Helen was alone, cold and cramped, in a nearly empty loft, with just a few odds and needs of stuff scattered on the floor. No furniture, but a bar on one side of the large room, and a pulley in the ceiling

She was on her knees, naked, with cords of rope binding her legs tightly above her knees; her ankles were bound as were her arms. It seemed to her that yard after yard of rope had been used, to wrap her arms tightly together, behind her back, from her wrists to her elbows… If she could have seen herself, she would have seen her own arms bound in white, like gloves, from wrists to elbows. But all she knew was that her arms ached and ached. She felt her arms and shoulders go numb long ago; now there was only an insistent throb of pain from her shoulders.

The way her arms were tied behind her back made her breasts jut out. Ropes had been crisscrossed over and under her breasts, the rope cutting into her back, then under her left breast, then over her right; over her right breast, under her left and under her arms and across her back. She couldn’t decide which hurt more, the throb of her arms and shoulder blades or the sharper cut of the ropes across her back and over and under her breasts. Wide white adhesive tape was crisscrossed over her mouth; she could say nothing, except moan slightly behind the tape.

She had been bound in the morning—she long ago lost track of the time—it must be after noon or perhaps late in the afternoon or even night—she had no way of knowing. All she knew of her world was the pain of the ropes cutting into her and the ache in her arms and shoulders. She felt a throb of pain with every heartbeat and with every breath. When her heart beat, she felt the throb and stab of pain through her pin