The deep financial crisis had changed everything. That, and the dramatic Shift of the new administration to a form of the most radical capitalism the world had ever seen. In many ways, Thorin didn't recognize the country anymore, compared to what it had been five years before. The change felt almost science fiction like or fantasy.
Of course, Barry finished up first again. That was because he worked with leather and rubber restraints; things that went 'zip and click', as Thorin liked to call them.
Rope work was much more intricate, but then again, had so much more esthetic value in his opinion. And he wasn't even that far behind.
Chris Wright watched with growing fascination as his wife undertook vehement efforts to free herself from the rubber minidress that held her captive. The shiny fabric clung to her body in such a way that not only her breasts but even her vulva was lined out embarrassingly clearly. The main feature of the garment, however, was the integral pouch that kept her arms folded behind her back.
Back in the attic, in his studio, he began the completion of the torture audio file. First, he listened back the part he had already recorded. Even at a very low volume, it was quite disturbing. It started with his fingernails scraping over an old school board, multiplied five times. After three minutes of that, the sirens all of a sudden started to wail, high pitched and ear piercing, followed by the sound of a baby crying at the top of its lungs. Then a lull, after whicht he message was presented, in his own voice.
"Mrs. Pearse, on the wall, beside the door you can find a little drawing depicting what I want you to do. Please copy the image as best as you can. And don't forget to put the gag in first. As soon as you are in position, the noise will stop..."