by Van © 2020
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
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
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
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?
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
Skye's wide-eyed blinking shifted into high gear. Her
heart was still hammering, and now she was panting through her
"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
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,
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
"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
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.
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
"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
"I'm not going to drink even a single bottle of wine," Jodi
"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
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
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
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
Skye rolled over onto her back and gazed up at her
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
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
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
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.
down at her naked, bound, gagged, and hooded potential
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
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
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.
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
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, 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!
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
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
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.
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
It was a TORTURE CHAMBER! And Skye was in it! And
she was naked, bound, and gagged in a semi-suspended
● 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
● 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!
"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
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.
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
All of this was absolutely fascinating, of course, but...
without a doubt... Skye Gilroy was in BIG TROUBLE!!
| Chapter 5