By POW
He awakens in darkness. He is lying on his stomach, his head cradled on one of his arms, which has gone tingly and numb. He tries to move it and quickly bumps into walls in every direction: up, down, left, right. He panics for a moment, wondering if he somehow has forgotten the beginning of whatever bondage scene he is currently in, because the last thing he remembers is not a bondage scene at all but an ordinary night at home.
He would have no way of knowing that he was locked into a solid-walled cage that, at its greatest extent, would encompass less than two cubic meters of space. And that the cage was currently configured to allow him only half that much room. All he knows is that he can’t move, can’t see, can’t budge the walls that enclose him from head to toe, and the panic begins to blossom inside his chest, making his heart race and the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up in alarm …
Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself …
