The ropes bit into her wrists first. Then her ankles. Then the soft flesh beneath her breasts where Victor threaded the final harness strap with a clinical tug that lifted her a half-inch off the mat.

Leena hung in the center of the gym, suspended from the steel frame of the squat rack by four points of contact and nothing else. The rope was hemp, rough and new, and every subtle sway of her body made the fibers rasp against her skin. Her arms were spread wide, elbows slightly bent, palms facing forward. Her legs were drawn up and open, knees bent, ankles tied to a spreader bar that Victor had clipped to the chain above her. The position left her cunt fully exposed, her ass angled toward the mirror wall, and her shoulders already burning from the weight of her own suspended body.