The Citadel Ch. 01: Captured

The hope that he would leave enough slack on the leash to rest her head on the floor was denied a moment later. He pulled the rope to its tautest before knotting it to the iron ring. His move tightened the cords around her neck even more and cut into her windpipe. She had to arch her back and raise her breasts from the floor; else the increasing lack of oxygen would have caused her to pass out. Even in this strained position she had to gasp for breath. Sharp, shallow wheezes escaped her throat with every attempt to suck enough air into her lungs.

Slaphead knelt down before her and tucked a finger beneath her chin. She grunted when he lifted her head enough to look into her wide-opened eyes. "Make yourself comfortable," he taunted her. "I hope you like it, 'cause you will stay here all night long until morning."

She would have spit into his leering face, but the pain in her overstretched shoulders together with the struggle to avoid the chokehold on her neck commanded all of her attention. A croaky sound escaped her lips, as she tried to gather all of her power to find a position where she was able to endure the ache in her tortured limbs.

"Come back, you asshole, and release me!" she managed to splutter out of her constricted throat, as her captor stood up and turned around. Her strangled voice made it sound like a meek plea, which quickly devolved into a coughing fit raking her lungs and chest. He waved a mocking farewell at her and, in the fading light of his lamp, she could only watch helplessly as he closed the iron door to her cell and confined her in utter darkness. She could hear him fiddling with the latch, and then the padlock clicked shut. The last audible sound was the pounding of his footsteps that died slowly away as he climbed his way up out of dungeon, leaving her trussed up and all alone for the long hours of the coming night.