Hostage training (FF/F)
Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2025 9:38 am
Amanda had always felt a sense of pride as she stepped into the gleaming lobby of her office building each morning. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the marble floor, echoing through the spacious room as she walked towards the elevators. The receptionist offered a cheery good morning, which she returned with a nod and a forced smile. At fifty-two, she had climbed the corporate ladder with a tenacity that surprised even herself. The glass and steel tower was a testament to the empire she had built from the ground up.
But today was different. The usual thrill of a new workday was replaced with a knot in her stomach. She knew what awaited her in the conference room on the top floor. Her company had decided that she needed to undergo hostage training, a precautionary measure given the nature of their international dealings. As the CEO, she had to set an example, and so she agreed, despite her reservations.
When the elevator doors slid open, she took a deep breath and walked down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. The conference room was cold and sterile, the walls adorned with motivational posters that seemed to mock her current situation. Inside, two younger women, both dressed in black tactical gear, introduced themselves as Rachel and Lena, her security trainers for the next three days.
They were all business, their expressions serious and professional, as they explained the drill. Amanda's mind raced as she listened to the instructions, trying to prepare herself for the worst-case scenario.
“Lets go then.” Said Lena, her voice firm but not unkind, as she stepped closer to Amanda, pulling out a roll of black masking tape from her back pocket. Rachel took the cue and she too approached the older woman with a similar roll in hand. Amanda took a deep breath as her arms were pulled behind her back. Rachel began by wrapping the tape around her wrists, pulling tight but not to the point of pain. The sticky tape made a soft ripping sound as Rachel tore it with precision, ensuring it was snug. She worked her way up to Amanda’s elbows, creating a restraint that was surprisingly comfortable, given the situation.
Meanwhile Lena knelt before the CEO and began to wrap tape round her ankles binding them together. She then taped Amanda’s legs just below her knees, the black tape sticking to the tan nylon of her stockings. Finallynshe lifted her short skirt slightly to bind her thighs above her knees.
Next, Rachel moved to Amanda’s chest, wrapping the tape around her upper body, securing her arms to her sides. The material restrictive through her blouse, but clearly thatbwas the point, and she could feel her heartbeat beneath it. Rachel’s eyes never left her work, a silent reassurance that she was in control of the process. Despite the professionalism, Amanda couldn’t help but feel a strange vulnerability. Her breathing grew shallower as Rachel continued to wind the tape around her body, round her shoulders taping her upper arms to her sides, her waist pinningbher bound wrists to,the small of her back. The tight bands wrapped around her, leaving her both immobilized yet strangely excuted. She could not help but feel slightly aroused bynthe sudden loss of control: The comfort that she was no longer in charge, and yherefore,not responsible any longer.
Lena stood up,and produced a pinkmgoam ball “Can’t have you call for help. Open up!”
Amanda obeyed, parting her lips slightly. Lena leaned in, pressing the ball into her mouth, the rubbery texture soft but foreign against her tongue. Rachel wrapped another piece of tape around her head, sealing the gag in place. The tape was sticky against her skin, and she felt a strange sensation as the ball filled her mouth, muffling her voice. Rachel then proceeded to tape over her mouth, smoothing the tape down to ensure no sound could escape.
Rachel handed Lena a blindfold and a set of earplugs. Amanda trembled slightly as she was subjected to the loss of her two main senses, the fabric of the blindfold smelling faintly of rubber and the earplugs feeling intrusive in her ears. Her world was now a cocoon of darkness and muffled sounds, leaving her feeling both disoriented and oddly liberated. Rachel and Lena began to guide her, each one holding onto an elbow, leading her as she hopped unsteadily in her heels, through the maze of her office space. Amanda stumbled slightly, her high heels making it difficult to maintain her balance. Rachel whispered into her ear, “Keep hopping bitch, stay calm. This is all part of the training.”
The moment the executive lift doors closed, Rachel’s grip on her tightened, her nails digging slightly into the flesh of Amanda’s arm. The lift descended, the descent feeling endless, the tension in the small space palpable. The ding of the lift arriving at the basement was bareley audible to Amanda thriugh her earplugs and her muffled silence. Rachel and Lena’s footsteps echoed in the deserted space together with the intermittent click of Amanda’s heels as they guided her hopping through the empty parking garage, the scent of oil and concrete heavy in the air.
The cold metal of the car’s boot pressed against her legs as they positioned her. Rachel whispered, “Remember, stay calm, don’t struggle. We’re just training you, okay?” Despite the reassurance, Amanda’s heart raced as she was lifted and placed inside the confined space. The lid slammed shut, the sound echoing in her ears even through the muffled silence.
The journey seemed to take hours, with every bump and turn sending jolts of fear through her body. She felt each bump in the road, the car’s suspension doing little to absorb the impact. The air grew hot and stale, and the smell of rubber and diesel filled her nostrils, making her slightly nauseated. She could feel the vibration of the engine under her, a constant reminder that she was in a situation she never imagined herself to be in. Time blurred together, making it impossible to judge how long they had been driving.
They eventually arrived at an unused warehouse: the old office space within had been transformed into a makeshift holding cell for the training. The room was sparse, with a single chair in the center and a mattress on the floor in the corner. The door closed behind them as Amanda was made to hop, the concrete floor now cold against her stockinged feet having lost hervheels somewhere in the boot of the car, yet niw giving her greater stability both her legs bound.
Amanda was roughly pushed down onto the bare mattress. A final echoing click and the sound of the lock turning , muffled by her ear plugs, was the only indication that they were leaving her. Amanda felt a moment of panic, but it was quickly replaced by a strange sense of excitement. She had never felt so...helpless.
Meanwhile, Rachel and Lena stepped out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them. They walked down the corridor and into the adjacent control room, their footsteps echoing off the metal walls. Lena checked the time on her watch, noting it had been exactly fifty-eight minutes since they had started the scenario. Rachel pulled out a clipboard from the desk, and they both studied the meticulously detailed schedule for the next phase of the training. Two hours of 'solitary' before the proof of life photos.
They nodded to each other in silent understanding, their eyes flicking over the checklist of psychological tactics they were to employ. Rachel leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of the challenge ahead. Lena pulled out her phone and began to set a timer for two hours. They had done this countless times before, but each case was different, each 'trainee' a unique puzzle to be solved.
In the cold, dark room, Amanda wriggled and squirmed against her bindings, desperately trying to find any slack in the tape. The tape had been applied so tightly that it felt like a second skin, the sticky residue rubbing against her flesh with every movement. She whimpered into the gag, her muffled sounds bouncing off the metal walls of the trunk, only adding to the isolation she felt. The darkness was absolute, the blindfold cutting off any glimmer of hope from the outside world.
Her body grew slick with sweat as she fought the tape, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. But every time she thought she felt a bit of give, she would realize it was just her skin stretching. The futility of her efforts weighed on her, and she felt a wave of claustrophobia wash over her. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but the tightness of her chest from the tape only served to intensify her panic.
As the moments stretched into hours, the reality of her situation began to sink in. Her limbs grew numb, and the only thing she could feel was the tape biting into her skin and the gag pressing against her teeth. The initial excitement of the experience had worn off, replaced by a deep-seated fear. Rachel and Lena's voices were distant and muffled, a reminder that she was not alone, but also a taunt of her powerlessness.
Finally, Rachel's timer went off with a sharp beep, piercing the silence. “Time for phase two.” She said to her partner.
Amanda lay in her personal space, bound, gagged, blindfolded, earplugged. She was completely unaware of the world outside her own bidy, especiallybthe plans the girls had for her next.
The door to her makeshift cell opened, and the light from the hallway spilled in. Brhind the blindfold,and earlugs, Amanda was barely aware of anything happening. Rachel and Lena entered, their footsteps firm and deliberate.
Rachel knelt beside her, her voice cold and commanding. “Time to prove you’re still with us, sweetheart. You’re going to be in some photos with today’s newspaper. Don’t worry, it’s just for the training logs.” Despite the reassurance, Amanda’s heart raced as Rachel’s hands began to tug at her clothing and cut the taoe away.
The earplugs were removed, and Rachel’s voice was loud and clear as she told Amanda to strip. Amanda’s trembling hands fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, the sound of fabric tearing as Rachel grew impatient and decided to help. Rachel’s hands were surprisingly gentle, even as she ripped the fabric away, revealing Amanda’s lacy bra. The blindfold remained in place, leaving her in a cocoon of darkness as Rachel’s hands continued to undo her skirt, sliding it down over her hips and leaving her in nothing but her stockings and underwear.
The cool air hit Amanda’s skin as Rachel and Lena worked in a coordinated dance, cutting away the tape that had held her bound for hours. Rachel’s touch was firm but not painful, the sharp blade of the knife slicing through the tape with ease. With a final cut, the tape that held her legs together fell away, and she felt the fabric of her panties being pulled down, leaving her exposed. Her bra and stockings followed and finally her blindfold was removed tigether with her gag. Rachel’s voice grew softer, almost taunting. “Good, now let’s get those photos for proof of life. Just like a good little hostage should.”
Amanda’s eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the single bulb hanging from the ceiling, revealing Rachel holding a rolled-up newspaper. Rachel snapped a few photos of her with the newspaper held up to her face, the headline blurring into an indistinguishable mess. Rachel’s gaze was cold, calculating, as she took the pictures, and Amanda couldn’t help but feel a strange thrill of vulnerability. She had never felt so... bare, so exposed to the world. The flash from the camera was like a sting, a stark reminder of her predicament.
The two women took close ups of the tatoo on her nottom and removed all her jewelry, including her bellybutton piercing. “Justvtomprobe itks all yiu sweetie. “Lena sneered at her.
As the flash from the camera continued to punctuate the air, Rachel’s eyes remained focused on the task at hand, her expression unreadable behind the professional mask she wore. She took a few more shots before nodding to Lena. “Good enough. Time to get her trussed up for the next round.”
They rolled Amanda onto her stomach, and Rachel began to rebind her wrists behind her back with a fresh strip of tape. Amanda’s breath hitched as the material stuck to her sweat-dampened skin, but she remained mostly still, the fear of the unknown keeping her compliant. Lena took the opportunity to cut away the remaining shreds of tape around her ankles and legs, giving Amanda a false sense of hope before they began the process of binding her once more.
The camera flashed again, capturing the stark contrast of Amanda’s naked flesh against the grimy floor. Rachel positioned her onto her side, her legs bent at the knees and bound together, creating a neat package of vulnerability. The newspaper was held up next to her face, the date and headlines clearly visible. Rachel’s cold eyes never left the camera, ensuring each shot was perfect for their records. The flashes painted the room in stark white, leaving Amanda to wonder how many more moments of degradation she would endure before this ordeal was over.
Once the photos were taken, Rachel stood up and nodded to Lena, who retrieved a fresh roll of tape. They worked efficiently together, not speaking a word, their movements precise and rehearsed as they wrapped tape around Amanda’s bodybonce more, restricting every movement. Her blindfold, gag and earplugs were replaced too but this time the women went further. Rachael began to tape Amanda’s fingers together. Starting with index ro middle she adden other fingers , then her thumbs, not finishing until Amanda’s hands were two useless tightly taped balls. Meanwhile, Lena simply taped the captives big toes together.
Rachel’s hands roamed over her body, placing the tape with a cruel precision that sent shivers down her spine. Rachel’s breath was hot on her neck as she leaned in to whisper, “Just remember, this is all for your safety. We need to make sure you know what to expect, so you can handle it if it ever happens for real.”
Amanda nodded, as she felt the tape tighten around her bidy once more, the sticky residue sticking to her skin like a second layer. Rachel’s touch was firm, yet strangely comforting, a paradox of pain and care. Her heart was racing now, but it wasn’t just from fear; there was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
The women stepped back, their work complete, leaving Amanda feeling like a piece of art, or perhaps more accurately, a piece of meat on display. Rachel’s eyes lingered on her, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before it was masked with professional detachment. She took a few steps back and surveyed her handiwork, nodding in satisfaction.
“Good. That should keep you in place for the next few hours,” Rachel said, her voice cool and devoid of any warmth. “Enjoy the break from work if I were you. Remember, This is all for your own good.”
Amanda nodded again, the gag making it difficult to speak and the plugs mufflingbher hearing anyway. The two women turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind them. She was once again left alone, but this time naked too, the only sounds her own ragged breaths and the distant hum of the warehouse’s ventilation system. The tape was tight, but not painfully so, and she felt a strange comfort in the way it held her, as if it were a cocoon keeping her safe from the outside world.
“What’s next in the schedule?” Asked Lena.
Rachael consulted her clop board “Few more hours isolation. Food, then torture.”
But today was different. The usual thrill of a new workday was replaced with a knot in her stomach. She knew what awaited her in the conference room on the top floor. Her company had decided that she needed to undergo hostage training, a precautionary measure given the nature of their international dealings. As the CEO, she had to set an example, and so she agreed, despite her reservations.
When the elevator doors slid open, she took a deep breath and walked down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. The conference room was cold and sterile, the walls adorned with motivational posters that seemed to mock her current situation. Inside, two younger women, both dressed in black tactical gear, introduced themselves as Rachel and Lena, her security trainers for the next three days.
They were all business, their expressions serious and professional, as they explained the drill. Amanda's mind raced as she listened to the instructions, trying to prepare herself for the worst-case scenario.
“Lets go then.” Said Lena, her voice firm but not unkind, as she stepped closer to Amanda, pulling out a roll of black masking tape from her back pocket. Rachel took the cue and she too approached the older woman with a similar roll in hand. Amanda took a deep breath as her arms were pulled behind her back. Rachel began by wrapping the tape around her wrists, pulling tight but not to the point of pain. The sticky tape made a soft ripping sound as Rachel tore it with precision, ensuring it was snug. She worked her way up to Amanda’s elbows, creating a restraint that was surprisingly comfortable, given the situation.
Meanwhile Lena knelt before the CEO and began to wrap tape round her ankles binding them together. She then taped Amanda’s legs just below her knees, the black tape sticking to the tan nylon of her stockings. Finallynshe lifted her short skirt slightly to bind her thighs above her knees.
Next, Rachel moved to Amanda’s chest, wrapping the tape around her upper body, securing her arms to her sides. The material restrictive through her blouse, but clearly thatbwas the point, and she could feel her heartbeat beneath it. Rachel’s eyes never left her work, a silent reassurance that she was in control of the process. Despite the professionalism, Amanda couldn’t help but feel a strange vulnerability. Her breathing grew shallower as Rachel continued to wind the tape around her body, round her shoulders taping her upper arms to her sides, her waist pinningbher bound wrists to,the small of her back. The tight bands wrapped around her, leaving her both immobilized yet strangely excuted. She could not help but feel slightly aroused bynthe sudden loss of control: The comfort that she was no longer in charge, and yherefore,not responsible any longer.
Lena stood up,and produced a pinkmgoam ball “Can’t have you call for help. Open up!”
Amanda obeyed, parting her lips slightly. Lena leaned in, pressing the ball into her mouth, the rubbery texture soft but foreign against her tongue. Rachel wrapped another piece of tape around her head, sealing the gag in place. The tape was sticky against her skin, and she felt a strange sensation as the ball filled her mouth, muffling her voice. Rachel then proceeded to tape over her mouth, smoothing the tape down to ensure no sound could escape.
Rachel handed Lena a blindfold and a set of earplugs. Amanda trembled slightly as she was subjected to the loss of her two main senses, the fabric of the blindfold smelling faintly of rubber and the earplugs feeling intrusive in her ears. Her world was now a cocoon of darkness and muffled sounds, leaving her feeling both disoriented and oddly liberated. Rachel and Lena began to guide her, each one holding onto an elbow, leading her as she hopped unsteadily in her heels, through the maze of her office space. Amanda stumbled slightly, her high heels making it difficult to maintain her balance. Rachel whispered into her ear, “Keep hopping bitch, stay calm. This is all part of the training.”
The moment the executive lift doors closed, Rachel’s grip on her tightened, her nails digging slightly into the flesh of Amanda’s arm. The lift descended, the descent feeling endless, the tension in the small space palpable. The ding of the lift arriving at the basement was bareley audible to Amanda thriugh her earplugs and her muffled silence. Rachel and Lena’s footsteps echoed in the deserted space together with the intermittent click of Amanda’s heels as they guided her hopping through the empty parking garage, the scent of oil and concrete heavy in the air.
The cold metal of the car’s boot pressed against her legs as they positioned her. Rachel whispered, “Remember, stay calm, don’t struggle. We’re just training you, okay?” Despite the reassurance, Amanda’s heart raced as she was lifted and placed inside the confined space. The lid slammed shut, the sound echoing in her ears even through the muffled silence.
The journey seemed to take hours, with every bump and turn sending jolts of fear through her body. She felt each bump in the road, the car’s suspension doing little to absorb the impact. The air grew hot and stale, and the smell of rubber and diesel filled her nostrils, making her slightly nauseated. She could feel the vibration of the engine under her, a constant reminder that she was in a situation she never imagined herself to be in. Time blurred together, making it impossible to judge how long they had been driving.
They eventually arrived at an unused warehouse: the old office space within had been transformed into a makeshift holding cell for the training. The room was sparse, with a single chair in the center and a mattress on the floor in the corner. The door closed behind them as Amanda was made to hop, the concrete floor now cold against her stockinged feet having lost hervheels somewhere in the boot of the car, yet niw giving her greater stability both her legs bound.
Amanda was roughly pushed down onto the bare mattress. A final echoing click and the sound of the lock turning , muffled by her ear plugs, was the only indication that they were leaving her. Amanda felt a moment of panic, but it was quickly replaced by a strange sense of excitement. She had never felt so...helpless.
Meanwhile, Rachel and Lena stepped out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them. They walked down the corridor and into the adjacent control room, their footsteps echoing off the metal walls. Lena checked the time on her watch, noting it had been exactly fifty-eight minutes since they had started the scenario. Rachel pulled out a clipboard from the desk, and they both studied the meticulously detailed schedule for the next phase of the training. Two hours of 'solitary' before the proof of life photos.
They nodded to each other in silent understanding, their eyes flicking over the checklist of psychological tactics they were to employ. Rachel leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of the challenge ahead. Lena pulled out her phone and began to set a timer for two hours. They had done this countless times before, but each case was different, each 'trainee' a unique puzzle to be solved.
In the cold, dark room, Amanda wriggled and squirmed against her bindings, desperately trying to find any slack in the tape. The tape had been applied so tightly that it felt like a second skin, the sticky residue rubbing against her flesh with every movement. She whimpered into the gag, her muffled sounds bouncing off the metal walls of the trunk, only adding to the isolation she felt. The darkness was absolute, the blindfold cutting off any glimmer of hope from the outside world.
Her body grew slick with sweat as she fought the tape, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. But every time she thought she felt a bit of give, she would realize it was just her skin stretching. The futility of her efforts weighed on her, and she felt a wave of claustrophobia wash over her. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but the tightness of her chest from the tape only served to intensify her panic.
As the moments stretched into hours, the reality of her situation began to sink in. Her limbs grew numb, and the only thing she could feel was the tape biting into her skin and the gag pressing against her teeth. The initial excitement of the experience had worn off, replaced by a deep-seated fear. Rachel and Lena's voices were distant and muffled, a reminder that she was not alone, but also a taunt of her powerlessness.
Finally, Rachel's timer went off with a sharp beep, piercing the silence. “Time for phase two.” She said to her partner.
Amanda lay in her personal space, bound, gagged, blindfolded, earplugged. She was completely unaware of the world outside her own bidy, especiallybthe plans the girls had for her next.
The door to her makeshift cell opened, and the light from the hallway spilled in. Brhind the blindfold,and earlugs, Amanda was barely aware of anything happening. Rachel and Lena entered, their footsteps firm and deliberate.
Rachel knelt beside her, her voice cold and commanding. “Time to prove you’re still with us, sweetheart. You’re going to be in some photos with today’s newspaper. Don’t worry, it’s just for the training logs.” Despite the reassurance, Amanda’s heart raced as Rachel’s hands began to tug at her clothing and cut the taoe away.
The earplugs were removed, and Rachel’s voice was loud and clear as she told Amanda to strip. Amanda’s trembling hands fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, the sound of fabric tearing as Rachel grew impatient and decided to help. Rachel’s hands were surprisingly gentle, even as she ripped the fabric away, revealing Amanda’s lacy bra. The blindfold remained in place, leaving her in a cocoon of darkness as Rachel’s hands continued to undo her skirt, sliding it down over her hips and leaving her in nothing but her stockings and underwear.
The cool air hit Amanda’s skin as Rachel and Lena worked in a coordinated dance, cutting away the tape that had held her bound for hours. Rachel’s touch was firm but not painful, the sharp blade of the knife slicing through the tape with ease. With a final cut, the tape that held her legs together fell away, and she felt the fabric of her panties being pulled down, leaving her exposed. Her bra and stockings followed and finally her blindfold was removed tigether with her gag. Rachel’s voice grew softer, almost taunting. “Good, now let’s get those photos for proof of life. Just like a good little hostage should.”
Amanda’s eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the single bulb hanging from the ceiling, revealing Rachel holding a rolled-up newspaper. Rachel snapped a few photos of her with the newspaper held up to her face, the headline blurring into an indistinguishable mess. Rachel’s gaze was cold, calculating, as she took the pictures, and Amanda couldn’t help but feel a strange thrill of vulnerability. She had never felt so... bare, so exposed to the world. The flash from the camera was like a sting, a stark reminder of her predicament.
The two women took close ups of the tatoo on her nottom and removed all her jewelry, including her bellybutton piercing. “Justvtomprobe itks all yiu sweetie. “Lena sneered at her.
As the flash from the camera continued to punctuate the air, Rachel’s eyes remained focused on the task at hand, her expression unreadable behind the professional mask she wore. She took a few more shots before nodding to Lena. “Good enough. Time to get her trussed up for the next round.”
They rolled Amanda onto her stomach, and Rachel began to rebind her wrists behind her back with a fresh strip of tape. Amanda’s breath hitched as the material stuck to her sweat-dampened skin, but she remained mostly still, the fear of the unknown keeping her compliant. Lena took the opportunity to cut away the remaining shreds of tape around her ankles and legs, giving Amanda a false sense of hope before they began the process of binding her once more.
The camera flashed again, capturing the stark contrast of Amanda’s naked flesh against the grimy floor. Rachel positioned her onto her side, her legs bent at the knees and bound together, creating a neat package of vulnerability. The newspaper was held up next to her face, the date and headlines clearly visible. Rachel’s cold eyes never left the camera, ensuring each shot was perfect for their records. The flashes painted the room in stark white, leaving Amanda to wonder how many more moments of degradation she would endure before this ordeal was over.
Once the photos were taken, Rachel stood up and nodded to Lena, who retrieved a fresh roll of tape. They worked efficiently together, not speaking a word, their movements precise and rehearsed as they wrapped tape around Amanda’s bodybonce more, restricting every movement. Her blindfold, gag and earplugs were replaced too but this time the women went further. Rachael began to tape Amanda’s fingers together. Starting with index ro middle she adden other fingers , then her thumbs, not finishing until Amanda’s hands were two useless tightly taped balls. Meanwhile, Lena simply taped the captives big toes together.
Rachel’s hands roamed over her body, placing the tape with a cruel precision that sent shivers down her spine. Rachel’s breath was hot on her neck as she leaned in to whisper, “Just remember, this is all for your safety. We need to make sure you know what to expect, so you can handle it if it ever happens for real.”
Amanda nodded, as she felt the tape tighten around her bidy once more, the sticky residue sticking to her skin like a second layer. Rachel’s touch was firm, yet strangely comforting, a paradox of pain and care. Her heart was racing now, but it wasn’t just from fear; there was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
The women stepped back, their work complete, leaving Amanda feeling like a piece of art, or perhaps more accurately, a piece of meat on display. Rachel’s eyes lingered on her, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before it was masked with professional detachment. She took a few steps back and surveyed her handiwork, nodding in satisfaction.
“Good. That should keep you in place for the next few hours,” Rachel said, her voice cool and devoid of any warmth. “Enjoy the break from work if I were you. Remember, This is all for your own good.”
Amanda nodded again, the gag making it difficult to speak and the plugs mufflingbher hearing anyway. The two women turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind them. She was once again left alone, but this time naked too, the only sounds her own ragged breaths and the distant hum of the warehouse’s ventilation system. The tape was tight, but not painfully so, and she felt a strange comfort in the way it held her, as if it were a cocoon keeping her safe from the outside world.
“What’s next in the schedule?” Asked Lena.
Rachael consulted her clop board “Few more hours isolation. Food, then torture.”