Chapter 4

I hang suspended from the ceiling by my wrists, the rough hemp ropes biting into my skin, my bare toes barely brushing the cold concrete floor.

My back arches just enough to keep the strain from tearing my shoulders apart, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

The black lace bra they made me wear does little to contain my heavy breasts, the fabric stretched taut over my nipples, which have stiffened into aching points from the chill and the anticipation.

My matching thong ...