Her delivery method speaks lucidly of where she has been and where she is going. She slowly wakes to a gentle rocking and tug at her body - Confined to a coffin like container lined with foam, a sensory deprivation hood seals her head with a smothering pressure.A built in Anesthesia Mask covers her nose and mouth orifices permitting the fetid air of her confinement to oxygenate her.The sound of her breath rushes into her consciousness - What's on my face - hugging it - squeezing it - sticking to me?She holds her breath - dead silence. Flexing her body, it is held fast by an unyielding resistance.As her senses slowly reveal an unfathomable state - a waking nightmare materializes. She feels hot - pressure builds throughout her body. Her arms feel numb and will not move.She is tightly wrapped with plastic film and bound with webbing. Her feet, strapped into 6" stiletto heels.Helplessly probing a suffocating darkness, her mind roars over the loud rasps of stale air. She gasps, desperately straining against the enclosure as her body aches for oxygen.Clank, Clank, Clank, The worm rolls out of her pupa - she feels a sudden cold hardness pressing against her.From the confines of a minimalist prison her senses explode as she is manhandled by a dangerous new force.Cut from the womb of her plastic wrap forensic shield, she is quickly hogtied. Then, a loud but distant command orders her to her knees.She struggles to obey - her writhing becomes more frantic as the jarring jolt jabs of a shock saber stab her again and again.Her air orifice whistles as she gulps between screams.He grabs her by the neck, yanking her to her knees.The method is time tested - assault her senses; flood her mind with shock, horror and confusion.Still hogtied, kneeling, balanced precariously, she feels her head yanked back - he places a rebreather bladder over the hood's only opening. Her mouth is packed - crammed with a large sponge and sealed with a band of tightly wrapped vinyl tape. Her eyes are stretched wide as the terror of this madman's machinations unfold before her. He approaches, clinching a brass rod and a long snaking red cable attached at the end.

"As we sat at our computers around the world we saw a young woman being tortured. We saw her stripped naked. She was put into a frame and she was caned. Hard, brutal strokes, leaving vicious looking weals. She screamed repeatedly. She begged for the caning to stop. But the assault on her helpless body continued. And then what happened later? She was in this big copper sink, half submerged in water, unable to hear anything, unable (as she told us later) to see anything except for the light above. Being repeatedly shocked with electricity, never with any warning. At times a wet cloth was put over her face and she couldn't breathe. She was helpless, in pain and very frightened. At least one regular member had to stop watching because *he* couldn't take it any more.

And yet afterwards this same young woman was sitting in the chat, positively bouncing in her chair, and she didn't need to tell us how good she had found the show, it was so obvious from her laughs and smiles. She was really proud of herself for taking that caning; she had broken through a personal barrier and her wonderful sense of achievement was there for us all to see. And her bath in the copper sink? She had enjoyed it all!" - Ghost

OT monitors Hazel’s dalliance with the Janitor, and decides she is no longer worthy of the comforts of the cage. She is confined to the cold cement floor. Her toes and thumbs bent back to the shackles. Her arms and legs hogtied to the Pear locked in her cunt. OT canes the soles of her feet and covers her with a single tail whipping. She is prepared for her departure to the farm as she stares down into the swirling wormhole of water.

She’s wired and bundled for her transport to the studio. 49 proved herself, dramatically, during her audition; squirting, hair hanging, challenging ties, and a pulsing quim. The next test — beyond our influence and the passage of time; does she make the call: “I want to come back”. Ok, can she act? Let’s do an abduction skit. A good place to store a girl while you go get the container is hogtied in a bathtub. Can she have her head held under water — start filling the tub and we shall see. For the trip she is readied with a ball tie. A cunt napkin wrapped around a tube and held in her mouth with electrical tape will get the face hole ready. Plug the nether hole with a dildo and finish with the anal electrical insert. Can she handle confinement and abandonment while she is transported to the studio. We can quill any restlessness with some pulses up her anus. The epitome of remote control. We have arrived. The members are restless. They know the script before hand. She has a tennis ball mouth. It's a great gag. One can squeeze and push it behind their teeth. They can't push it out. Dump her out of the box and let the show begin.