She stood in the middle of the room, blindfolded, arms drawn up above her. Silken cords wrapped around her wrists holding them up. There was just enough slack that she could almost stand normally. However if her feet returned to a fully flat position the cord would tug painfully at her shoulders and arms. It was simple, effective and I was enjoying the cycle of her moving from pain to pain as I flicked a feather playfully across her skin.
Still it wasn't enough.
Then a thought hit me and I shuffled silently from the room. Returning I disguised my next move by seeming to bend to tickle calfs already quivering with effort. It did not take long for that quivering to give way to collapse.
She screamed as soon as her feet hit the ground. Pure agony coursing through her. Pure unadulterated torture forcing her instantly back onto tip toes.
Outrage filling her voice she wept, "Really Sir? Legos! That's too cruel."