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asked her jovially and although she had tried her best to indicate that what she wanted was to be freed and allowed to leave, he just smiled and nodded and chose to interpret her gag-muffled protests as consent to continue.
    “Good, good. That’s the spirit, my dear. Now, this first test is quite simple and will indicate how someone in a hostage situation might react to the stress of her situation. But, of course, as you are merely playing a part and are in no actual danger, it is necessary for us to simulate the tension that a real captive would feel.”
    He had paused then to fetch a long, thick, blunt-headed rod with a second, shorter, pointed shaft diverging at an angle from it, both covered in a rubbery coating with a coiled lead plugged into its base and as she gazed at it in sudden foreboding, he had continued calmly, “So in order to achieve that end, this device will be inserted into your sex and is programmed to provide both sexual stimulation of varying levels and random and very minor electric shocks of a totally non-harmful nature. Thus combining the physical stress of erotic arousal with the mental tension of uncertainty as to when and for how long, the shocks will occur. So if you would be kind enough to spread your legs, I will position the device and we can begin the test.”
    Wide-eyed, Paula had stared in horrified fascination at the rod, imagining the havoc it would create in her helpless body and trying desperately to think of some way to save herself from the torment to come. Until Professor Goss had frowned and snapped, “Come along, Paula, I’m waiting,” and she had known that there was no escape.
    Allowing her ankles to part to the full extent of her hobble-chain, she had gasped as he slid open the zip at her groin, then gasped again as the thick shaft penetrated deep into her body, stretching and filling her with its length and girth, while the shorter section nestled against the projecting bud of her clitoris, the rod’s entry aided by the slippery juices of an intense arousal that to her humiliation, she had been unable to resist.
    Then he had closed the zip, leaving the lead dangling and begun to bind her even more thoroughly.
    Balanced on tip-toe by the enormous seven-inch heels of her ballet-boots, Paula stood rigidly erect on the base-plate of the hoist, incapable of any movement other than the blinking of her blue eyes.
    Every few inches from ankles to neck, wide bands of stretchy black packaging tape compressed her rubber-clad form, each band encircling her completely and so tightly that her flesh bulged from between every loop in confirmation of the security of her bonds.
    With her body held in position by two shaped metal straps clamped around her neck and ankles and bolted to the hoist’s frame, she could not even lower her head because of the strong chain running from the top of her hood to the lifting-point above her.
    To complete her hopeless plight, the wire that emerged from between her strapped-together thighs betrayed the fact that she was still at the mercy of the device lodged in her belly…and of Professor Goss who controlled it.
    She stared across the thirty feet that separated her from where he sat at a computer typing up his notes, her mind whirling with fear and excitement and arousal and guilt, knowing that when he had finished, her test would begin…and barely able to contain her ashamed anticipation.
    Utterly helpless and unable to do a single thing to avoid her fate, she had no choice but to accept whatever came and that stark truth absolved her of any responsibility.
    Professor Goss was in charge and to tell the truth, she was beginning to enjoy having no say in what he made her do, or did to her. Somehow, being in his bondage, even bondage as tight and inescapable as he insisted she wore, was much more thrilling than she had imagined, giving her a deep, visceral pleasure that kept her in a constant ferment of excitement and simmering arousal.
    Partly because