CHAPTER 1 - THE DARE
MOORE

Moore flattened herself to the wall, heart pounding. She should never have taken this dare, she told herself. And she should have just climbed over the gate and then climbed straight back over, she should not have let herself then wander close to the house. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and if she was going to trespass in an embassy's grounds she might as well go the whole hog... but she regretted it now as she shrank against the wall, her heart pounding in her ears, cries ringing in her ears.

The last trespasser? She wondered grimly, then flattened herself to the ground as she heard the sound of boots crunching closer over the gravel path, praying that the large bush in front of her was large enough to conceal her. Not being interested in gardening in the slightest, Moore didn't have a clue what the bush actually was, but she promised herself that if whoever it was didn't spot her, she'd look it up and plant a really fecking big one somewhere.

She blew out a long breath as the footsteps kept going straight past her, crunching quieter and quieter until they faded right from her hearing. She sat up and yanked a leaf off the bush, shoving it in her pocket and zipping it up tightly. She slowly got to her feet and peered around the corner of the house, whipping her head back as a camera turned in her direction. Her heart thrumming like a guitar string, she sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself, think clearly.

Another cry cut through the air and her curiosity overrode her fear. She slid along the wall a good distance, until she was under the window and peered cautiously over the sill. Nope, this room was done up like a library, wall to ceiling bookcases, crammed with books, high backed leather chairs scattered around with round wooden tables. She slid along further, her black hoodie catching on the rough brickwork, then peeked over the next windowsill.

And felt her heart stop. The room was set up as almost a living room style, a set of stairs against the back wall, and in the centre, splayed across the coffee table was a man... at least, she guessed it was a man. He was kneeling awkwardly at one side of the table, legs tied together at the knee and at the ankle, a rope running from one leg of the coffee table to the other around the back of his bound knees, forcing him to stay locked in place as he was bent over it awkwardly, his torso flat against the glass top surface, his arms yanked forwards and tied to the metal legs on the other side.

That would have been more than enough to freak her out, but he was dressed... or rather bound up, in the strangest body suit. Black with a shimmer of purple, it encased him almost entirely. His arms were covered in what she would have called gloves, but they had no fingers, just flush to the skin, keeping his hands locked out into helpless flat dishes, extending right up, over his shoulders and back as they merged seamlessly into the chest section, which had the air of a straight jacket, it had a thick neck section, and the way the light played over it, it looked like it was boned, hard pieces of plastic under the latex to add rigidity and to quash virtually every movement, the man wouldn't be able to look up, she was certain. The torso spread down, leaving his buttocks bare, but sections spreading down over his hips to attach to a pair of leggings, as taut to his skin as the rest of it. They covered him right down to his feet, but there were strange padded sections to them, a large amount under the knee, but an even larger amount above it. It was strange, almost rigid, like it prevented him from straightening his legs...

There were straps all over the bodysuit with gleaming buckles and silver rings at intervals... but the thing that creeped her out was that his head was as encased. A mask spread from the back of his neck, over half of his face, over eyes and nose with 2 little nostril slits in the latex over his nose, leaving only the lower half of his face revealed, the face that was turned towards her, had a device, intimately familiar from the doctor's surgery, a mouth spreader. And that was where his muffled cries were coming from. It didn't deaden the noise, just made the words incomprehensible.

She sagged back to the flowerbed, stunned, blinking fast.

"What the fuck?" She demanded quietly.