Protest

{if Gagged = true} Nope, No way. You cross your arms and firmly shake your head. {endif}

{if Gagged = false} "What? No! I just moved them all the way over -- " {endif}

Krik backhands you, knocking you to the floor. "Did I ask for your fucking opinion, Dreg?" they snarl. {if Gagged = false} "Let's shut that smart mouth up, shall we?"

Krik storms off to rummage around in a crate. They withdraw a thick rubber ring, shaped like a very fat donut, and some kind of cord. "Let's see if this fits." They tie both ends of the cord through the donut, producing a primitive ball gag with a hole in the middle.

It takes some effort to shove the gag into your mouth, since it's a little too large, but Krik manages. Your jaws are **** painfully wide. Krik viciously yanks on the cord to tighten it, drawing your lips back and stretching them. "This mouth was a bit too small for my liking last night. Maybe this will help with that, too." {endif}

They pick you up by your forearms and lift you to eye level, pushing you against a crate. "You were told to move the crates," they growl. "And now your job is to move. The. Fucking. Crates." They grin mischeiviously. "So how should I punish you for your disobedience, hmm? You know what, that can wait. First, let's get these crates moved."

Krik drops you again and pulls a roll of cord from the crate. They use it to tightly bind your arms together behind your back, wrist to elbow. They then wind the cord around your body, around your breasts, around your hips and thighs and between your legs. The ends of the cord are tied to little hooks on the bottom of the crate.

"I'm going to breakfast. When I get back, I expect this crate over there, and I'll tie you to the next one. If this crate isn't over there, there will be consequences."

Krik leaves the room.