It was warm and humid inside the small concrete room. Although she was naked, she was perspiring profusely.
She tried to move her arms, but found them behind her body, chained together by a pair of handcuffs, a rope linking her cuffed wrists to the ceiling, the rope pulling up her arms strappado style, forcing her body to bend forward and down, her face at the same level as her butt.
Her shoulder sockets, internally rotated in an unnatural way, were on the verge of being dislocated. She could take the pressure off only by standing on her tiptoes, for a short while, inevitably growing tired and reverting back to standing on her heels.
She tried to move her legs, but her ankles were tied to the ends of a thick bamboo pole, four feet apart. Not only did the spread legs made it difficult to stand on tiptoes, it humiliated her as a woman, made her feel vulnerable.
She repeated the cycle, standing on tiptoes to ease the strain on the shoulder joints, her calve and thigh muscles trembling within minutes, letting go and again torturing the shoulders. The roaring male laughter each time it happened made her aware that there were men watching her, treating her as entertainment.
She tried to move her head, but discovered a rope tied loosely around her neck, the other end of the rope tied to the middle of the bamboo pole, the rope tugging behind her neck whenever she tried to stand up straight. Her knees were forced to bend slightly to ease the pressure behind her neck.
Even with the neck rope, she could still rotate her head from side to side. When she turned to her left, she saw a man with a tattoo of an eagle on his right bicep, shirtless and wearing only soiled jeans, standing a few feet from her. With her legs spread and body bent, it was hard to tell how tall he was. She was staring straight at his crotch, which seemed to be hardening as he approached.
She turned away, pivoted and looked to the right. The shock hit her like a ton of bricks. She blinked repeatedly, closed her eyes and counted to ten, and would have rubbed them vigorously if her hands were free.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Cody Laria sitting in a plastic chair in front of her, one leg crossed at right angles on top of the other, his smile so wide his molars were visible. This could not be happening. She was a good judge of character. How could this be? She would have pinched her own nipple to make sure she was not dreaming if she was not strapped down.