All the eyes focused on the hanging girl, whose body could hardy be seen under all the layers of bondage that were packed around her contorted form. Her arms were secured by a tight rope cinching her elbows together, padlocked mittens whose padlock was in her mouth, a tight arm-binder that is secured to her corseted body by a rope, by several coils of a chain that is padlocked over her belly, whose key is tied against the back of her neck, by a second set or chain coils are tightened around her legs, torso and arms and whose opening key is dangling from her nose, and finally by a rope connecting her breasts, head, feet, hands and crotch in succession. She is hanging by her ankles, which are connected to a crotch rope, as well as to her braided hair, fixing her body in cruel circle with her feet almost touching her hooded head. Her feet are wrapped in a bag of leather. Her hood is locked by a padlock whose key is trapped between her tightly bound breasts. She is wearing a tight corset. Her breasts are pierced just behind their nipples and anchored to a heavy anchor chain laying on the floor. Finally, wax has been poured over her gagged mouth, over her breast and crotch restraints, and into her mittens, and is slowly cooling and solidifying.

As the timer begins to start counting down the first seconds of its six hours, nothing can be seen happening. Felina is hanging immobile from the ceiling. This is hardly surprising, given the number of restraints she is secured with, but most peoples in the audience are regular fan of Felina Pan Teer and were half-expecting to see all here bonds collapse in a matter of seconds. The best observers notice some of her muscles bulging or twitching, beads of sweat rolling down her breasts and dripping from their nipples, but that's all.

Five minutes pass without anything noticeable happens. Felina's fans begin to feel worried, while most other are beginning to feel bored. The hostess too is worried. Not because of Felina's lack of success so far, but because of the lack of action. She knows that a show without action becomes soon a show without audience. Smiling to the public and blinking at them, she comes to Felina.

"Any problem, Miss Pan Teer? Are you stuck? Do you want to call it a failure and stop here? Grunt once if you want to bail out, twice if you want to continue." She holds her microphone in front of the black hood covering Felina's head. Two grunts in quick succession echo through the room, transmitted by the loud-speaker.

The hostess cannot hide her discontent. What is this bitch believing? Can she really hope to break out of such a heap of knots and chains? Is she just trying to win time, to wait until every spectator has left the room and zapped to another channel, and concede her defeat only once she know it will go unnoticed? I can't let her ruin the show! I have to find something! the hostess thought. And then an idea rose to her mind.

"Hey folk! Don't you think we deserve a better show than that? Don't you think we should find a way to motivate Miss Pan Teer to work faster on her escape?" she asked the bored audience.

Her question woke up many of the spectators and they all cheered their approval. Comforted by their reaction, the hostess continued.

"I knew you would be with me. Listen to what I propose. Every 30 minutes, one of you will come on stage and will add a painful device to our escape artist. Notice that this cannot be a restraint. It cannot prevent her from doing her escape, except from the pain it causes. I'm sure this will motivate her to finish her escape in as few 30-minute periods she can!"

Her proposal was welcomed with cheers and whistles, and a twitch from Felina.

"The first period is beginning RIGHT NOW! Who is going to be our first pain-giver? Don't be afraid. We have a very large collection of torture implements back stage. Come with your ideas and will provide you with the right tools."