A change of outfit and scenery

Maisie had no idea how long she’d been lying there, chained to the table. While it felt like hours, or possibly even days, the reality was almost definitely shorter than that. It could even have been only minutes since that man left the room. Her own sense of time couldn’t be trusted, and she reckoned that was probably the point.

The light above her clicked on suddenly, and she turned her head away, wincing at the pain. She could hear heels clicking against the floor, drawing closer and closer. Her arms were pulled around, and she could hear the padlock clicking. As she felt the weight of the chains leave her wrists, she drew her arms in closer, relishing the freedom after so long stretched out.

The process repeated itself at her ankles, and Maisie drew herself into a ball, savoring the freedom of movement that would no doubt soon be stripped away again. Something hit the floor next to the table, and her liberator spoke.

"Put these on and follow me."

Maisie blinked as her eyes adjusted to the harsh white light. Looking down at the floor, she saw what she'd been left. A pair of heels, easily a good five and a half inches tall, and a spiked collar. Surely that couldn't be it?

"Is there um... is there anything else?" Her voice was small and hoarse. She wondered briefly if she could even be heard, but then...

"Put on what you've been given, or we can strap you to the table again. It's your choice."

Maisie didn't fancy strolling around fully nude, but she fancied being back on that table even less. She leaned down and grabbed the collar, placing it around her neck and buckling it shut.

"Tighter. There's too much slack in it."

She undid and refastened the collar, tighter this time, before reaching down for the shoes. They weren't exactly her style, but they were cute at least. Glittery and silver, with a hefty platform. Definitely closer to six inches. She slipped them on and was surprised to find they fit perfectly. Whoever her captor was, they'd obviously done their research.

Or someone had sold her out.

She rose to her feet slowly, tottering slightly in the unfamiliar shoes. She looked at the woman who had freed her, but didn't recognize her. A tall blonde, almost amazonian. Legs for weeks, starting from a pair of shoes like her own, but in black, and rising to a gorgeous pencil skirt and white blouse combo. If Maisie had to name the aesthetic, it would be firmly in the "slutty secretary" category.

"Good. Follow me then."

They walked slowly, a fact Maisie was grateful for, as it let her focus on not falling and breaking an ankle. "What do I call you?" Her voice was still hoarse, but coming back.

"You don't call me anything. 'Miss' will suffice."

"Miss" led her through the house for what felt like miles, up several flights of stairs, and back down several more, no doubt designed to disorient her and keep her from running very far. If this had been London, she felt like she'd have gone from Heathrow to the Thames barrier and back again. Finally, they came to a heavy-looking wooden door. If it weren't for the windows along the hallway, Maisie couldn't have said if they were above or below ground anymore. As it was, it was definitely night, which means she'd been here for at least a day.

She was startled from her thoughts by "Miss" knocking smartly on the door, and she turned and walked away.

"Wait, what do I do!?" Maisie called after her. "Miss" stopped with a heavy sigh.

"I had my hopes that you were more than a pretty face. So far, I'm not impressed. When the door opens, you walk through it. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

With that, "Miss" turned again and left, her heels clicking smartly on the smooth wooden floor.

Behind Maisie, she heard the door unlock, and the handle begin to turn.