The camera stares down into the room, a single, unblinking, unwavering eye. The room is not big, five, six feet square and ten feet high. The walls are smooth, grey concrete, as are the floor and ceiling. The otherwise continuous surface is broken by only three things. One is the camera, tucked into one corner of the rectangular prism, another is a light, hanging from the ceiling, a naked bulb harsh in its glare. Finally, one wall has a door in the center, taking up most of the wall. It is metal, painted a dull grey-green. From this side, the door’s surface is broken only by a small flap, close to the bottom, currently closed.

Under the eyes continued surveillance, the room’s occupant begins to stir. She’s a young woman, Alice Hughes, 29, a receptionist for a local hotel. She’s still dressed as she was the night before: a slinky red dress that plays off her shoulder length dark hair and dark blue eyes, black hose and matching red heels. A cry of fright echoes in the enclosed space, not picked up by the camera as it’s not wired for sound, as she awakens to realize she did not make it home from the club last night after all. Her eyes go wide with fright as she struggles to remember events involving some good looking guys, a drink in her hand, tasting funny and being helped outside, to a waiting car…

As the realization of her kidnapping takes hold, Alice becomes aware of the one addition to her outfit from the night before. It is a collar, a thick piece of hard, grey colored plastic, padded on the inside, with one exception. At the side, a box bulges from the outside of the otherwise round, segmented band. Matching it on the inside, a pair of metal nubs press, uncomfortably, against Alice’s neck.

“Subject will stand now.” A voice, unidentifiable electronic, barks from a microphone attached to the camera. Startled, Alice jumps. She rises to her feet, looking up at the camera. Her mouth moves, asking questions, which again are not picked up, not recorded. What she has to say doesn’t really matter.

“Subject will now undress.” The voice says. Alice only stares, in shocked disbelief. The voice repeats itself, adding, “Comply within thirty seconds or punishment will be applies.” Silently, the time counts down, Alice standing still. The young woman has adopted a pose of stubborn resistance, arms crossed, glaring sullenly up at the camera, defying it to force her to obey.

When zero hits, the young woman jerks back, her mouth opening in a silent scream that must echoe in the enclosed space. Her hands go to the shock collar around her throat, tugging at it, but she can’t budge it, can’t find where the ends join, or any way to take it off.

“Subject will now undress. Punishment will be repeated if subject is not complaint.” The voice repeats in the same, emotionless monotone. Alice glares, angrily for a second, before she comes to the conclusion that she has no choice here. The shocks would just keep coming until she did as they told her. Better to get it over with and save herself the pain. Glumly, she slipped the straps of her dress down off her shoulders, letting it fall down, forming a blue ring of cloth around her feet. Underneath, she has on a matching pair of black lingerie, in the hopes of a much different surprise on waking up the next morning. These quickly join the dress on the floor of the cell, followed by her heels a second later. Her arms go across her chest, trying to preserve some shred of modesty under the inescapable glare of the camera above her, while she waits for the next instruction.

It doesn’t take long. From somewhere outside the door, there is a click, following by a faint rattling. A second later, the flap at the bottom lifts up and something falls out, as if it had rolled down a ramp outside the door. Without waiting for the voice, Alice bends over and picks it up, keeping her other hand still folded across her naked chest. It’s a rubber ball, maybe an inch, two inces in diameter. Coming off opposite sides of it are two metal prongs, ending in nubs. The nubs are pieced with shiny metal rings, to which are attached two long black leather straps, ending in a buckle and matching tongue.

Alice isn’t sheltered enough not to recognize the ballgag at once and her face blushes red, guessing a second before the voice orders her to put it on. With a faint whimper, she takes the straps in either hand and opens it up, raising the ball to her lips. She opens her mouth, struggling for a moment to get the plug between her teeth. It finally pops through and she gives another, muffled groan of discomfort, the gag wedging her jaws apart. She pulls the straps around behind her head and, awkwardly buckles it on.

There’s another click and two more objects fall through the slot. They appear to be metal rings, each half an inch thick, padded on the inside, plain metal on the outside. They’re hinged, open at the moment. The voice orders her to put them onto her wrists. Reluctant, but still afraid of the shock collar’s punishment, Alice obeys. The rings close with a loud click and she finds there doesn’t seem to be any way to open them once closed.

“Put your hands behind your back, wrists together.” Alice follows the instructions, then gives a startled, muffled cry. As soon as she had put them together, the rings stuck fast to each other. Though they hadn’t before, as soon as they’d touched, powerful electromagnets in both cuffs activated, too strong for the helpless captive to overcome in her awkward position.

Just as she was coming to terms with this, there was another click. This time, the door itself began to move, slowly swinging back, to reveal a hallway beyond, made of the same blank concrete, bare save more lights hanging overhead. The hallway ran fifteen feet onward before coming to a t-section, extending past what Alice could see from her position. But she could make out, at the top of the “T” another camera, looking towards her.

“Step out of the cell.” The voice ordered. As soon as she did, the door closed behind her. Alice waited a second, for another order, but none came. Hesitantly, she started forward, wanting to see what lay around the intersection ahead of her.

 Far away in another room, an individual watched Alice on the screen in front of them. When the door had closed, the feed had automatically switched to the camera ahead of her, showing her awkward, fearful progress up the short corridor.

On either side of it, several more screens glowed in the dark room. In each, another girl, naked but for the gag, electric shock collar and electromagnet cuffs, made their first, hesitant steps out of their cells and into the maze. The figure grinned.

“Let the games begin…”