This is my fourth contribution to:
The 750 Word Project 2024
The wheel. I can hear it whirling. They were testing it. Hear, but not see. They had put the blindfold on me just after I had been secured in the pillory. Kneeling forward, my neck and wrists encased in padded oak. My legs also encased, but in skin-tight leather boots; my only clothing. A metal tube affixed to each ankle. My legs splayed apart.
The room is warm, my knees comfortable on more padding. And yet I shiver. Low voices murmur, discussing the technical. The whirring stops. Then a squelch. I knew the sound, I squeezed such bottles myself. Yet it was sinister in my sight-deprived state.
Not all was dark. Dull light filtered into the periphery of my vision. But I was still disoriented. I startle as fingers touch me. Spreading cold gel. Slipping inside my tight ring. Then scraping, as of something heavy and metallic being dragged over concrete.
Hands on me again. Parting. Holding me spread. Another scrape. Followed by pressure. Not unpleasant. I was used to the feeling. My flesh yields. More scraping and they seem satisfied. A voice: "turn the wheel."