort of way).  "I don't think I like your attitude, young lady."  She strolled to the cabinet that had formerly stored Pru's chastity belt, the belt now padlocked around and through Pru's loins under her uniform dress and apron, unlocked and opened a different drawer, reached in, and withdrew a small coil of thin hemp rope.  Pru watched (as did Cat and the Honorable Brats) while Brie released the hitch retaining the coil, shook open the length of rope (or possibly cord), and draped it over her neck.  She then closed and locked the drawer, unlocked and opened yet another drawer, reached in, and produced... a ball-gag with a white silicon-rubber mouth-plug and a black leather strap!  She closed and locked that drawer, turned... smiled... and strolled back towards Pru.

Halfway there, Brie tossed the ball gag to Pru, who caught it without difficulty and continued to glower.

"You know what to do," Brie purred.

Apparently Pru did, because she opened her scowling mouth, crammed the white sphere inside (although it was a tight fit), then secured the strap at the nape of her neck, pulling it tight enough to make her cheeks bulge.  She then carefully straightened her hair and resumed glowering.

Brie stepped behind the maid with the negative attitude, pulled her arms behind her back, crossed her wrists, and used the rope/cord to quickly, neatly, and inescapably bind them together, placing the key knot opposite Pru's useless fingers, tucking the inch or so of free ends safely out of the way.

Cat and The Brats watched this drama play out with keen interest.

"Brie's in a bit of a mood this morning," Lizzie said quietly to her sister.

Grace nodded.  "Brie's been in a mood ever since Mother granted Pru's request to come home for a visit and bring her hot flatmate along for the ride."

Cat blinked and looked from sister to sister.  They think I'm 'hot,' she noted.

What are you two conspiring about?" Brie demanded from across the room.  It was clear she was addressing The Honorable Brats.

Grace and Lizzie exchanged an amused glance, then turned to Her Ladyship's Designated Disciplinarian du Jour.  "Nothing," they chorused in grinning unison.

Brie took Poor Prudence the captive maid by one arm and marched her towards the chamber door.  "Bring the hostage and let's go," she ordered.  "The first tour will start in little more than an hour."

Naked, box-tied, and shock-collared, with Lizzie still clutching her rope tether and Grace as rearguard, Cat followed in the footsteps of her lover the captive maid and The Evil Brie passed through the door of the... Involuntary Maid Dressing Chamber?  Cat decided that was as good a name for the space as any.  As usual, she had no idea where they were going or what was going to happen next, but it was a safe bet neither of the prisoners would be very happy about it.

Poor Prudence, The Evil Brie, The Honorable Brats, and the Valiant and Virtuous Cat trooped (or padded, in the case of Cat) down the hallways of the servants' half of the multilevel maze that was Amberdale Castle.  They made turn after turn... climbed a spiral staircase... and finally arrived at a wooden door similar if not identical to all the other doors Cat had encountered while being dragged along the back corridors.  Brie smiled evilly (of course), produced her keys, then unlocked and opened the door.

While the space beyond was entirely adequate to hold Cat, Pru, and their three wicked handlers, it wasn't exactly spacious.  Curiously, for some reason a metal-lined slot was set in the stone floor.  Cat supposed it was some sort of... track?  Whatever it was, it led across the room and under a second door opposite the one through which they'd just entered.  Brie unlocked this second door and opened it to reveal... a pair of deep-red drapes.  While Cat was absorbing all of this, Brie took two steps to the side, opened a electrical panel, and threw a large, old fashioned, lever-style switch Cat thought would have been perfectly at home in Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory.

A motor hummed somewhere, the drapes parted, and a full-size, upright, gleaming set of medieval plate armor on a low pedestal slid down the track and into the room.

Cat was no expert in the steel outfits your typical wealthy and fashionable medieval knights wore into battle, not by any means, but she thought she might be looking at a full set of what was called "jousting armor."  It would completely cover its hypothetical wearer with the sole exception of a narrow horizontal vision-slit in the visor of the suit's helmet.  Also, virtually every square inch of the articulated plates on the front half of the suit were elaborately engraved in a stylized and decorative manner; however, the back half was plain, not decorated in any way.

In Cat's opinion, viewed from the front the thing was undeniably beautiful... in a martial manner.  Oddly, however, the back half of the suit was not only starkly plain (without the aforementioned engraving or any other form of decoration), it didn't seem to conform to the anatomy of a typical human being  There were bulges in the back that didn't make sense.  Also, while the front plates appeared to be fully articulated, the back plates were clearly fused together into one big sculpted panel.  It was... puzzling.

Also puzzling, Lizzie was suddenly hopping up and down with enthusiasm and throwing a minor tizzy.  "Oh-oh-oh!  Can I do it?  Can I do it?  Please-please-please let me do it!"

Lizzie's girlish display was very cute (in Cat's opinion), but also inexplicable (and mildly irritating).

Still smiling, Brie rolled her eyes... and nodded.  "You may open it, then assist me with the"—she paused to shift her sinister smile to Cat—"installation process."

Cat frowned.  What the hell is she talking about?  She stared at Brie... then the giggling blonde... then her big sister... then turned her puzzled gaze to Pru, the wrist-bound, shock-collared, and ball-gagged maid.

Cat's lover gazed back, heaved a sad—no, a truly tragic sigh—then lowered her eyes to the stone floor.

As Cat struggled to process what was happening, Lizzie scampered to the strange, half-decorated set of plate armor, opened five flush-mounted, heavy-duty, spring-loaded clamps running down its right side—Snick!  Snick!  Snick!  Snick!  Snick!—then tugged, heaved, and grunted until she finally managed to swing open the entire backside of the steel object on five matching heavy-duty hinges running down the left side!  Creeeeeee!  Obviously, the hinges were in need of oiling, but Cat had much far more serious and immediate concerns!

It was now clear the object in question wasn't a suit of armor at all!  It was a steel encasement!  It was an upright steel sarcophagus disguised as a suit of armor!  Its inside surface was smooth and rounded, with no sign whatsoever of the articulated plates cladding its exterior.  Cat came to the conclusion that none of the supposed plates were articulated.  It wasn't a suit of armor in any way other than its appearance from the front!  It was a sculpture, a hollow sculpture built to closely imprison a human-shaped figure in a human-sized and human-shaped space!

Even worse, inside the hollow sculpture was an upright cage, with little if any clearance between it and the walls of the steel encasement!  Lizzie took a firm grip on a couple of the cage's horizontal steel bands, took a deep breath, and heaved.

The form-fitting cage slid back, traveling in the same track as the armor/sarcophagus itself... and Cat realized it was strikingly similar to the gibbet-cage featured in a very memorable sequence in the John Willie's Race for the Gold Cup, one of a handful of illustrated stories in his classic The Adventures of Sweet Gwendoline!  The only significant difference between the "Willie Cage" and this cage was that this cage was designed to encase a victim whose arms were bound in a "sadistic" box-tie with her bound wrists raised and lashed against her spine, just below her shoulder blades (like Cat!), as opposed to simply having her arms straight with her wrists tied together behind her back (like Sweet Gwendoline).

Lizzie was busy unlatching the cage's many horizontal steel bands and pulling them open, one by one, which gave Cat plenty of time to be helplessly naked, bound, shock-collared, not gagged, horrified, and nervous, very nervous.  Obviously, somebody was about to find herself locked inside the cage and inside the sarcophagus/armor, and Cat herself was the obvious candidate!

Cat continued gazing at the cage as Lizzie swung open the final band.  She then turned her head and watched as Brie strolled to Pru, reached behind her head, unbuckled her ball-gag, plucked it from her mouth, then turned and strolled in her direction, meaning Cat herself!  The naked, box-tied, shock-collared, and tape-gagged prisoner had no doubt regarding The Evil Brie's intentions!  She locked eyes with Lady Paulina's Disciplinarian-of-the-Day and glowered as Brie peeled the Elastoplast strip from her lips, mouth, and lower face... then folded the removed tape-gag and tossed it to Lizzie.  Next, she shoved the ball-gag's white mouth-plug (still wet with Pru's saliva) into her mouth (meaning Cat's mouth), and buckled it tight at the nape of her neck, tight enough to make Cat's cheeks bulge.

Next, Brie spun Cat around and pushed her towards the open and ready cage!  With Lizzie's grinning assistance, they forced Cat into the enclosure, Brie held her in place, and Lizzie closed the horizontal bands and secured them in place one-by-one, starting at the bottom and working her way up to the very top.  Cat squirmed and struggled, in a halfhearted manner, with predictable results.  Cat knew her resistance was futile.  She almost decided to give her shock collar its long delayed test, but kept her ball-gagged protests and complaints to herself.  She did, however, squirm and test the cage in stoic silence, just a little.  It was expected.

Finally... The Caging of The Cat was accomplished!  The closely confined damsel quickly discovered she had very little wiggle-room.  The cage was a close fit.  All her struggles accomplished was to press and/or squash various parts of her naked anatomy against the steel bands and/or the smooth interior of the encasement.  And oh-by-the-way, the cage included a steel panel that pressed against her already ball-gagged mouth!  It was padded with something, possibly leather, but she couldn't be sure what it was as she couldn't taste it... which was probably a good thing.

Not to Cat's surprise, The Evil Brie was in gloating heaven.  Her wicked smile was truly maleficent.  Grace and Lizzie were also smiling, but Cat thought she might be detecting a little sympathy for her plight.  As for Poor Prudence, she was overtly sympathetic and deeply saddened by her lover's fate (although Cat suspected Pru was enjoying her predicament on at least some level).

"Well, enjoy your day," Brie purred, "but please remember to keep the noise level at or near zero.  We don't want to alarm the tourists, now do we?"

Grace smiled at Brie.  "But won't anything she manages to force past her gag almost certainly be interpreted as... spectral moans?  If word gets out that Amberdale is haunted, you might might be able to book some of those 'Ghost Tours.'  It'll be good for business."

"Excellent point," Brie chuckled, "but hold that thought 'til it's time to decorate for Halloween."

What the hell are they talking about? Cat wondered.  Tourists?  Ghosts?  This is absurd!

Someone, probably Brie or Lizzie or both, was pushing on her cage!  It rumbled along the track and into the back of the sarcophagus, taking the naked, bound, shock-collared, ball-gagged, closely-cage-encased, and highly reluctant Cat with it!  And then—Creeeeeee-Thunk!—the back half of the sarcophagus swung closed, plunging Cat into darkness!

The encased captive blinked her eyes as they adjusted.  There was a light shining through the horizontal eye-slit in the "helmet's visor, but all she could see was the deep-red drapes directly in front of the "helmet's" view-slit.

Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!

Cat assumed the reverberating sounds were someone, probably Lizzie, snapping closed the spring-loaded and flush-mounted clamps, sealing her inside the cramped sarcophagus!

Cat squirmed and struggled, testing her rope bonds and the cage with renewed enthusiasm.  The cage didn't even rattle against the sarcophagus.  Obviously, the tolerances involved were tight, meaning either the bands of the cage fit into slots on the inside of the sarcophagus she hadn't noticed earlier, pins slid into strategically placed holes, both, or there was some other design feature that effectively fused the cage and encasement into a single entity!

And then—Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble—the entire encasement—sarcophagus, cage, and Cat—slid forward along the track!  The red drapes parted... Cat and the encasement passed through.. then the "suit of armor" immediately locked in place with a metallic thunk.  Simultaneously, light flooded through the vision-slit.

The slit in question was narrow, but Cat's eyes were quite close.  Therefore, her field-of-view was less restricted than she'd feared it would be—Blink-blink!—and she quickly realized she was gazing down at the Grand Staircase of the castle's Grand Entry Hall!

Cat did her best to recall the details of the hall's wall and rack-mounted displays of spears, halberds, swords, axes, shields, hanging banners, and suits of armor that had lined the entryway's walls during the first and only time she'd climbed the broad staircase immediately before and below her.  She realized her "suit of armor" was one of several on display in various alcoves set in the stone walls, and she was increasingly sure her suit/encasement (and herself) were in the center alcove of a row directly above the top landing and facing the castle's Main Gate.

The top of the head of anyone climbing the steps—arriving on the landing and about to turn to the left or right and head down one of the side hallways—would be a foot or so directly below Cat's feet.  Even if Cat was willing to risk screaming through her ball-gag to plead for help, not only would she risk the possibility (probability) of a crippling jolt of electricity paralyzing her larynx—but between the noise of the surrounding crowd of chatting tourists and the Grand Entry Hall's echoing acoustics, the hypothetical person-on-the-landing probably wouldn't hear her anyway.  Nobody would even suspect they were only a few feet from a bound and gagged damsel encased in an upright steel sarcophagus disguised as a historical exhibit!

Cat felt she had no choice but to award full points to Lady Paulina (or whatever kinky and clever Hardy ancestor had devised her predicament).  She heaved a sigh (carefully, so as not to make any noise) and settled in to wait for...  sunset?  Brie had told her to "enjoy her day," so Cat assumed she was in for several hours of serious languishing... closely confined and totally helpless serious languishing!  The steel encased captive silently sighed, once again, and closed her eyes.

Seconds passed... then Cat opened her eyes once again.  'Tourists!' she remembered.  I'm on the tour!  She meant The Grand Entryway and Grand Staircase were on the tour, of course.  Once the buses and autos start arriving, Cat reflected, there will be intermittent herds of schoolkids, teachers, old ladies, couples, and families-on-day-trips trooping up the stone steps, being shepherded by tour guides and gawking at the decorations... myself included.  It's going to be... distracting... and maybe at least a little entertaining.  Languishing with diversions!

On one level, the coming ordeal was going to be both cruel and titillating!  There would be a surging crowd of potential rescuers right there, but unaware of her predicament, and she'd be unable to educate them with respect to her horrible fate!  Brilliant! she thought.  Wicked!

On another level, at least she'd have something to occupy her time... once the tours started, anyway.  Cat's languishing ordeal would be less boring... maybe.  Only time would tell.

Woe is me, the naked, rope-bound, shock-collared, ball-gagged, caged, and encased prisoner thought, for no particular reason.  The sentiment seemed appropriate.