WriterOfSin
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I'm cross-posting this story from Deviant Art. While it is a tickling story, I must add that it's mostly about building up tension and working on my descriptions, so if you feel let down by the relative lack of tickling, well I'm sorry.
Without further ado,
The building was isolated, a mass of weathered stone and thatch roof sitting in the middle of thistle-laden fields besides a flint-bottomed lake. An aged durmast oak sheltered the house from the worst of the wind, looking even immovable than the mossy mortared stones of the house. For years it had rooted there, to the point where those who visited were left with the feeling that the question of what came first, wood or rock, would never be answered. The house was empty for the most part, a legacy of the remoteness and the owner's preference for solitudinous living. He sat alone in the study, a cosy-atmosphered room thick with book-shelves and a desk, attention fixed on a laptop. He rescanned the last few lines again, pleased at what he read there.
Now he just had to make sure everything was ready for his guests.
They arrived two days later. The crunch of gravel was loud enough to cut through the thick-paned glass of the house's windows, and that in itself was uncommon enough. Only a rare few delivery lorries came up the path to drop off large packages, and there were none scheduled for a week now. Patiently, he waited for a moment before standing up to look outside. He could just see the nose of the car, the yellow rental sticker on the bonnet standing out from the dark blue paintwork. Steps crackled over the gravel now and the carven double-door shuddered as the brass knocker bolted on was rapped against it.
Taking one last moment to straighten the severe grey shirt he wore over his casual every-day jeans, he reached for the handle, pulling it down with a tug as it stuck for a moment and looking into the faces of two people he'd recognised but never seen in person before. "Daimon! I'm so glad you could make it! Welcome to my little part of the world," he spoke with a grin as he shook hands with the man. "And this must be Katarina! I'm glad you decided to visit me,” he said with a deep smile as he took her hand and bowed slightly. “Please, call me Helvet.”
“Well thank you, Helvet," she said with her own dazzling smile. Reaching for their bags, he helped them bring them in, showing them to the two guest bedrooms he normally kept for family or friends. It only took them a half hour to finish unpacking and wander back to the main hallway just as he left the study again after pulling up the documents he needed. "I'm glad to see you're both settled in. Dinner will be some time later tonight, apologies but I don't really keep a schedule that much."
His rueful look turned to enthusiasm as he spoke again, "Why don't you head over to my study? I've got those notes pulled up for you on that story." He pointed to the door through which he'd emerged with a thumb.
"And perhaps, you'd like to see my little playroom?" he asked with a hopeful smile to Katarina. She nodded, and the pair walked to another door at the end of the carpeted hallway. Shifting the bolt back, he pushed it open and flicked the lightswitch. "Well, this is my home within my home!"
"Wow..." she breathed. "Last time I saw something like this was in a professional dungeon." Her host flushed at the compliment, bowing exaggeratedly. "You do me great honour, m'lady," he said in a comical upper-class English accent. Dropping back to his normal voice, he turned to face the room again. "And that is what I've got waiting for you!"
She looked at the item his finger aimed at. “Stocks? I thought you were supposed to be inventive!” She smiled as she said it.
There was a glimmer of a smile on Helvet's face as he cocked his head to look at her. “Well then, why don't you tell me what this particular one is for.”
“Sure...that big slot's for my head, and the other two are for my wrists, right?”
“Half-right,” he said with a smile tugging at the side of his mouth, “the big slot is for your neck, yes. The smaller ones are for your ankles.”
That stopped her dead as she looked at him with surprise. “You mean...at the same time?”
“Yep,” came the reply that sounded far too cheery for her tastes. He walked off for a moment, fumbling inside a small chest of drawers before pulling something out. The lights glinted off the glass as she realised it was a framed picture and he offered it to her. She examined it while he talked, “That's my, ahem, 'friend',” he said, pointing to the girl in it. Her brown hair was longer than Katarina's, and she had a broad, dimpled smile on her flushed face face. “She's abroad for a little while, and that's from just after our last session.” With a start she realised that the edges of the photo weren't just decoration but a cut-off angle only showing half of her feet as she sat in the stocks that Katarina now stood beside.
Helvet laughed, “Don't worry, she's not a contortionist. A bit of judo really, and she enjoyed it all.”
“How long was she in there?”
He chewed his tongue thoughtfully, “I'd have to say about eight hours. It'd have been longer but we both had to leave the next day to catch the train.” Katarina could feel herself going a little pale at that. Eight whole hours? She wasn't too sure. Just looking at it for a few minutes was bad enough.
He smiled at her. “Not too late to back out...” he suggested, the unspoken meaning clear. If she walked away, she'd be letting Daimon down. Not to mention giving up before she'd even tried.
“No. No, I can do it,” she insisted and he smiled deeper for a moment before pursing his lips.
“Once you're in there, you're staying until it's over. I'll lock the key in a container, okay?”
He opened up the stocks for her, the top half hinging away until it was folded in two and he gestured for her to sit down on the bench behind it. Guiding her legs up the narrow space between the bench and the stocks, Helvet set each ankle in the slots destined for them before he tapped the middle one. Katarina hesitated for a moment, apprehension warring with the fact she’d accepted the challenge he’d laid down the moment she and her friend had got on the plane. Leaning forward, she arranged her braided hair to fall in front of her. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d thought when Helvet had told her what it really was, to her surprise.
“Still okay there?” he asked sympathetically.
“Of course,” she grinned as she tilted her head up at him. “I’m ready for this.”
He nodded silently, “And you realise that once you’re in there, you’re not coming out until I release you, or you use the safeword?”
“I do. Hang on, what’s the safeword?”
“It’s Hansel.” He waited as she repeated it. “Let’s get started then,” he said, pulling the top half of the metal stock-frame back over her head. He picked up two padlocks off the floor where they’d lay underneath the bench and held them in front of her as she goggled at them, each one easily the size of her fist and made of heavy steel. He double-checked her neck and wrists were clearly in the slots before walking behind the stocks. On the reverse side were two hasps, one each near the left and right slots, and it was through these he fastened the padlocks. Taking the keys, he walked around the front again as Daimon appeared with a small wooden lock-box, beckoning him over and crouching in front of Katarina so she could watch him locking the keys inside it. Daimon set the box down on the same chest of drawers where Helvet had taken the photo from, and the two of them stopped to admire her for a moment.
“You were right. It is an incredible sight,” smirked the latter.
Daimon grinned himself, “Well, I guess I'll get back to looking at those notes while I leave you two to it.”
He unlaced each trainer first, savouring the anticipation as she looked down, eager to avoid looking at her vulnerable position. With a single tug on each heel the sneakers came off and he perched each one on the ends of the stock, laces dangling loosely. Beneath them she wore only thin ankle socks, and it was one of these he gently pinched between thumb and forefinger. "I do wonder what's under this," he whispered to her as he slid it off with inexorable slowness. Beneath was a quite beautiful foot, dusky skin on top meeting the pale pinkness of the sole. Each toe was topped with short, immaculate, pedicured toes done in the French manner. Helvet reached out to stroke it, only barely restraining himself and busying his hands with removing the other sock and making sure both were secreted in the shoes they'd occupied not five minutes before, watching as Katarina could only wriggle her feet.
Now he stood back. "I'm going to blindfold you while I set up this next bit. Is that alright with you?" She nodded and he tugged a length of cloth out of his pocket, folding it and wrapping it around her eyes securely. When he was satisfied he walked to a rectangular board mounted upon the wall, thin plywood with hooks drilled through it to hold the tools of his particular 'trade'. He rummaged through it all, idly taking items off the shelf and gathering them in a pile. Eventually he was satisfied and he turned back to the voluntary prisoner with the small hoard in his hands and set it down. If he hadn't blindfolder her, he was sure her eyes would be nearly out of her sockets at the sight of the two devices he'd picked up. It only took him ten minutes or so to set up, thanks to the careful planning he’d done, but he smiled as Katarina showed her impatience by tapping her fingers on the top of the steel section over her head. Finally satisfied with his work, he stepped back towards her and patted her foot. “I’m going to need to tie your wrists now, okay?"
"Yeah that's fine. Not as if I could do anything about it, huh?" she laughed. He just laughed with her as he quickly gathered her wrists together and began to loop the coiled rope around them. He cinched it tightly, "you can't get your hands free can you?"
Her wrists writhed in the confines of the coil for a moment. "Not even a little. What, were you a boyscout?"
"Hilarious," he deadpanned. "Well, everything's ready now. Would you like your blindfold taking off so you can judge my inventiveness for yourself?"
"Sure. I bet it's a pair of feathers isn't it?" she said jokingly.
Helvet grinned as he reached over to unknot the makeshift blindfold, dangling it over the top of the stocks. He heard her breathe in shock as she saw what he'd done. She could just make out the two metal hoops on the floor with what looked like rope running away from her and upwards once it was through them, and next to each of her feet hung a single magic wand. As she tried to crane her neck up to see where they led, he explained what he'd done.
"Each of those wands is attached to a rope, and I've thrown those through a pair of pulleys on the ceiling. Don't try and look at it, you'll sprain your neck and then I'd have to let you out," he teased. "You can see the rope going back under the stocks can't you?"
She nodded silently, still eyeing the two wands as best she could.
"Excellent. It goes under the bench too," he lifted up the two strands and folded them into her hands.
"So what's stopping me from dropping them down?" Katarina asked with an expression of perplexion. He smiled and walked over to the nearest hoop, shoe heels clicking on the laminated wood. "Tell me," he turned to her, "did you see me holding those up?"
"No, but I can't really look up can I?"
"True. The answer is this," he pointed to the hoop, and she craned her neck to try and see it, eyelashes fluttering as she strained to look. She could see now that where she'd thought the rope was bunched up a little, it had actually been folded into a knot nearly twice as big as the gap of the small hoop. "There's one on the other rope. You want them nowhere near your feet, well you can always lift them up. Go ahead, try it." With an effort she arched her arms up, watching as the wands disappeared from sight.
"So then, you're all ready?" he asked eagerly.
"For what?"
Helvet beamed at her, "Call this a breaking-in!" He walked over to the wall-board again, just long enough to pick up what he wanted and go back to her. He fiddled with the small box in his hand before setting it down on the ground beneath her exposed head, facing up towards her. She could clearly see the number on it, "4:0:0". She saw his shoes walking away replaced by the sound as her head refused to look any higher. "Enjoy!" he called back over his shoulder, flicking the power switch and smiling as he heard the first buzz cutting through the air.
Katarina laughed as the first vibrations stroked along her feet, yanking the rope behind her skywards as the counter flipped to "3:59:59" as she began the effort to keep the wands from her soles. She knew she was in for the long-run then.
She could see the damn things spinning as they worked, trembling as the ropes in her hand pulled them up and away. Her arms were already twinging with small aches at the angle she had to hold them to, and the woman decided to let them down a little. She regretted it as soon as she felt them on her toes, spasming in reflex from the unwanted touch, and she pulled her bound wrists up again. Again they went down, and peals of laughter emerged from her as she struggled for a moment, eventually pulling them back up for a respite. Her arms smarted with the effort and she checked the clock again, wincing as she saw the "3:58:35". She had to lower them again, watching as the spinning tip of the one her head was angled towards coming closer and closer to her skin, and she shrieked as it dropped back into place.
She’d given up now. Nearly three hours she’d managed to last but she’d dropped the ropes eventually and now she couldn’t reach them. Instead she was trapped by the pitching and rolling of the wands across her feet, her body shaking the bench and stocks with the force of her exhausted quivering. She didn't have the words to describe the feeling, or the energy. She'd screamed herself hoarse what seemed like an age ago. The wands just hung there, shivering as she soundlessly bucked in frustration. Still, she didn't want to use the safeword. Hevlet and Daimon thought they'd break her? No. She'd never give them that satisfaction...even if she kept dreaming the scenario in her head, shouting it out and seeing them run in to put a stop to it all. So very tempting...until the growl drowned out those thoughts. Stop it? Never, she'd already said she'd do it and that was exactly what she set to do. The grimace of determination masqueraded on her face just before the wands sent it into wordless oblivion as she smiled in anger again.
He spent the time talking with Daimon, the two drinking some of the private reserve he kept besides the desk. It smoothed down the conversation over stories and notes, and the two fell to chit-chatting about random ideas they'd had until the watch upon his wrist beeped in anticipation. "Shall we go check on her?" he asked, Daimon nodding in agreement. The pair wandered into the main room, Helvet counting down the seconds until he finally hit the power switch and the constant drone was silenced.
He strode over to her, stopping only to pick up the wooden box containing the keys to the locks sealing the stocks shut. "How you feeling after that?" asked Daimon, leaning on the framework of the stocks.
"...so damn tired."
"I'll bet," he joined in. "So, what did you think of that?"
"You're...an evil bastard," she panted.
"Why thank you," he beamed. He looked back to Daimon, still smiling down at the tired girl in the stocks. "Do you think she's ready?"
"Oh definitely," agreed the other man.
"Ready for what?" Katarina gasped, her exhausted arms resting as far down her back as she could have them. "Hey, shouldn't you be opening this?" she asked, waving a foot back at the stocks holding her.
"That was breaking-in. That wasn't the main deal." Helvet picked up the clock and began readjusting it while Daimon picked up the strip of fabric and bound it over her eyes once again before gathering the two ropes under the bench and wrapping them around its legs. "You'll be able to hear it now," he murmured, putting the clock back down with the volume turned up. The first man walked back out of the room humming merrily as he went to lock the keybox in his desk-drawer, the latter strolling over to the doorway. Looking back at her, he smiled silently, hitting the power switch once more before turning the lights off. The door clicked shut as he went back to his conversation.
On the floor in front of her, Katarina could only hear the tick-tocking sound of the clock as the wands turned on again, and she screamed as they strobed across her skin, wishing she could see the timer.
Tick... "7:59:58"
Tock... "7:59:57"
Tick... "7:59:56"
Without further ado,
The building was isolated, a mass of weathered stone and thatch roof sitting in the middle of thistle-laden fields besides a flint-bottomed lake. An aged durmast oak sheltered the house from the worst of the wind, looking even immovable than the mossy mortared stones of the house. For years it had rooted there, to the point where those who visited were left with the feeling that the question of what came first, wood or rock, would never be answered. The house was empty for the most part, a legacy of the remoteness and the owner's preference for solitudinous living. He sat alone in the study, a cosy-atmosphered room thick with book-shelves and a desk, attention fixed on a laptop. He rescanned the last few lines again, pleased at what he read there.
Now he just had to make sure everything was ready for his guests.
They arrived two days later. The crunch of gravel was loud enough to cut through the thick-paned glass of the house's windows, and that in itself was uncommon enough. Only a rare few delivery lorries came up the path to drop off large packages, and there were none scheduled for a week now. Patiently, he waited for a moment before standing up to look outside. He could just see the nose of the car, the yellow rental sticker on the bonnet standing out from the dark blue paintwork. Steps crackled over the gravel now and the carven double-door shuddered as the brass knocker bolted on was rapped against it.
Taking one last moment to straighten the severe grey shirt he wore over his casual every-day jeans, he reached for the handle, pulling it down with a tug as it stuck for a moment and looking into the faces of two people he'd recognised but never seen in person before. "Daimon! I'm so glad you could make it! Welcome to my little part of the world," he spoke with a grin as he shook hands with the man. "And this must be Katarina! I'm glad you decided to visit me,” he said with a deep smile as he took her hand and bowed slightly. “Please, call me Helvet.”
“Well thank you, Helvet," she said with her own dazzling smile. Reaching for their bags, he helped them bring them in, showing them to the two guest bedrooms he normally kept for family or friends. It only took them a half hour to finish unpacking and wander back to the main hallway just as he left the study again after pulling up the documents he needed. "I'm glad to see you're both settled in. Dinner will be some time later tonight, apologies but I don't really keep a schedule that much."
His rueful look turned to enthusiasm as he spoke again, "Why don't you head over to my study? I've got those notes pulled up for you on that story." He pointed to the door through which he'd emerged with a thumb.
"And perhaps, you'd like to see my little playroom?" he asked with a hopeful smile to Katarina. She nodded, and the pair walked to another door at the end of the carpeted hallway. Shifting the bolt back, he pushed it open and flicked the lightswitch. "Well, this is my home within my home!"
"Wow..." she breathed. "Last time I saw something like this was in a professional dungeon." Her host flushed at the compliment, bowing exaggeratedly. "You do me great honour, m'lady," he said in a comical upper-class English accent. Dropping back to his normal voice, he turned to face the room again. "And that is what I've got waiting for you!"
She looked at the item his finger aimed at. “Stocks? I thought you were supposed to be inventive!” She smiled as she said it.
There was a glimmer of a smile on Helvet's face as he cocked his head to look at her. “Well then, why don't you tell me what this particular one is for.”
“Sure...that big slot's for my head, and the other two are for my wrists, right?”
“Half-right,” he said with a smile tugging at the side of his mouth, “the big slot is for your neck, yes. The smaller ones are for your ankles.”
That stopped her dead as she looked at him with surprise. “You mean...at the same time?”
“Yep,” came the reply that sounded far too cheery for her tastes. He walked off for a moment, fumbling inside a small chest of drawers before pulling something out. The lights glinted off the glass as she realised it was a framed picture and he offered it to her. She examined it while he talked, “That's my, ahem, 'friend',” he said, pointing to the girl in it. Her brown hair was longer than Katarina's, and she had a broad, dimpled smile on her flushed face face. “She's abroad for a little while, and that's from just after our last session.” With a start she realised that the edges of the photo weren't just decoration but a cut-off angle only showing half of her feet as she sat in the stocks that Katarina now stood beside.
Helvet laughed, “Don't worry, she's not a contortionist. A bit of judo really, and she enjoyed it all.”
“How long was she in there?”
He chewed his tongue thoughtfully, “I'd have to say about eight hours. It'd have been longer but we both had to leave the next day to catch the train.” Katarina could feel herself going a little pale at that. Eight whole hours? She wasn't too sure. Just looking at it for a few minutes was bad enough.
He smiled at her. “Not too late to back out...” he suggested, the unspoken meaning clear. If she walked away, she'd be letting Daimon down. Not to mention giving up before she'd even tried.
“No. No, I can do it,” she insisted and he smiled deeper for a moment before pursing his lips.
“Once you're in there, you're staying until it's over. I'll lock the key in a container, okay?”
He opened up the stocks for her, the top half hinging away until it was folded in two and he gestured for her to sit down on the bench behind it. Guiding her legs up the narrow space between the bench and the stocks, Helvet set each ankle in the slots destined for them before he tapped the middle one. Katarina hesitated for a moment, apprehension warring with the fact she’d accepted the challenge he’d laid down the moment she and her friend had got on the plane. Leaning forward, she arranged her braided hair to fall in front of her. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d thought when Helvet had told her what it really was, to her surprise.
“Still okay there?” he asked sympathetically.
“Of course,” she grinned as she tilted her head up at him. “I’m ready for this.”
He nodded silently, “And you realise that once you’re in there, you’re not coming out until I release you, or you use the safeword?”
“I do. Hang on, what’s the safeword?”
“It’s Hansel.” He waited as she repeated it. “Let’s get started then,” he said, pulling the top half of the metal stock-frame back over her head. He picked up two padlocks off the floor where they’d lay underneath the bench and held them in front of her as she goggled at them, each one easily the size of her fist and made of heavy steel. He double-checked her neck and wrists were clearly in the slots before walking behind the stocks. On the reverse side were two hasps, one each near the left and right slots, and it was through these he fastened the padlocks. Taking the keys, he walked around the front again as Daimon appeared with a small wooden lock-box, beckoning him over and crouching in front of Katarina so she could watch him locking the keys inside it. Daimon set the box down on the same chest of drawers where Helvet had taken the photo from, and the two of them stopped to admire her for a moment.
“You were right. It is an incredible sight,” smirked the latter.
Daimon grinned himself, “Well, I guess I'll get back to looking at those notes while I leave you two to it.”
He unlaced each trainer first, savouring the anticipation as she looked down, eager to avoid looking at her vulnerable position. With a single tug on each heel the sneakers came off and he perched each one on the ends of the stock, laces dangling loosely. Beneath them she wore only thin ankle socks, and it was one of these he gently pinched between thumb and forefinger. "I do wonder what's under this," he whispered to her as he slid it off with inexorable slowness. Beneath was a quite beautiful foot, dusky skin on top meeting the pale pinkness of the sole. Each toe was topped with short, immaculate, pedicured toes done in the French manner. Helvet reached out to stroke it, only barely restraining himself and busying his hands with removing the other sock and making sure both were secreted in the shoes they'd occupied not five minutes before, watching as Katarina could only wriggle her feet.
Now he stood back. "I'm going to blindfold you while I set up this next bit. Is that alright with you?" She nodded and he tugged a length of cloth out of his pocket, folding it and wrapping it around her eyes securely. When he was satisfied he walked to a rectangular board mounted upon the wall, thin plywood with hooks drilled through it to hold the tools of his particular 'trade'. He rummaged through it all, idly taking items off the shelf and gathering them in a pile. Eventually he was satisfied and he turned back to the voluntary prisoner with the small hoard in his hands and set it down. If he hadn't blindfolder her, he was sure her eyes would be nearly out of her sockets at the sight of the two devices he'd picked up. It only took him ten minutes or so to set up, thanks to the careful planning he’d done, but he smiled as Katarina showed her impatience by tapping her fingers on the top of the steel section over her head. Finally satisfied with his work, he stepped back towards her and patted her foot. “I’m going to need to tie your wrists now, okay?"
"Yeah that's fine. Not as if I could do anything about it, huh?" she laughed. He just laughed with her as he quickly gathered her wrists together and began to loop the coiled rope around them. He cinched it tightly, "you can't get your hands free can you?"
Her wrists writhed in the confines of the coil for a moment. "Not even a little. What, were you a boyscout?"
"Hilarious," he deadpanned. "Well, everything's ready now. Would you like your blindfold taking off so you can judge my inventiveness for yourself?"
"Sure. I bet it's a pair of feathers isn't it?" she said jokingly.
Helvet grinned as he reached over to unknot the makeshift blindfold, dangling it over the top of the stocks. He heard her breathe in shock as she saw what he'd done. She could just make out the two metal hoops on the floor with what looked like rope running away from her and upwards once it was through them, and next to each of her feet hung a single magic wand. As she tried to crane her neck up to see where they led, he explained what he'd done.
"Each of those wands is attached to a rope, and I've thrown those through a pair of pulleys on the ceiling. Don't try and look at it, you'll sprain your neck and then I'd have to let you out," he teased. "You can see the rope going back under the stocks can't you?"
She nodded silently, still eyeing the two wands as best she could.
"Excellent. It goes under the bench too," he lifted up the two strands and folded them into her hands.
"So what's stopping me from dropping them down?" Katarina asked with an expression of perplexion. He smiled and walked over to the nearest hoop, shoe heels clicking on the laminated wood. "Tell me," he turned to her, "did you see me holding those up?"
"No, but I can't really look up can I?"
"True. The answer is this," he pointed to the hoop, and she craned her neck to try and see it, eyelashes fluttering as she strained to look. She could see now that where she'd thought the rope was bunched up a little, it had actually been folded into a knot nearly twice as big as the gap of the small hoop. "There's one on the other rope. You want them nowhere near your feet, well you can always lift them up. Go ahead, try it." With an effort she arched her arms up, watching as the wands disappeared from sight.
"So then, you're all ready?" he asked eagerly.
"For what?"
Helvet beamed at her, "Call this a breaking-in!" He walked over to the wall-board again, just long enough to pick up what he wanted and go back to her. He fiddled with the small box in his hand before setting it down on the ground beneath her exposed head, facing up towards her. She could clearly see the number on it, "4:0:0". She saw his shoes walking away replaced by the sound as her head refused to look any higher. "Enjoy!" he called back over his shoulder, flicking the power switch and smiling as he heard the first buzz cutting through the air.
Katarina laughed as the first vibrations stroked along her feet, yanking the rope behind her skywards as the counter flipped to "3:59:59" as she began the effort to keep the wands from her soles. She knew she was in for the long-run then.
She could see the damn things spinning as they worked, trembling as the ropes in her hand pulled them up and away. Her arms were already twinging with small aches at the angle she had to hold them to, and the woman decided to let them down a little. She regretted it as soon as she felt them on her toes, spasming in reflex from the unwanted touch, and she pulled her bound wrists up again. Again they went down, and peals of laughter emerged from her as she struggled for a moment, eventually pulling them back up for a respite. Her arms smarted with the effort and she checked the clock again, wincing as she saw the "3:58:35". She had to lower them again, watching as the spinning tip of the one her head was angled towards coming closer and closer to her skin, and she shrieked as it dropped back into place.
She’d given up now. Nearly three hours she’d managed to last but she’d dropped the ropes eventually and now she couldn’t reach them. Instead she was trapped by the pitching and rolling of the wands across her feet, her body shaking the bench and stocks with the force of her exhausted quivering. She didn't have the words to describe the feeling, or the energy. She'd screamed herself hoarse what seemed like an age ago. The wands just hung there, shivering as she soundlessly bucked in frustration. Still, she didn't want to use the safeword. Hevlet and Daimon thought they'd break her? No. She'd never give them that satisfaction...even if she kept dreaming the scenario in her head, shouting it out and seeing them run in to put a stop to it all. So very tempting...until the growl drowned out those thoughts. Stop it? Never, she'd already said she'd do it and that was exactly what she set to do. The grimace of determination masqueraded on her face just before the wands sent it into wordless oblivion as she smiled in anger again.
He spent the time talking with Daimon, the two drinking some of the private reserve he kept besides the desk. It smoothed down the conversation over stories and notes, and the two fell to chit-chatting about random ideas they'd had until the watch upon his wrist beeped in anticipation. "Shall we go check on her?" he asked, Daimon nodding in agreement. The pair wandered into the main room, Helvet counting down the seconds until he finally hit the power switch and the constant drone was silenced.
He strode over to her, stopping only to pick up the wooden box containing the keys to the locks sealing the stocks shut. "How you feeling after that?" asked Daimon, leaning on the framework of the stocks.
"...so damn tired."
"I'll bet," he joined in. "So, what did you think of that?"
"You're...an evil bastard," she panted.
"Why thank you," he beamed. He looked back to Daimon, still smiling down at the tired girl in the stocks. "Do you think she's ready?"
"Oh definitely," agreed the other man.
"Ready for what?" Katarina gasped, her exhausted arms resting as far down her back as she could have them. "Hey, shouldn't you be opening this?" she asked, waving a foot back at the stocks holding her.
"That was breaking-in. That wasn't the main deal." Helvet picked up the clock and began readjusting it while Daimon picked up the strip of fabric and bound it over her eyes once again before gathering the two ropes under the bench and wrapping them around its legs. "You'll be able to hear it now," he murmured, putting the clock back down with the volume turned up. The first man walked back out of the room humming merrily as he went to lock the keybox in his desk-drawer, the latter strolling over to the doorway. Looking back at her, he smiled silently, hitting the power switch once more before turning the lights off. The door clicked shut as he went back to his conversation.
On the floor in front of her, Katarina could only hear the tick-tocking sound of the clock as the wands turned on again, and she screamed as they strobed across her skin, wishing she could see the timer.
Tick... "7:59:58"
Tock... "7:59:57"
Tick... "7:59:56"
