Author's Note: This is based of a Kinky Escape Room game that I ran last year, that had a noir flare to it.

Hope you like it.

All questions and comments are welcome and encouraged :)


Part 1

"You have a card? Not exactly the field of work you'd expect someone to advertise in." He said, lightly tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. The card showed a golden mask on a black background with the words "Esoteric Acquisitions" written in the same golden color, in small intricate letters.

"A reputation is all we have, Mr. Whitfield, and first impressions are so very important." She said, twirling her wineglass around in small circles.

The dimly lit café hid many things, unlike her dress that curved around her in all the right places.

Rain drizzled down the windows, blurring the outside, making the whole café seem smaller.

"I have a job for you" the well dressed gentleman said as he leaned forward. He wore a 3 piece brown suit that fit him like the skin of a snake.

"Oh, and here I thought you sought my company, having wined and dined me." The dark haired woman spoke teasingly, resting her chin on her hands as she waited for him to continue.

He glanced back at the dame, "Another time perhaps" he grinned back. Charming. Slimy.

"Right now, I would like to discuss an opportunity for both of us"

She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"An important man died a few days ago, Edward Caldwell. He was a collector. Old money. He had no beneficiaries, so his entire estate will be auctioned off, to various interested parties.

I would like to acquire some of those things for my private collection."

"Would it not be simpler to go to the auction and buy them, instead of paying for my services? Cheaper too." She answered, sipping her wine.

He paused to answer. "The late Mr. Caldwells estate was extensive. Some of the objects are rare originals, which are bound to attract wealthy buyers. So wealthy, that I fear that they may have made deals with the auction officials, for a more private deal. I would simply like, lets say, first pick from the lot."

"You must have something specific in mind, Mr. Whitfield, what is it you're after?" She asked.

"Before I tell you, I require you to either accept the job now, or rescind it." He spoke, waiting for an answer.

"You've intrigued me, Mr. Whitfield, I accept your offer." Putting her glass down, the teasing grin that she had been wearing, changed to a more professional expression. "Which item would you like me to aquire?

"It's a book. An old tome. They're holding the auction in the family manor, and since the collection is extensive, the auction may take quite some time."

She made an inquisitive face, "A day or two" he added.

"I want you to acquire this book, and get out of the house during this event. The event is private, but I have secured you an invitation to it.

"Why during? Shouldn't I just go in now, and get it?"

"When I said that the collection is extensive, I meant it. The things from the old manor could fill a small warehouse. I only know where the book is going to be. It is also not unguarded, as there is significant wealth there, thus one cannot search at their leisure. If someone was to attempt to steal the book prior to the auction, and fail, they would increase security and the book would be lost to me. I believe this will be the safer choice.

He took out a folder, and handed it to her.

"This should contain all the relevant information that you need about Mr. Caldwell, the estate, and the item, along with the invitation I mentioned."

She took a glance at the contents of the folder while he continued

"This has to be done discreetly, without attracting unwanted attention. Should such attention reach you, I will deny any and all knowledge of our connection."

He paused and took out a small envelope and slid across the table.

"Here is your initial payment. You get the rest once I have the book.

"Well then, it seems I have my work cut out for me Mr. Whitfield. I'll see you at the auction, as it appears that I have some things to study until then." She took the folder and envelope, sliding them into her purse. She stood up, and glided elegantly towards the door.

"Until then Mr. Whitfield"

"Until then Ms. Morcef"

The Auction

The road stretched through the rural area around the city. The sun was precariously low on the horizon. In the ever reddening light, a car drove the dirt road towards the mansion. It loomed over the moors around it, built on a small hill, which was probably the one thing around the place that kept it from sinking into the mud around it. A large garden covered the rest of the hill, but most of it was hidden by a tall hedge. Elizabeth parked her car, and got out.

The young woman had dressed for the occasion, A knee length black dress, and a small purse, with a large thin shawl acting like a cloak around her shoulders. It billowed slightly in the warm late summer breeze.

Before her lay a large structure, old and regal. She went over her plan in her head.

She needed to get into the building, up to the third floor, where Caldwell's study had been. According to Whitfield, it was the most secure room in the building, and it was far away from the rest of the guests. She agreed. If the book wasn't on display, it would be there.

If not, she would feign getting lost, and walk away with the advance she'd gotten.

Other cars were arriving, parking in the large area in front of the manor.

More people than I would expect, she thought to herself, as she made her way towards the door. There were wealthy people of every age, in fine clothing, finer than hers by any metric. There was also a group of five men that strode past her on the way. Suits, and a grim demeanor. Some were taking this auction more seriously than others.

The procession of the rich made its way into the house, and she followed. The mansion opened up in the foyer, revealing two large staircases, one on either side. In each stood a large man in fine clothing, clearly a member of the staff. She did need to get up. There were probably better ways than here.

She made her way through the double doors into the main hall of the manor. It was huge. Even without the furniture the place projected opulence and power. In place of the furniture, the hall now sported a multitude of glass cabinets, holding what would be bid on. There would be an hour long viewing of all the items that would be sold today. This gave her plenty of time to scout the place out before the auction started and everyone would be busy.

She wandered among the exhibits, and couldn't help but admire some of them. This was apparently an extensive and interesting collection of items that the old man had acquired. Scrolls written in strange languages, ritual clothing and exotic weapons.

Among the items were also some items with a bit more... personal function, she soon gathered, looking at thigh high ballet boots, adorned with locks, along with various corsets and a collection of lingerie. In another glass cabinet there lay more things, whips, chains, and something that looked like a strange pair of underwear that she was not familiar with. It did have some attachments of a phallic nature, and she realized that what she was looking at must be a chastity belt, and not built for the truly chaste. Lost in thought, she heard some chuckles around her. Thinking them aimed at her, She blushed and looked around, but recovered quickly when she noticed the giggles were coming from a group of young women viewing the same item.

"Oh, it has a description!" she heard one of the young women exclaim.

"Made by the Italian inventor Etrizzi, this belt was meant to pacify a witch of great power, which terrorized the lands around Lombardy. Etrizzi was infamous for dabbling in magic himself, hinting at the magical nature of his inventions."

"Maybe we can buy this and pacify you Emily!" The young blonde said to one of her friends. The brunette's face became a solid red color, and the rest of the group sprang into laughter. The gaggle of girls skittered further through the exhibition.

Her gaze lingered on the items, many of which were of a similar nature, saddles, restraints of all kinds, metal rings, hoods, and pieces of leather. She noticed Mr. Whitfield on the other side of the room, looking at some of these exhibits, and the two exchanged a glance. Would he be bidding? Probably, to maintain his cover.

He seemed the type to be looking over your shoulder while you worked.

Enough browsing.

She had to get to the upper floors, where the book reportedly was. She searched for a discreet staircase, unlike the one in the foyer.

Eventually she noticed a sole servant, guarding a lone staircase in a near hallway.

She would have to lure him away with something.

Or someone, she thought.

The gaggle of girls were still exploring the strange collection. They seemed out of place in the whole affair, but they brought a kind of a light touch to it. Once in a while they would read out a description of some piece or another of the lurid collection, suppressing laughter, trying to embarrass one another.

Elizabeth maneuvered through the crowd, and got in front of them, looking for the same kind of items of restraint that the girls seemed so interested in. In one of the more isolated cabinets, situated near one of the exits out of the main hall, she saw something resembling a leather bag, or a sleeve, that the description said was "A French discipline sleeve, meant to relieve the wearer of their use of arms". In the case there was also a simple ring gag, along with a small collar and leash.

Might do the trick if I'm lucky, she thought.

She leant in close to look at the items, grabbing from her purse a small angular metal thing, pushed it into the lock, and wobbled it around until she could turn the lock, opening the cabinet. She left it slightly ajar, and wandered off, keeping an eye on the small group of girls coming closer.

"...I don't know if you'd be able to get back off that if it was turned on" one of the girls exclaimed about a strange saddle in one of the cases, as they moved towards the now open case.

The blonde leader of the group paused as they got to the next exhibit, as she noticed the open case before them, eyeing the sleeve and the other items.

"Hey, girls!" Her voice dropped into a conspiratory whisper as she looked around. "This one is open". Maybe we can take some of these out for a test run.

We'll return them after."

"Are you crazy? They'll catch us!"

"That's what makes it exciting, now play lookouts for me."

Reluctantly the other girls stood in front of the third one, which opened the cabinet, taking the items out. No one seemed to notice so far.

"Now come on, into the hallways."

As the girls snuck away, presumably to tie their friend up, Elizabeth, with a smirk on her face, followed them, and kept within earshot.

After a few minutes, she heard the faint noises of "Mmmphhh!"

"Stop struggling! You look good in this, I should keep you like this".

She made her way to the staircase yet again, making a concerned look on her face as she approached the guard.

"Excuse me mister, some of the girls snuck into one of the cabinets on exhibit, and they're playing with the items."

"What? Where are they madam?" The tall bearded man asked.

Pointing to where she knew the giggles were coming from, the man made his way into the chamber, calling something to another staff member, talking to him briefly.

As they walked out of sight, Elizabeth followed them for a few footsteps, then doubled back, disappearing upstairs, up to the third floor.

The Room

The clamour of the patrons downstairs faded as she walked softly upon the carpeted floors in the manor. She started looking for her quarry.

After a brief search, she came across an ornate door. This might be it, she thought.

Grabbing the lockpick from her purse, she worked the lock, until the large door swung open, revealing a large room adorned with books, strange instruments and paintings. She grinned, and entered, locking the door behind her.

"Like a cabinet of curiosities" she mused to herself as she searched the room. The books that adorned the large bookcase were old, and in a multitude of languages with titles like; "Von Pinzler's Primer to Runes and Revelations" and "Di Morte Affamati". She didn't have a title to look for, but these didn't meet the description Whitfield had given her. The tome she was looking for was larger than these. She noticed that there were several locked strongboxes around the room, with 4 digit combination locks on them. Ignoring those for now, her eyes became fixed on a large pedestal in the corner, which seemed to be the right size for a large tome, curiously empty. She suddenly heard somebody fiddling with the lock of the door. Ducking beneath the large desk, she hid, tucking her dress further under it. She heard the door being opened, and somebody entering the room, and laying something carefully on the pedestal.

"The private viewing is over. We have a buyer. Keep the book here until they finalize the details. Lock the door and stand guard until then. It might take them an hour or so.

Keep an eye out for any trespassers.

"Of course, sir" a man answered.

Elizabeth sat underneath the large desk, with eyes wide, and heart pounding. Trying her hardest not to make a peep as they exited the room and the heavy lock of the door slid into place.

Fuck. They'll find me in here, and I can't leave.

Even if I manage to hide in the room, I'll still fuck up the job.

I need to get out of here.

She looked around the room, breathing heavily as the weight of the trouble she was in crystallized. She'd be caught, and prison was not something she aspired to. Whispering to herself "It's ok, it's ok, you just have to get out of there, you just need to calm down."

She glanced over to the large ornate tome that clearly fit Whitfield's description. on the pedestal.

Ok. I got the book, now to get out of here.

She looked over her options of escape.

The window in the room was a small one, that could only open a little bit, and she was quite a ways from the ground below, making that avenue of escape useless.

Broken legs did not run far.

The door she came in was both locked and there was a man guarding it for the potential buyer of this apparently infamous book she had been sent to steal. She noticed however, that once the door had been locked, the conversation had continued, but almost completely muffled. The room was nearly soundproof. At least she didn't have to tiptoe.

That left the rest of the room.

Strange paintings on the walls, and a small stove kept the room warm in winter. She took down the paintings to see if anything was behind them. As she did, she took a closer look at each one. They were odd. One was a strange rendition of some kind of a beast, With strange runes which looked out of place, in some areas of the picture. Nothing hung behind it.

She wasn't sure if the other painting was really a painting, or what it was of. It had a frame around a perfectly black canvas, with faint round lines, resembling a hole or some kind of a black sphere. Maybe it wasn't finished? It seemed to eat up the light around it, making the whole room darker. When she pulled at it, it would not come of the wall.

She took a few steps back and looked at it. There was something off with it. A feeling of dread crept up her spine as she looked. She shook her gaze away and stepped back.

What had this Mr. Caldwell been collecting?

On the desk were stacks of papers. Clearly this room had been off limits to the rest of the sale.

The private sale was probably not on the books. She might not be going to jail for this.

It might be worse, depending on whose deal she was in the middle of.

She flipped through them. Strange symbols and calculations. Mathematical theory? Chemistry? As she collected the papers, she noticed a small metal plaque among them. It was composed of two interlocking brass discs with jumbled letters on them.

This wasn't going to get her out. She put it back.

She slumped into the chair by the desk, and craned her head back. There wasn't a easy solution here. She might have to run and leave the book, and hope she made it.

She glanced at the book.

Might as well see what I was sent to get.

She walked over and looked at the old tome. It was bound in leather, and old leather at that. The corners were reinforced with brass, and there were intricate carvings into the leather. Some of them reminded her of hieroglyphics. She'd gone to one of those Egyptian mummy shows when she was a girl, and became fascinated by the strange and exotic art.

These weren't the same, but they looked ancient.

She opened the book revealing... Nothing?

The pages were empty. In pristine condition, but empty. Was this a fake? Not with this cover. Why would someone make a copy of it, with nothing on the pages? It wouldn't stand up to any scrutiny at all. Maybe just as a museum piece?

She was about to close the book when she saw something written on one of the pages.

A-T

Her eyebrow crept up curiously.

There hadn't been anything on that page before. Invisible ink? She found a candle and matches in one of the drawers of the desk, and lit it. Trying to look for more invisible text within the book by holding it up to the fire.

When she came back to the book, it now read

A-T

B lxxd Mknma

She looked at the jumble of letters in a curious fashion, her current worries discarded for the puzzle in front of her. How had the letters formed? Did she just randomly stumble upon it? She flipped a few pages. Nothing there. And what were those letters? Some cypher? Invisible ink in an ancient tome written in cypher? Who's book was this? Some old alchemists puzzle?

Her furrowed face suddenly lit up. The small disc! She grabbed the brass disk, turning it round, until the A on the outer disk met T on the inner.

She grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote out the letters as shy deciphered the message.

"I seek Truth?" she muttered.

What on earth does that mean?

To her surprise, the letters on the page rearranged themselves, forming a word.

"Yes?"

Elizabeth froze.

She backed away from the book. What was happening? Is somebody manipulating the book somehow?

The words changed again, and she stepped closer again to read them.

"A new reader?"

Elizabeth crooked her head, looking at the book incredulously.

"What do you wish to learn?" The book wrote.

How was it doing that? Maybe this Caldwell fellow had been one of these stage illusionists, and this was one of his tricks. Maybe these clandestine buyers wanted the old magicians tricks.

Mr. Whitfield at least looked like one, she mused.

This would all have to wait however.

"I need to get out of here." She murmured to herself as she eyed the rest of the room for anything she'd overlooked as an exit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the text changing again.

"I know a way out." It said.

A chill ran up her spine. Is it listening to me? No, someone is listening through it. A microphone? Or someone in the next room? Someone knows I'm here. But why would someone be "operating" this little magic book right now?

Were they going to fool the client?

To show someone what it could do?

I'm not the buyer though. If they knew I was here, they would just have someone come in and throw me out.

Whoever is operating the book doesn't want me thrown out.

"Who are you, where are you hiding and why are you here?" She said in a sharp whispered tone.

"An inquisitive novice, but the questions miss their mark.

I'm here because I'm about to be sold. You're not my buyer. But you could become the new Reader." The book wrote.

"I don't have time for this nonsense, If you won't answer my questions, then tell me how to get out of here, please."

"There is a way. The previous reader was secretive, and hid both artifacts and passages in this house. One of those passages is in this very room.

On the wall to your left, there is a panel under a coat hanger. It is loose. Turn it sideways to reveal a tiny keyhole."

She did, and there it was. She got out her toolkit, and started working on it. Her tools wouldn't fit it however. When she backed off, she saw the text had changed again.

"It's a special little key I fear. I doubt your tools will be able to pick it in time."

"You can see me?" She looked around. How else would they know?

This trick was getting pretty fucking complex.

The book seemed to ignore the question and continued.

"Mr. Caldwell was a man of many eccentricities. One of them was rampant paranoia. Another was a penchant for puzzles. There are several in this room that together hide the key."

She looked around again. The strongboxes. They didn't need keys. They were combination locks. She hadn't seen this type of a combination lock before. It might take her time to figure them out. The numbers however might be hidden around.

Or she could just ask for them, she thought looking at the book.

"Do you know the combination to the boxes?"

"You'll have to figure it out on your own. The last reader was fond of his little games. They are in here, somewhere."

She looked at the strongboxes again. They were all of approximately the same size, differing slightly, but each of them had a different symbol painted on to them. A knight's helmet, a beast of some sort, a black circle, and a doorway of some sort. The one with the doorway was slightly more ornate than the others.

A beast? One of the paintings depicted some beast. She looked over to the far wall, and walked up to it. It certainly looked like something that was alive, but she couldn't place it. It had a giant snout, with tendrils snaking out of it's neck. It's body was bulbous, with large legs coming out of it akin to an elephant. It felt.... Naked.

She looked closer.

It wasn't a beast at all. It was a painting of an amalgam of people. They all looked "Clothed" But more black and oily than any clothes she'd see before. Every face she could see had an expression of ecstasy, writhing and wriggling together.

An orgy.

She backed off. Looking at the thing sent a shiver down her spine.

Spread through the painting, there were scrawlings, four of them. Maybe runes of some kind?

The book had said the answers could all be found in here. She walked back to the bookcase. Seeing the book she'd seen before. "Von Pinzler's Primer to Runes and Revelations" There was a bookmark in it, The book had a lot of text, but by the bookmark there was an Alphabetical key to what looked like the scrawlings on the painting.

Aha! She took the book, and compared it to the scribblings. They were numbers.

She transcribed them, coming out as 2126

She swiftly went to the box with the "Beast" on it, and put the numbers in.

She heard it unlock, and she opened it slowly.

She felt dizzy all of a sudden. She felt her hands move on their own, reaching into the box, and grabbing the pair of leather cuffs that resided in it. As she placed each one on her,. A tingle went down her spine, and not an unpleasant one. With the cuffs lay two tiny locks, each one with a tiny crank on their side. She locked each one, and cranked them several times. Somewhere at the back of her mind, a tiny voice said that this wasn't a good idea.

As she finished winding up the second lock, she snapped out of it.

Her face felt flushed after the strange event.

"What just happened?" She looked at her wrists, and pulled at them. They fit snugly, and would not give.

She saw the text in the book change.

"One of the last readers eccentricities was erotic discipline. You have just walked into one of his traps." It wrote.

"Erotic discipline" She remembered the collection of lurid artifacts downstairs. "Figures".

"How did it do that though? What happened to me? It felt strange."

The book remained as it was.

She examined the locks. No keyhole. But they ticked. Tiny timed locks. Immaculate craftsmanship. If they weren't locked on her right now, she'd be interested in how they worked.

"Are all of these boxes like that?"

There was no change in the book.

There was nothing to it. She'd need to continue anyway. Time was running out.

At the bottom of the box was a small polished brass plate, with a partial image of some outdoor scene on one side, and what looked like the symbol of the "beast" in the painting on it, along with a hyphen next to it. A puzzle piece, probably with only 3 pieces.

She looked at the whole room again. There had to be clues for the other boxes.

She looked at the two boxes again. A black circle and a knight. She looked at the black painting again. The bad feeling from before welled up. She'd leave it for last.

Looking around for the knight, her eyes landed on a plaque on the wall, formed like a shield, with a small knight's helmet at the top. She read the text under it, finding out it was an honorary knighthood, given to him by "The New England Guild of Propriety". It didn't sound like the kind of institution that gave out knighthoods. She checked behind it, and a small note was attached to the back of it.

She opened it revealing a poem:

A call to arms, a crusade is formed

The King his army produces.

A thousand men, a thousand swords

His son to lead he chooses.

A friendly retinue of faces

fourteen to shield the aspirant

Five hundred coins he places

In hands of thugs, less elegant.

Of the friends, one with drink was doomed

Another was with daggers groomed

And half of the rest, together entombed

The kings men, cold they lie

Quarter of them look to the sky.

The thugs ran, their fate to die

Forty escaped, terrified

At last the prince, his shield upon

The king fell ill, he mourned his son

He would not eat, he would not sleep

And now in death, for him still weeps

She'd never been good at poetry. Her father had never considered it a priority. It had made way for various business journals and a smattering of mathematics. At least that had been the hope. Elizabeth had not been the easiest of students.

The numbers made sense though. And there were a lot of them in this case. The king was gathering an army, and sending it off... Who comes back? She counted the living against the dead, eventually coming up with a number.

0796

She went to the Knight box again, and tried the number, pausing in anticipation. Were there more bindings in this one? And how was it happening? Was it hypnosis? Or was she being drugged somehow?

She steeled herself this time before opening the box, only for it to melt away instantly as she saw the items within. Her demeanor changed, and her movements became softer, as she picked up the items. A pair of larger cuffs, that she instinctively placed on her ankles, and locked with the same kind of locks as before.

As she did, she snapped out of her trance, this time with a definite feeling of arousal. She half wished there were more things in the box to lock on to herself. She could feel her nipples grow stiff against the soft fabric of her dress, and she felt her clit start to crave attention.

She shook her head, barely suppressing the longing to slide her hand down between her thighs.

No time, remember. She muttered to herself several times, until she regained full control.

She picked up another piece of the same plaque out of the box. It continued forming a picture. It now showed a garden, and the back of it showed the black circle symbol and a plus sign. It was some kind of sum. She'd need the third one to get it right.

Only two boxes left, she thought. She still had nothing on the grander box. Maybe that was meant as the last one.

She knew what was next. She stepped towards the black painting. It looked as ominous as before. Like it was somehow deeper than the canvas. It reflected little or no light, and seemed to go on forever. Maybe the code was hidden in the painting like the other one, she thought, as she touched the painting. Or at least she meant to touch it.

Her hand slipped through, like the surface of a liquid. It felt warm as it slid into the dark. She pulled it out, surprised to find nothing on her hand.

If it was liquid, none of it had remained.

How deep was it?

She steeled herself for another attempt, and put her hand in there. Then her arm.

It felt endless, like a void.

She noticed a plaque on the painting, now that she was closer to it.

A picture dark, so pale a light

Brushes away the black of night.

Exploration has a price

Progress demands sacrifice

That didn't sound good.

A pale light though. The room was lit by electric lights. There had been blue candle on the table. Maybe that? She went into her purse, and found a match, and lit the candle. The flame looked funny. It was blue... or blueish. She knew a little chemistry. Generally a color change on a flame wasn't a good sign. Maybe there was some kind of a gas in here. She moved to the window to open it slightly, but the color of the flame remained unchanged.

A pale light... it at least fits.

She took the candle and held it up to the painting. Before her eyes, it transformed. Instead of a black canvas, there was a black colored alcove in there, but this time, it was strewn with stars, like a thick blanket of them. In the middle of the alcove there was an item. A large black ball, with several straps around it.

She picked it up, expecting the same feeling as before to take over, but she remained in control. The bundle of straps looked similar to one of the things the girls had stolen earlier, the gag. It had a similar, but bigger lock on it.

Maybe she could get around this one. She found the lock and closed it, winding up only a tiny bit.

Nothing happened. After a minute or two, she heard a click, and the lock opened.

Ok, at least they open, good to know.

Maybe it's enough if I just put it on, she thought as she untangled the straps, and fit the black ball in her mouth. It was hard and smooth, but tasted of rubber.

Still nothing happened. Shit. Maybe I really have to lock it?

She spent a few moments debating this, as a gag would limit any lie she could say to anyone that would find her, along with raising more questions about what she was doing.

She just needed to get out of this room, and then hide until the locks timed out, the auction would should still be going on at that point. Right, that was a plan. Besides, It was an interesting feeling, even while just alone to trap her voice like this. She put the lock into the locking buckle, closed it, and wound it up like the others. Trapping her mouth behind the sizable rubber ball for what she hoped wasn't more than an hour.

As she cranked it up and it dangled below her right ear, to her surprise, she heard a male voice coming from the lock.

It said clearly:

"2-9-1-1, 2-9-1-1, 2-9-1-1"

Then it was silent.

Had Caldwell put a tiny phonograph in there with the mechanism? How? She was almost too amazed at the feat, that she almost forgot the number it spoke. She quickly got to the chest with the black circle, and put in the number.

Yet again, the box opened, revealing more of the green restraints. The same kind of daze poured over her, although at this point she felt more a part of the process. She eagerly took the smaller pair, and fastened them to her elbows, and then the larger pair she put on her thighs, pulling them taught, and locking them all in place.

It all felt right, she thought. This time the haze lingered, diminishing only slightly. Visions of her kneeling before some phantom figure raced through her head. The figure held a leash of some kind, and it was attached to something.

A collar. She had to have that collar. To feel it's presence on her neck. She craved it.

Another piece of the three piece puzzle lay on the bottom of the box. She picked it up, and placed them together. The picture was fully formed at this point.

It was a serene picture of a man and a woman in a garden, facing each other, holding hands, leaning against each other in a intimate, caring manner. Elizabeth was somewhat shook out of her haze.

This game had been made for someone specific, and she was intruding. She wondered if they'd played this game before, each time adding a bit to it.

But whatever the couples fate, she felt the need to get out of here by now, and little precious time remained until they'd come for the book.

She turned the puzzle around, and found the pieces ended up in a simple math equation.

The Beast - The Knight + The Black circle

She found the numbers, found a piece of paper, and did the simple arithmetic, and ended up with the last number.

She went over to the last box, put the code in, and the last lock opened. She opened it in knowing trepidation of what lay in there. There would be something in there, and as soon as she opened it, she would want it on. Although only the gag she wore restrained her yet, this game was only escalating, and eventually she knew there would be larger consequences. She just hoped she could hide for long enough that the locks would time out.

As the box opened and she looked inside it, the familiar hypnotic effect asserted itself again, reaching a crescendo as she reached down to pick up the last item, the collar.

It was similar to the rest of the bindings, but in a different style. It was made of leather, reinforced with a somewhat flexible steel band. There were inscriptions on it, pressed into the leather, but none she could understand.

She slipped it around her neck, and clicked yet another clocklock on it, pushing it down and winding it up.

As she let go of the winch, she felt a change. The haze faded completely. Gone in an instant. Something had changed though. There was a different feeling in the air now, and the image of her kneeling before an unknown figure appeared again in her mind, and lingered for a moment or two.

Now again in control of her senses, she searched the rest of the box, finding an odd looking key, long and thin.

This must be it!

She grabbed it, and pushed it into the narrow lock on the wall, turning it.

She heard a loud click, and she saw that a segment of the wall was jutting out. A door. She looked in, seeing a dark stone staircase leading down.

She looked the room over, hiding the lock to the secret passage and closed all of the strongboxes again, trying to remove some of the evidence that she'd been here. She'd only managed to fix the first two boxes when she heard muffled sounds of voices outside the door. Quickly grabbing the book, she made it into the stairway, and closed it behind her. In the darkness, she could hear sounds of the study door opening, and a group of men coming into the room. Soon their voices turned to confusion, and then anger. "Find it!"

She snuck down the stairs while they yelled, their voices going more distant. It took her a while to make it down. She felt her way as she did, hoping to find an exit somewhere.

Eventually the stairs ended, and she felt a wooden wall in front of her. Her hands came across a latch, which she opened.

It opened into a large bedroom, sparsely furnished. There was a bed in it, along with a large traveling trunk, that didn't seem to belong there. A small fire crackled in a cozy looking fireplace to the right of her.

She closed the door behind her.

Ok, safe for now. Now I just need to wait for them to give up the search, or find a way to sneak out of here, she thought to herself, right before a surge of panic went down her spine, as the door of the room opened.

She scrambled for the hidden door.

"Ah, Ms. Morcef? You astound me. No need to run." came the calm voice of Whitfield, as he entered and discreetly closed the door behind him.

"I see you've been upstairs" he said, gesturing at the book, but looking at her ensemble.

"And you've managed to pick up a few other items as well."

Elizabeth managed to stifle the impulse to cover her gagged mouth. This is not how these jobs usually fared.

She touched her cuffs subconsciously, and backed away a step or two.

"I hadn't really expected you to succeed. I had reserved this room to store items from the auction, to transport later. I just planned on you providing a distraction while I'd sneak into the room." He followed her as she backed, slowly, his face sporting an arrogant grin.

Elizabeth glanced around her, looking for an avenue of escape. This wasn't going like she wanted it to. She needed leverage, and with the gag, talking her way was not an option.

"But no! To my surprise, you didn't get caught! But I knew the only way out that room was into this one, and so here I am."

"I would be obliged if you would hand me the book"

She gripped the book tighter. Fine. If he's going to leave me hanging, trussed up like this while he makes his escape, screw him.

She backed towards the fire, and held the book almost over the fire.

"STOP" Whitfield shouted.

She did.

She froze in place. She willed herself to continue, to move, to throw the damn thing on the fire. But nothing happened.

Whitfield's facial expression was one of utter surprise, which then morphed into a wild grin.

"Interesting, to say the least. Ms. Morcef. Put the book on the bed."

Elizabeth unfroze, and she felt herself walk toward the bed, depositing the book on it.

Her mind struggled against the order, shouting at herself to not do as she had been commanded.

"What kind of items did you pick up there, little thief? Stay still."

He walked to her, examining the items she bore, with interest akin to that of a young boy opening a present.

"Stay still" he had said. She'd felt the order twirl around her spine, curbing any attempt at moving.

She tried her best to struggle against the order placed on her, but it would not budge.

His breath was on her, his closeness, as he examined her. She could still move her eyes, that darted around in a silent panic.

What was happening? Was it the collar? The image of herself kneeling before an unknown figure came back to her mind.

A wave of panic welled up in her. How thorough was this? Would she obay any order, no matter how suicidal or depraved? He could have her walk home and then kill herself. Or make her kill others. No! She would resist, she would...

"Interesting as this is, I'll have to examine it better later. I'll have to get you out of here somehow. Good thing improvisation is my forte.

Miss, open that trunk"

The thoughts of panic were pushed away, suppressed by the higher authority.

She stepped over and opened Whitfield's trunk.

It was about half-full, with articles of clothing and a strange tapestry that had been on the auction earlier, along with an item she recognized at the top. It was that strange belt. The one built for a strange definition of chastity.

"Now, I don't think you'll appreciate this method of transport, but in this unique circumstance, I don't think you get a vote. I think we can fit you in there, but the belt is kind of in the way, and we can't leave anything behind. If you would be so kind, miss, put on the belt." He spoke, his mouth curling in a grin as he spoke.

A different scenario began building in her head as she felt herself take it up, examine it, and slide her underwear off. Maybe he wouldn't make her murder herself or others. Maybe this was what he meant for her. He would make her his servant. His slave.

She felt herself get warmer as she thought about it. Not the reaction she had anticipated. The belt slid up her legs,and she eased the two phalluses into herself, with more ease than she thought possible. As they glided in, she gasped as they both hit home.

A moment after they entered her, they started moving slowly, rotating around and around. No toy she knew of could do anything of the like. She gasped, and continued with her command.

She buckled the belt in place, turning the clasp in front, which made a clear locking sound. As it locked, the rods stopped moving.

"Ah, very good, now, get in the trunk, and lie very still on your side." She did, and rods started up again.

Whitfield took out several small padlocks, and locked her elbows together, along with her wrists, thighs and ankles.

"Now, I'm going to leave you in here for a while. Don't make a sound, and don't move until I say so." Whitfield whispered into her ear. "Don't try to escape, and enjoy your stay". He added.

She could practically hear his grin, as he closed the lid on the trunk. As he spoke, the rods within moved with more vigor, now rotating in slow circles, and thrusting their full length into her again and again. She barely fit in there, and concerns about air started to bubble up in her brain, but thankfully she could feel a little bit of air coming through the rim of the trunk lid.

The rods were now in full swing, and she was rapidly approaching her first climax as she felt the trunk being lifted. She struggled against moaning, like she'd been commanded, and after a minute or two, she could feel the colder night air begin to draft through the narrow gap of the trunk lid. She could do nothing but silently endure the assault of the belt, as it pushed her over the edge, and she writhed in silence as her first orgasm of the night wracked through her.

Another successful job, she thought to herself in the few lucid moments she had between the unrelenting attention of the rods.