by Van © 2020
			Chapter 5

This was not how Skye thought her day would be going.  The novelty of making a home delivery of stylish clothing to one of Plumeria's most gorgeous (and intriguing) customers was one thing... but winding up naked, bound, gagged, and rolling around on said customer's bed?  Wow!  Also...  Help!

Skye squirmed on the gigantic Victorian bed in question, but her efforts were for comfort, not an escape attempt.  She'd long since given up on escape, accepting the fact that there was no way she was going to wiggle out of the thin, coyote-brown paracord binding her crossed wrists behind her back and pinning them against the small of her back.  The crotch-rope element of her bonds (the pair of cords pressing her labia together) prevented the waist cord from shifting and anchored the key knot over her bellybutton on the opposite side of her body, rendering her fluttering, groping fingers utterly useless. 

And without untying her wrist/belly/crotch paracord bondage, Skye wouldn't be able to untie the second length of paracord lashing her ankles, feet, and big toes together—or the hemp rope loosely wrapped around her neck and tethering her to the bed's upper right bedpost—or the hemp rope redundantly lashed around her cord-bound ankles and tethering her to the lower left bedpost.

There was also the issue of the hollow, ventilated, silicon-rubber ball-gag crammed in her mouth and buckled at the nape of her neck under her tousled ginger hair, tight enough to make her freckled, flushed cheeks bulge.  It greatly complicated her ability to negotiate for her immediate release, as did the total absence of anyone with whom she could negotiate.

Finally... there was Skye's total nudity (not counting her aforementioned paracord and hemp bonds or the mouth-plugging ball-gag).  Also, she was bound, gagged, and nude in a stranger's home!  And stretched across a stranger's bed!  Granted, Lacey Monjeau wasn't a total stranger.  Skye knew the stunning, gorgeous, super-hot old woman (she was Mom's age!) from selling her stylish clothing and accessories back at Plumeria, before making her delivery and allowing herself to be tricked into naked bondage.  The situation was strange, but Lacey wasn't a stranger.

Anyway...  Wow!  Help!

Skye had been languishing in helpless bound and gagged nudity for... quite some time.  She was beginning to suspect her hostess/captor/bondage-demonstrator was going to leave her to ponder her naked helplessness for a full hour, a time period which, by her best guesstimate, had more-or-less elapsed.

So far...  Skye had arrived at Lacey's Lair—there was an abbreviated tea party—the start of the dominatrix demonstration—an hour of fully clothed, bound, and gagged languishing—the removal of her clothing and revision of her bonds—and now a second hour of bound, gagged, and naked languishing.  Traditional languishing intervals were always an hour.  Everybody knew that.  That's how it was done.  Anyway, soon the second hour of languishing had expired (probably) and soon, as Lacey had warned, the so called "real demonstration" would commence!  Gulp!

A delicate shiver rippled through Skye's paracord-pinched pussy.  Is this the sort of stuff Pallavi thinks about when she's my, uh, victim? Skye wondered.  Is it the naked helplessness and anticipation that make it fun and exciting for her?  And speaking of anticipation, when they were alone (meaning Harper wasn't involved), Skye tied up her BFF, left her to languish for the obligatory hour... then returned, it was their practice to cuddle and smooch!  Is Lacey gonna do that to me?  Inconceivable!

Skye heaved a ball-gagged (and saliva dripping) sigh.  Why am I even thinking about that stuff?  Lacey's absolutely gorgeous... and smart... and sexy as all get out... but she's old!  As old as Mom fer cryin' out loud!  The idea of a gorgeous, intelligent, sexy older woman hugging and kissing her (and doing who-knows-what-else to her naked, bound, and gagged body) was... disturbing?  Yes, disturbing, Skye decided.  The thought didn't prevent her pussy from continuing to quiver, and now Skye's entire naked, bound, and gagged body was joining in, shivering at the very possibility of naked, bound, and gagged hanky-panky with Lacey Monjeau.

On the other hand... if I'm helpless, naked, and ball-gagged—and I most certainly am—what could I do to stop her if she decided she did want to fondle my boobs and suck on my face?  Nothing.  (Skye's pussy and pointing nipples emphatically agreed.)

Anyway, returning to the issue at hand, which was how Pallavi felt when Skye tied her up and left her to languish... Lacey getting touchy-feely with her was irrelevant.  Mistress Monjeau was a dominatrix giving Skye a courteous demonstration of how she practiced her profession.  This wasn't a Skye/Pallavi-style recreational bondage game, so there wasn't going to be making out and squishy stuff, right?

I need to have a long talk about all of this with Pallavi, Skye decided, after I've got her naked and tied to my bed, of course.

And then, the possibility of post-languishing activity moved from the realm of a hypothetical future and into the present!

The bedroom door opened and Lacey strolled across the threshold—or rather, Mistress Monjeau strolled across the threshold.  Skye's hostess was still wearing her super-sexy, ultra-hot, mega-intimidating, black leather and mesh fabric dominatrix outfit of open-toe-high-heel-knee-boots—skintight, revealing, and only technically modest sleeveless playsuit—finger-less and palm-less opera-gloves—and gorgeous/sinister smile.  Also, Lacey had several neatly coiled bundles of hemp rope strung together and slung over her right shoulder like a bandoleer!  More rope??  And Mistress was carrying a black cloth bag in her left hand, and something was in it!

Skye was impressed (especially her pussy and nipples), as well as being naked, bound, and gagged.  Her heart began pounding and her eyes widened.

"Aren't you a pretty little package?" Lacey purred as she strolled to the bed, sat, and once again rested her pale, smooth right hand on Skye's freckled thigh.  "You know you're perfectly safe, of course, don't you darling?" she continued in her low, sexy, alto voice.  "But that doesn't mean you can't revel in your complete helplessness and the delicious suspense of the situation."

Skye locked her eyes with Lacey and willed herself to stop blinking.  'Revel' is a bit strong, she decided.  And I'm gagged.  Enough already with the rhetorical questions.

"Your mother and friends know where you are, of course," Lacey noted, "but they don't know that you're naked, bound, and gagged.  No one will be coming to your rescue, darling.  No one even knows you need rescuing.  Delicious... like I said."

It's true!  It's true!  A shiver of, uh, dread rippled through Skye's pussy and somehow found its way to her nipples.  Oddly, the sensation was more-or-less identical to a classic thrill-of-erotic-delight, a feeling with which Skye had reasonable familiarity, like any other well adjusted young lady.  Go figure!

Lacey's smile became even more wicked.  "And if, for some inexplicable reason, your mother does become concerned and drives out here to check on you..."  Her hand began gliding across Skye's hip and thigh, once again giving her guest/captive a "reassuring" massage.  "All I have to do is trick her into bondage and give her a demonstration."

Skye's wide-eyed blinking shifted into high gear.  Her heart was still hammering, and now she was panting through her ball-gag.  "Nrrrrr!"

"Yes, yes, I know," Lacey chuckled, ceased stroking Skye's thigh, and gave it a reassuring pat.  "Don't worry, darling.  I'm teasing.  I have no intention whatsoever of binding and gagging your mother and keeping you both as my playthings."

That was reassuring.  Skye didn't want to deal with her mother being naked, bound, gagged, and at the mercy of super-sexy Mistress Monjeau.  The very thought was bad enough.  However...   Plaything?  Did she said 'plaything!'  She is gonna do squishy stuff to me!

Lacey picked up the black cloth bag and loosened its drawstring.

"I used a breathing-style ball-gag to evaluate your gag reflex," Lacey purred.  "Obviously, you don't find having something crammed into your pretty little mouth to be much of a challenge, so..."

Skye's eyes were already wide, so all she could do was blink and stare.  Lacey had opened the bag and pulled out another leather and silicon-rubber gag, and was holding it for her inspection!  It was a top-of-the-line black leather model of the panel variety!  Its main strap would buckle at the nape of its victim's neck, the same as with most gags, and in the front, tiny secondary buckles on the left and right could tighten to press the panel against the victim's lower face from ear-to-ear and nose-to-chin!  And the panel incorporated a rather unusual mouth-filling plug that could be described as a large egg of silicon-rubber foam combined with a top and bottom set of silicon-rubber bite-protectors!

"As you can see," Lacey said, indicating the plug, "the foam ball will fill your mouth and the bite-protectors will lock your jaws in position.  Also, the shape of the front panel is carefully designed.  It will press against your lips and lower face like a tight, firm hand-gag.  This is one of the most effective models in my collection."  She smiled warmly at her naked, bound, and already gagged young guest.  "Only the best for you, my darling Skye."

And then, it happened!  Lacey parted Skye's hair, unbuckled the ball-gag's strap, and plucked the ventilated sphere from her mouth!

"Mrrr—w-wait!  Wait!  I—MRRRrrrf!"

"Hush, darling," Lacey admonished as she compressed the panel-gag's foam ball, inserted the plug in Skye's sputtering mouth, and made sure her teeth were properly seated in the upper and lower bite-protectors!  The foam quickly re-expanded, filling Skye's oral cavity to capacity!

And once Lacey finished tightening the main strap and adjusting and securing the side buckles, Skye found the panel did, indeed, press against her lips and mouth like a hand-gag—a rock-solid, never-ending hand-gag!

Skye had tried her best to resist the gag-swapping process, but once again Lacey had demonstrated her skill and experience as a damsel-handler.  "Mrrr!"  And Skye had to admit that without any doubt whatsoever, the new gag was effective.  Also, and much to her surprise, while the foam and bite-protectors did, indeed, immobilize her jaws and completely fill her mouth, as promised, the well-distributed pressure of the front panel solidified the situation.  She couldn't call the horrible thing comfortable, but surprisingly, it was no more uncomfortable than the ventilated-ball-gag.  Go figure!

Skye tossed her head, causing her ginger curls to flutter, and continued testing her new accessory.  "Mrrrrr!"  She then blinked and watched as Lacey separated the first coil of three-strand, 8 mm, conditioned hemp rope from the rope-bandoleer and released its retaining hitch.

"And now, darling," Lacey purred, "forgive me, but I'm going to show off a little.  This will take a few minutes."

Skye watched as Lacey found the center of the rope coil.  Apparently, this time, Mistress was sticking to normal Kinbaku practice and doubling the rope... which Skye didn't find to be at all ominous.

The lunch crowd at Plumeria had thinned out.  Pallavi and Harper were with customers, but at the moment Jodi and Kanoa were free.  They stood together in the back of the store, next to the curtain hiding the doorway leading to the stockroom, break room, and office.

"Would you please calm down?" Kanoa said quietly.

"How can I calm down?" Jodi demanded.  "My baby is in trouble."

"Your baby is in the middle of a job interview," Kanoa chuckled.  "Or is it career counseling?"

Jodi's only response was a deep sigh.

Kanoa continued smiling.  "There's no way I'm letting you go home to your great big empty house like this."

"I'll be fine," Jodi huffed.

"You'll mope around, empty your wine cellar, then drunk-dial Mistress," Kanoa predicted.

"I don't have a wine cellar," Jodi retorted.

Kanoa dimpled smile widened.  "I was referring to the three bottles of red you have in the wooden rack on your kitchen counter and however many bottles of white you have chilling in the fridge."

"I'm not going to drink even a single bottle of wine," Jodi countered.

"Nevertheless, you're coming home with me," Kanoa stated.  "Resistance is futile."

Jodi sighed (again).  "Okay."

"And will you please stop fretting," Kanoa whispered.

"I can't help it," Jodi muttered.  "My baby... um."  Her voice had caught in her throat.

Kanoa took Jodi's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "I know."

Just then, the bell over the main entrance jingled and a pair of 30-something customers entered the shop.

"Smile," Kanoa ordered, gave her partner's hand another squeeze, then released it.

"The show must go on," Jodi quoted, mustered a smile, and strolled forward with her best friend at her side.

It was a replay of the untie-strip-retie exercise that had happened earlier, only this time it took at least twice as long, and that was despite Lacey not having to contend with removing Skye's already removed attractive Summer dress and adorably cute underwear.  The change took longer because Lacey was using more rope.
 
Skye struggled and squirmed, but it did her no more good than before.  Skye's arms and legs were never free enough for her to mount a credible opposition.  It was another dramatic display of Mistress Monjeau's skill as a damsel-handler.

When Lacey was satisfied with the rigging portion of stage three of her demonstration, Skye was bound with hemp rope from her shoulders to her big toes!

The bondage started as a box-tie with Skye's arms folded behind her back, her wrists and forearms lashed together, and her upper arms pinned to her torso; then continued as a ladder-tie combined with a karada (diamond-hitch) web that bound Skye's body from the boobs down!   And the complex tie included a crotch-rope that cleaved her butt-cheeks and labia and had a distressingly large knot cunningly positioned to press against her clitoris whenever she squirmed!

Just as the new panel-gag was a dramatic "improvement" over the old ventilated-ball-gag, Skye's elaborate, cunningly crafted, and tight hemp bonds were vastly "superior" to her former paracord bonds and rope tethers.  Granted, she was no longer hitched to the bed, but that was more-or-less immaterial.  Skye could tell that the toe-tie element of her new bondage would put the kibosh on heaving herself off the bed and trying to hop around, even if Lacey abandoned her for a third languishing interval and left her "free" to make the attempt.

Skye rolled over onto her back and gazed up at her hostess/captor.

Lacey returned her naked, bound, and gagged young guest/captive's gaze, a wicked, gloating smile curling her lips.  "Sometimes I surprise even myself," she chuckled.  "You make quite the attractive little bundle, Skye."

Skye blinked at the... compliment?  I do?

"Now..."  She reached out with her right hand and gave Skye's left breast a gentle squeeze... then began teasing her left nipple with her thumb and index finger.

That is...  Lacey squeezed Skye's left boob!!  Then began toying with her nipple!!  "Mrrrrrf!!" Skye screamed (or tried, anyway).

Lacey continued smiling and teasing Skye's now throbbing nipple, and ignored her guest's well-muffled but obvious objections to having her boob fondled.  "I'm going to leave you again, darling," Lacey purred, "so you can get used to your new bondage.  The mail has probably been delivered by this time, and I need to check and see if there's anything important.  So..."

Skye watched with growing alarm as Lacey lifted the black bag that had held the new panel-gag so effectively filling her mouth, pressing against her lips, and muffling her attempts to ask questions, make complaints, and/or scream—and pulled it over her head!

"Mrrrrrf!!"

Skye squirmed and wiggled in the sudden darkness!  "Mrrrrf!!"  She felt Lacey tighten the bag's drawstring tight until it was snug around her neck, then tie a knot... or maybe a doubled bow.  "Mrrrrr!"  The bag revealed that it was more than a convenient means of carrying around panel-gags.  It was a hood!  And was stretchy and formfitting and hugged her entire head like a hood!  Because it was a hood!

The fabric was spandex, or something similar, and while it was thick enough to serve as a fully functional blindfold (at least over Skye's eyes), it was thin enough that she could breathe without difficulty, something Skye considered to be very good, all things considered.  Skye liked breathing.  "Mrrr!" she complained.  The only response was silence.  Is Mistress still here? she wondered.

Lacey smiled down at her naked, bound, gagged, and hooded potential apprentice.

Increasingly, she found herself thinking of the incredibly cute and clever little ginger as her probable apprentice, but knew such thoughts were premature.  The offer had yet to be made and accepted.  Also, training a new domme was a formidable responsibility, a commitment not to be made lightly.  Lacey had to be absolutely certain Skye had the correct temperament and required dedication.  The youngster had to understand everything that would be expected of her.  Lacey wasn't about to rush into such a relationship.

Taking on an apprentice was something Lacey hadn't even considered doing before Jodi made her suggestion.  She'd given the proposition careful thought before agreeing to make the attempt, but there was still a significant element of making things up on the fly.  Lacey was carefully monitoring Skye's reactions at every step, fine-tuning the details of her demonstration/evaluation... and it was exhausting.  The repeated languishing periods were as much for Lacey's benefit as Skye's.

Lacey's smile took on a wry twist.  This was, indeed, new territory, and far different from the familiar task of breaking in a new client.  The only way Skye could learn the ropes (so to speak) was to first learn what it was like to be on the receiving end of the dominatrix/slave dynamic; but the goal was empathy, not submission.  The last thing Lacey needed or wanted was Skye groveling at her feet and begging for the collar.

Of course, the thought of Skye Gilroy naked, on her knees, and locked in a stylish steel collar was a very appealing mental image, but Lacey had never been big on the Formal Trappings of the scene.  Some dommes went in for submission ceremonies, and a tiny minority were downright Gorean about it, insisting on stylized "slave positions" and the total female abasement of John Norman's "classic" fantasy novels.  Such nonsense was definitely not Lacey's cup of tea.

There were exceptions, of course.  For example, Jodi, Skye's mother, and Pallavi, her other, non-biological mother, enjoyed the trapping of enslavement, so Lacey played along.  And if groveling at her feet was what it took to make a pair of beautiful, naked customers happy, it was a sacrifice Lacey was willing to make.  And speaking of happy...

Lacey found her interactions with her customers pleasurable, but Lacey Monjeau Lifestyle Consulting Services was first and foremost a business.  Her relationships with her customers were strictly professional.  Long ago Lacey had made the call that if she decided she wanted companionship, she'd go to the shelter and rescue a dog... or maybe a cat.  I certainly don't want a slave, Lacey thought as she gazed down at the naked, bound, gagged, and hooded youngster squirming on her bed, not even even a devilishly cute little ginger slave with a zillion freckles, a gorgeous face, big green eyes I could stare into forever, a pair of perky, firm breasts, and a spankable bottom.

Skye continued squirming on the bed, testing her new bondage.

Well, Lacey mused, no rest for the wicked.  She spun on her heels and made her exit, leaving Skye to the novel experience of exploring sub-space.

Another languishing period?  Skye thought.  A third languishing period?  She had to admit that once again her hostess/teacher/captor had done an outstanding job of tying her up... completely... but still... a third hour of languishing?  Skye wiggled, squirmed, and rolled around on the bed, but without great enthusiasm.  The last thing she wanted was to fall off the mattress and land on the floor with a naked, bound, gagged, and hooded thud.

The box-tie was both inescapable and relatively comfortable; but then, box-ties were like that.  Also, the Karada/diamond-hitch ropes binding her down the length of her naked body (all the way to her big toes) was snug and effective.  Skye was impressed, even though her toes and pussy were somewhat resentful.  Every squirm caused the crotch-rope's carefully positioned knot to press against her clit.  It wasn't exactly painful (yet), but provided a constant reminder of her complete helplessness and total vulnerability.  And she found that if she flexed her feet, the vertical strands linking her toe-bonds to her ankle-bonds snapped taut and punished her big toes (a little).

Without a doubt, Lacey Monjeau was a gifted and seasoned rigger.  Skye could learn a lot from letting Lacey use her as her bondage dummy.  Hmm... Maybe I can talk Pallavi into coming out here with me so Lacey could use her as her bondage dummy.  That way I could watch and learn, rope free.  Skye heaved a well-muffled and hood-encased sigh.  As if I'm gonna ask Mistress Monjeau to waste her time showing me rope tricks on a regular basis.  And do I even want or need to be shown rope tricks on a regular basis?  I've done pretty damn well teaching myself, thank you very much.  Pallavi can attest to that.  Anyway... focus!  I need to get away from here and back home... so I won't be naked, bound, gagged, and hooded.  Then and only then I can think about maybe coming back.

Just then, Skye heard the bedroom door open.  This was surprising, as by her best estimate, Mistress Monjeau had been gone less than fifteen minutes.  What now?

"Nothing but unsolicited credit card and insurance offers and shopping flyers," Lacey stated.

Skye blinked her eyes, under the hood.  Huh?  Oh yeah, she remembered. She was checking the mail.  "Mrrrf?"

Without further ado and much to Skye's alarm, Lacey had picked her up and slung her over her shoulder!  She was stomach down, bound feet to the front, and hooded head to the rear!  And it was humiliating to be handled like a sack of... something.  Her crotch was especially resentful.  That damn knot was now grinding into her clit with every step Mistress took, and Mistress was stepping.  Skye was being carried somewhere.  They were on a journey.  "Mrrrf!" she reiterated.

"Hush," Lacey purred, then—Smack!—delivered a degrading and admonishing slap to Skye's right butt-cheek.  "And stop squirming," she added.  "I might drop you."

Skye very much doubted Mistress Monjeau was going to drop her.  Obviously, she was as strong as the proverbial sexy, athletic, and very curvaceous ox.  And Skye was a petite, slender, undeniably attractive, and negligible bundle.  All Skye could do was go along for the ride... literally... and try and ignore that damn knot!

They made various turns... paused so Mistress could open various doors... then descended a set of stairs.  They remained inside the house the entire time.  Skye was sure she'd have been able to tell if they'd gone outside.  There was another pause... punctuated by a curious low frequency rumbling noise... then the journey continued.  More turns.  Finally, Mistress slung Skye off her shoulder—"Mrrr!"—and planted her big-toe-tied feet on a cool, smooth floor.  Ow!

And now, Skye could feel Mistress doing something to the nexus of box-tie ropes behind her back and above her folded arms, bound wrists, and lashed-together forearms.  She heard the familiar dry slithering sound of rope dragging through rope, accompanied by the unfamiliar vibrations that accompanied the process when the ropes in question were binding her body, as opposed to, say, Pallavi's body.  Finally, she realized a vertical rope element had been added to her bondage, linking her in some manner to the ceiling.  This was standard Kinbaku practice when the rigger intended to impose a semi or full suspension, so Skye was unsurprised (and alarmed) when the upwards tug she was feeling increased and she was pulled up onto her bound toes!  "Mrrf!"  Ow!

There was more slithering and vibrating, which Skye surmised was Mistress hitching, cinching, wrapping, and securing the remaining vertical rope, once again following proper Kinbaku protocol... and the deed was done. 

Skye was naked, bound, gagged, hooded, and standing up on her bound toes, heels off the floor, and teetering on the balls of her feet.  How rude!  There was some slack in the arrangement, so she decided, as a cautious test, to favor her toes and let the vertical rope take her full weight and—Ow!—immediately decided that that was a very bad idea.  Somehow, Mistress had incorporated her crotch-rope in the arrangement—the crotch-rope with the insidious clit-knot!  It was an impressive bit of engineering; however, it was also something of a predicament.

Skye could stand upright and punish her toes, or she could slouch and punish her hoo-haw!  It was... horrendous!

And while Skye was struggling to come to terms with her dilemma, she felt Mistress release the drawstring of her hood.  Lacey then snatched the spandex shroud from her gagged head!

Skye shook out her tangled, tousled hair from her face, restoring what could only laughingly be called a state of order.  Her freckled, flushed, and gagged face was sweaty from being under the hood, so a couple of errant ginger strands remained plastered to her forehead and across her glistening face.  She glared at her smiling captor, not caring if she was being a rude guest, then began noticing her new surroundings.

"Mrrrrrf!"

No other reaction was possible.  Skye's heart was now pounding like a galloping pony, her green eyes were as wide as was humanly possible, her nostrils flared as she panted, and her naked, rope-framed breasts were heaving!

Skye found she was in a what was unmistakably a bona-fide, authentic, and fully equipped TORTURE CHAMBER!!

The furnishings included:

●  A padded steel chair with an open seat and dangling straps ready to secure a hypothetical occupant at the ankles, thighs, wrists, forearms, waist, chest, neck, and forehead!

●  A St. Andrews Cross, a vertical, X-shaped wooden frame with wrist and ankle cuffs, as well as other straps to secure its victim at the knees, waist, upper torso, and upper arms!

●  A horse, a wedge-shaped wooden box that would require its rider to settle her full weight on its slightly rounded but distressingly narrow horizontal top ridge!

●  An actual rack, a long, narrow, horizontal table with ankle stocks at the foot and a drum-like winch with a pair of padded wrist cuffs at the head!

●  A pillory, an upright, rectangular wooden frame with a sturdy base.  It would require its standing victim to lean forward with her wrists and neck trapped in its circular openings!

●  A "puppy cage" of shining steel bars with a padded top.  It was approximately 4' x 3' x 3' and could either incarcerate a damsel in its cramped interior or serve as a spanking bench!

●  Steel shop cabinets painted fire engine red, the kind usually used for tool storage, but Skye suspected they held various instruments of torture and not tools!

●  And finally, dangling from various hooks and pegs were steel cuffs, leather straps, bundled coils of rope, whips, crops, floggers, and lengths of chain!

It was a TORTURE CHAMBER!  And Skye was in it!  And she was naked, bound, and gagged in a semi-suspended predicament!

"This is what I call my Soup-to-Nuts Torture Chamber," Mistress explained, indicating the surrounding furnishings with a graceful gesture.  "My dungeon also has various specialized chambers dedicated to specific venues, such as my Medical Examination Room, Kinky Schoolroom, and Victorian Whipping Parlor, but this is where I entertain clients who haven't expressed a specific preference."

Fascinating, Skye thought.  Now... GET ME OUT OF HERE!!

Mistress delicately sniffed the hood still in her right hand and pursed her lips in a delicate frown.  "You managed to make this thing surprisingly damp in a relatively short time," she observed.  "I should put it in to soak right away.  Wait here."

Skye blinked in surprise.  Mistress was turning and leaving!  "Mrrrf?"  And then she was gone!  And Skye was alone!

She would have liked to heave a deep sigh, but was too occupied panting in terror.  Having no other option, she returned to examining the torture chamber.

Everything was top-of-the-line, as far as Skye could determine, and it was all modern, as opposed to being historical recreations.  For example, the rack wasn't ancient timbers and a wooden drum wound with ratty hemp rope.  It was made of wood, but it looked like all the components could have come from the local hardware mega-store (like Lowe's or Home Depot) and had been fabricated in a modern workshop with modern power tools by a skilled carpenter who knew what he or she was doing.  And the same went for the chamber's other horrifying accoutrements.

All of this was absolutely fascinating, of course, but... without a doubt... Skye Gilroy was in BIG TROUBLE!!