Two hours in silence and darkness, bound in painful steel and weighed down by what sounds like immeasurable burden… Some becomes a portion of their scenario as though it were fact and not a thing within the grasp of their control. Master James finds out a glee from the research of His victims breaking points. The more he assesses His servant abigail the harder it’s for Him to find that sweet spot, but without fail, he’ll always find it.Adorned having an eerie gunny sack that covers an even more criminally eerie gimp hood… slave abigail sits leaping and in shadow onto a large stool. She’s prompted to do what looks like a simple task outside of her many predicaments that were distracting. “Tell me a story” Master James urges.And right from the gate, slave abigail finds herself challenged in a way that she hadn't even predicted.Struggling in her first attempt to entertain her captor, her story fails abruptly when it leads down a dead end road on Vanilla Lane. Master James has a means of motivating his slave to greatness though so she begins again. . She finds a crack into his psyche when she begins to tell a tale that mirrors his own beginnings and His appetite for larger and larger prey. As her narrative would slow as she analyzed His reactions he would urge her to continue on with one of His many motivational tools. You know…like flame throwers and explosives or strength instruments with abrasive alterations or even the bone frightening shower of water… the sounds of metal scraping on metal and flesh along with the unmistakable sound of a massive sickle being honed of its rust before being dragged across the skin. Dehumanized, weighed down, bound, wet, chilly and then suddenly burning, forced to do and entertain, exhausted, hungry and challenged at each point. A really spectacular vision to see as this interaction unfolds organically.
