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She could hear muffled rock music, PJ Harvey? playing in the room outside. But could see nothing. Nervous she struggled briefly, but her hands and neck were clenched tight in the stocks and the little test convinced her, if it was needed, that she was bound, helpless. Her forehead rested on what seemed like a little leather-covered shelf inside the box. She could feel a soft current of air on her body outside the box, feel the goosebumps it raised. She waited.

A little video screen flickered to life a few inches from her face and a couple of tiny bulbs with it. She looked around the box, but there was nothing, black wood walls, the lights and the screen. She couldn’t even see her hands, they were behind partitions. Video came up on the screen, three cameras, but no sound. In a corner window she could see her face. In the camera, she looked calm, blank, resigned maybe. She was made up for a photo shoot, but in fact it looked like her face was not going to be what was on display.

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