“What is your pleasure, lass?” he asked the bowed woman.
“To serve you, sir,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear.
“Good. You know your place. Take to the rack, belly up with your legs spread.”
Mariel had hardly noticed the device behind the master and slave, the apparatus of wood and bolts tucked into a corner, half-covered in a velvet drape. On Ladner’s orders, the girl rose, stripped the rack of its cover and tugged the heavy thing a few more inches into the room. As though she’d been through this ritual before, she mounted the device, laid down as ordered and waited for the master to continue.
There were straps to anchor her wrists and ankles to wooden struts beneath her, a strap that buckled around her waist, and thin ropes dangling from a frame above that Ladner tied to
