Infernal Restraints

Shot just before Insex was forced to shut down, Tuition is so fucked up and hot, it’s clear why Insex had to go. Psycho-fuck bondage , cock-sucking and fucking, and jizz.

The hood on her head is skintight. He canes her wicked hard while he smothers her. She lies on her stomach with wrists bound toward her ankles. You can’t help but stare at her ass, streaked red with welts. She’s hoisted into the air. The bend in her back is impossible. PD’s cock pushes into her cunt, banging the bones of her back. And later, she sucks his huge cock, gagging as he thrusts deep into her throat. Drool spills out her mouth. She takes his money shot in the face, and he leaves her like that, slowly swinging.

Psycho PD tortures her with a cigarette and a cattle prod, then fucks each of her holes with plastic cock. He strangles her until she chokes, her face bright red. A vibrator on her clit makes her come. And afterward, she sits very quiet. Empty.

He kicks her awake. She’s in bilbos and a hood and plugged in the cunt and ass. After locking her ankles over her head, he jams a funnel in her ass and pours in water. Her ass takes it a gulp at a time. When she’s topped off, she’s plugged and put on her feet. He leads her outside for the big gush.

It’s the end of the second night...

Something about bronte seems guileless. And with PD, she allows everything.

With her ankles shackled to either side of a post, bronte struggles with the Fiddle. PD locks the end of it to the post in front of her so that she’s sitting. Then he stuffs her dirty sock in her mouth and tapes it in because, he says, she’s going to be screaming. He adds a leather muzzle just in case. She’s penetrated and alternately caned and buzzed with a vibrator. She squirts repeatedly, soaking the floor around her ass.

She lies on her back, her body arched beautifully, her thighs spread. Mr. Pogo bangs her, pounding her G-spot. Juice squirts out of her with force, shooting at PD. She’s fucked and pussy-whipped and then the taser snaps and sparks all around her pussy. PD mindfucks her, daring her to stick out her tongue for the zap of the taser. bronte’s a brave one.

She blows out soon after, so PD straps her into the straitjacket and vibrates her into a mess one more time.

kali's shoots at IR have always been rough, but this one raises the bar as PD gives kali exactly what she asked for - push the limits.

She's bent over with her head, wrists, and ankles locked in stocks. A wooden dildo/metal pipe penetrates her cunt. After some face flogging, a cuff tightens around the base of each of her breasts. They're weighed down with a heavy steel ball. Her breasts are caned. Strings of drool drip to the floor as she screams and struggles. When she's vibrated to orgasm, her eyes are completely zoned. PD offers her a bed. Is it comfortable? she says...

A metal band around her waist forces her stomach flat to the uncomfortable metal bed. He beats her with a paddle and a cane until she's sobbing. Now his big hand slips into her cunt up to the knuckles as he continues to cane her.

A wooden press squashes her tits. kali's shackled into a sitting position with the garrote at her throat. As a cane whips away at her, she screams and cries, overwrought. A slim Mr. Pogo slides deeply into her ass.

She's vibrated, choked, and caned simultaneously - until she comes, shuddering.

She’s locked to the floor doggie-stye. Bilboes hold her wrists, ankles, and neck as PD goes for her holes. Her short dress loosely drapes her ass, thrust up by the angle of her neck. Her sheer black panties show shadowy labia and holes. PD pokes Mr. Pogo inside her, using the cane to make her fuck herself. A hook in her ass is clearly painful. He ties it to her hair, displaying her rump like a baboon, red with heat. When she sucks Mr. Pogo, he makes her reach for it. And through it all, a continual sound of moans and cries.

She stands in a somewhat triangular device. Her head is held at the top by stocks so that, looking up from below, all that can be seen is a lovely female body, headless. Strapping her thighs to the sidebars, it bunches her ass cheeks, pushing them out for the whip. Wires stretch her mouth, and a nose hook fills more holes. A fucking machine revs, banging her cunt at full throttle. She comes. He stops the machine to give her a little rest. The machine doesn’t need rest.

It can just keep fucking and fucking and fucking....

Sybil endures the ultimate in objectification as her body’s vanquished by the devices in which she’s embedded. Sybil disappears. A new creature emerges.

She’s strapped to a chair, her breasts ballooned. She can make small movements. Nothing useful. A cattle prod shocks her awake. Then he buzzes her clit with a vibrator. But she squirms away – her pussy hurts. A latex hood forms to her face and neck. Now she could be anyone. Or no one. A gag goes in her mouth. We see only her eyes, so lush now, so alive, and surrounded by rubber. He tortures her, brutal with the cattle prod. She goes berserk with her terror of it. He zips another layer of latex over her face, restricting her breath. Now he has everything. All of her. Inside the layers of latex and the straps, we see a body that looks reminiscent of a girl. But that’s all. For herself, nothing remains.

As the shoot proceeds, he forces her body to conform more and more to the structures he imposes upon her – rigid frames that trap the body. Horrid sounds of terror come out of her mouth as he shocks her. Then he forces yet another orgasm out of her, and another. It’s not her body anymore. It belongs to him. Even her orgasms come with pain.

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To control the breath is to control the entire person. Every thought, movement, and emotion – everything – becomes focused on one thing only. Air.

In his mind, she’s really not even a she. It’s an object, black, zipped into latex with a bubblehead. Only her lips can be seen. This is how you know it’s human. By the lips. He hoists up this black body-like object by the ankles. An inflatable gag plugs that single opening, the one through which we see her lips. Her breath wheezes in and out through a small tube. Moisture condenses. Drool slowly obstructs her one link with the outer world. A vibrator’s zipped into the latex bag, humming against her pussy. She comes. Alone.

She’s naked now. We can see she’s a she, her ankles spread wide. He whips her back and ass, wrapping the tip of the whip toward her pussy and cunt. Then he turns her over and whips her other side. She comes very quickly when she’s fucked with Mr. Pogo. He intensifies the position and plunges his hand in her cunt. The cunt sucks at him, trying to pull him in. She comes again.

Now seated, U-bolts lock down her thighs. A metal band tight around her waist matches the Garrote at her throat, keeping her plastered to the post. Mr. Pogo fucks her mouth, then her ass. As the vibrator purrs in her pussy, she begs to come. Afterward, her pussy’s open and loose, unfurled.

Vacuum tubes suck her breasts, distending her nipples. Her vacuumed pussy grows huge and bright red. After facing a sadistic and twisted PD, Erica’s happy and playful, wagging her tongue at world...

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She seems so soft, so clear-eyed, so willing to please. Bronte lays on a stage where things are not soft, where the mouth is blocked and the eyes made blind, and where the cost for everything pleasing is paid for in pain.

She’s in full rubber – a bodybag from toes to chin, ballgag, and latex blindfold. PD strikes her with a cane, leather paddle, flogger, singletail, and finally uses the cattleprod – now dubbed “the motivation.”

“The motivation” drives a game of Find the Dildo. Still blindfolded, she worms around searching, highly motivated. PD mind-fucks her to the max, acting as though he’s going to shock her pussy. Instead he inserts a vibrator and gets her off, but it’s really a set-up for his next game.

Wrists and ankles are held fast in a single set of stocks. Her cunt practically sucks Mr. Pogo inside and a vibrator teases her up, giving Bronte a big hard-on. Now we learn that she doesn’t like hoods. In her pre-orgasmic ache, he bargains hood-time for cane strokes. In between, he vibrates her, but not to orgasm. When she finally comes, she shoots Mr. Pogo out her cunt and sits in a puddle of her ejaculate, her eyes and face all dreamy with Game.

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Reminiscent of the Live Feeds when a model was put through the ringer, this shoot is packed – tons of assplay, electro-shock with a stim in the ass, whipping & caning , lots of fantastic devices, a simple but fun PD mindfuck, and Catherine’s head and face shrink-wrapped with clear plastic. Catherine eats it up.

She’s sitting and locked onto a metal frame suspended in the air. Two bars arch her back inward, pushing her ass out for maximum access. An inflatable assplug goes in. PD pumps it up, then a little more. (With PD, it’s always a little more. . .) He swings her by tugging the bulbous assplug outward. Catherine’s head is strapped into a harness and a ring gag. Her sounds are more animal than human. A wooden breast-press, thick collar, whip, and cane add to her discomfort before PD gets her off.

She’s seated on a metal assplug and chained to the chair of a thousand pricks of pain. A metal tit squeezer forces her back against the spikes. Metal piping immobilizes her neck. The bell helmet covers her head, a subtle form of breathplay. In time, the helmet is removed and replaced with a bit-gag and nose hook chained upward. Now PD screws around with the shock-box, saying he’s not sure how to use it. Catherine makes nervous noises. Soon she’s squirming and moaning, but can’t rise off the electrified assplug.

Neck and wrists are shackled to a post. After a whipping and caning, PD shrink- wraps Catherine’s head and face, leaving a tiny breathing hole between her lips. PD canes her as she comes – a long, strong orgasm to finish off her “visit” to Infernal Restraints .

Bronte’s twenty-years-old, and she’s been doing BDSM with her boyfriend since she was eighteen. With clear eyes and creamy skin, she’s restrained with cable ties as PD interviews her. And it’s obvious, her love of the play. As soon as he slaps her face her body goes into a sexual meltdown.

Cable ties pull her wrists to her knees, forcing her into an awkward, vulnerable position - her back arched, her pussy pushed outward. An avid cocksucker, she works a dildo with gusto. And later, she’s locked into the Fiddle so that she’s forced to kneel. PD whips her with a singletail until she’s striped red. She takes it like she’s had quite a lot of practice. And her pussy’s dripping wet.

Wearing a metal bit-gag and a waist belt that pokes a huge wooden prod inside her cunt, Bronte fusses when PD canes her. But within minutes of the vibrator on her pussy, she comes, later saying that the bondage was just the right kind of “hurt.” Bronte promises to return. She claims she’s ready to suffer for PD.

One has to wonder if she’s done the research, if she’s ever seriously watched Insex.

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The repetitive squeak of metal against metal. She swings, strapped onto a steel grate that’s hanging mid-air, parallel to the floor. Her neck and torso are strapped tight. Her lower legs and arms have been pulled through the grate, folded backwards, and fixed in place. Mr. Pogo slips into her cunt, fucking her. Then in her mouth. The grate, perfectly balanced, pivots easily. Her head angles downward, her mouth at cock height.

A flogger strikes her breasts, giving them a blush. The whip that slaps her pussy colors her labia rosy. He sits in front of her face. Manipulating first one hole, then the other. It doesn’t take long. She comes quickly, happy.

Wooden stocks weigh on her neck and wrists. She sits on a bed of spikes. He gets hard when he sees tears run down her cheeks. Through all the foot torture, from skewer to cattle prod to cane and back again, she laughs. But after she comes, when she can’t do what he wants, she tears up.

Doused in excess, her balance centers upon one point only. Small effort sets her in motion, back and forth, swinging.

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Like some animal, PD leaves Hunter hanging in a cramped cage, her hair obscuring part of her face. She’s soon shackled and strapped into her tight position. He plays with her pussy and tickles her feet. Then caning and the dreaded skewer. He fingers her pussy again. Now she’s wet. PD takes her on a rollercoaster ride of sensation, getting her off early. Orgasm as a precursor to torture.

She undresses inside the cage, squirming her muscular body this way and that, finally giving a glimpse of her huge tits. Mr. Pogo’s propped inside of her. Red and black spike heels go on her feet and she’s lowered to the floor.

First, the cattle prod. After that, the cane. He locks her neck outside the cage and slaps her face until tears form in her eyes. A solid ring gag holds her mouth in a perfect O. Her huge tits are lashed to a bar of the cage and caned. He places the vibrator in her plush pussy then makes her reach for it so that she chokes herself as she comes.

There’s always a payment for pleasure.

She’s looking for easy money. God knows what he’s looking for. He picks her up in a small town and drives her someplace way on the edge of nowhere. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s in trouble. And he’s ready for cunt.

He cable ties her wrists to her ankles then makes her suck his cock right there in the front seat of his truck. Then he stuffs her mouth with a Maxi-pad and wraps electrical tape around her head. She’s helpless now. Completely. He drives her even farther out – the long road to nowhere.

A noose around her neck leads her toward a barn. Trapped against the rough barn siding, she’s folded neatly in half at the waist. He bangs her so hard the head of his dick must be pounding the bone of her back.

Bilbos and a long cleaning with a bristle brush prep her for another mouth job. He jams his long cock so deep in her throat she can’t breathe. And he holds her head there until she squirms, desperate for air. She screams hysterically as he inflates first an ass plug then a dildo inside of her. After lacing a hood tightly to her face, he leaves her for the night.

It’s the weekend.

One day down...

Her wrists are cuffed and hoisted high behind her. She’s hooded and shackled. PD lets her fuss and sweat for a while. After some caning and a little breathplay, Kendra’s allowed to sit. This is the real beginning, when the torture starts. Hundreds of spikes on the seat, back, and arm rests of the chair bite into her soft flesh.

A metal collar attached to the chair immobilizes her neck. When she refuses to drink from a water bottle, a harness is strapped onto her head, forcing a tube into her mouth. He pours water into a funnel, choking her – somewhat like drowning. She complains that she has to pee. It dribbles out from the crotch of her pantyhose, pattering against the metal of a bucket beneath her.

Her back is chained tightly to the spikes of the chair. Mr. Pogo fucks her mouth and cunt, and a vibrator hums against her pussy. She tries to stay still, but it’s impossible. The spikes make multiple marks on her skin. She comes, mewing like a cat.

Chained to a metal bed, she can’t get comfortable. He thrusts her pelvis upward with a huge block of wood. Whipped on her pussy then vibrated, her body twists and pulls against the chains. She gulps at the air. Kendra comes again, her pussy flushed and rosy....

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She sits on a stool, her neck and wrists fixed in stocks. PD tapes her stinky panties over her face, then pulls the stool from under her ass. As she struggles, sybil thanks him, the perfect submissive. Ever helpful, PD puts a hook in her cunt, props Mr. Pogo inside her, then provides a bed of spikes to sit upon. Spike heels for her feet, face torture, and nipple clamps add to her misery.

Strapped to a pivoting metal grate, a clear latex hood gives sybil an eerie look. After a whipping and cattle prodding, he bolts a long, large dildo inside her cunt and vibrates sybil, denying her an orgasm. Oh please, oh please, sybil moans. Finally he allows her to come, but then sybil’s begging again - oh please, oh please take it off. PD forces out another orgasm before he relents.

She wears the leather bag hood, a metal collar, tit squeezer, and waist belt. PD locks a cunt-trainer between her thighs. It forces her to keep her legs spread. Chained to two poles and standing on the bed of spikes, sybil can barely move. She’s caned on the ass and tits. But sybil is very tired. She’s exhausted. One more orgasm finishes her off.

Sybil’s submissiveness is sorely tested by a barrage of devices that strain her to the max – body and soul.

Cherrytorn bears the brunt of harsh implements and two predicaments that build intensity over time. In the first, an accumulation of devices creates a physical quagmire for cherrytorn. The second tableau looks like an H. R. Giger print – a body arranged to be reminiscent of the female form, embedded in technology.

She’s moaning from the very first minute, wearing uncomfortable wooden stocks, a metal head cage with metal bit, and flat steel ankle stocks. She sits on a stool, her camo mini-skirt hiked to her thighs. Up through a hole in the stool seat, a set of rigid stainless steel anal balls works its way past her pretty polka-dot panties and up her ass. Even orgasm can be torture, much less caning and whipping. Every change in position brings more pain. Enter PD with Mr. Pogo in one hand and a cattle prod in the other. He proceeds to do one of the things he does best – terrorize.

Cherrytorn’s body is folded and crimped into a tight splayed position. She hangs in a simple metal frame that pivots at the waist. Black leather straps, mitts, and strangulation collar immobilize her. After a warm-up with a cane, PD’s large fist slips into her cunt well up to the knuckles. She mews and moans as a vibrator works her overly-sensitized clit. A speculum spreads her cunt. He tightens cherrytorn’s collar, pivots her parallel to the floor, and fucks her with a dildo.

Then turned upside down, cherrytorn’s mouthfucked until her face goes as pink as her hair...

Tattoos on the backs of her fingers read – DOLL FACE. So what’s this girl with the doll face doing here, standing at the lip of The Inferno?

She wears the Fiddle and the double ankle shackle, metal ball gag. Painful unrelenting metal. Drool drips from her mouth as PD fingers her pussy and cunt. The hoist pulls the Fiddle upward. A vibrating bullet presses into her pussy. PD pokes her breasts with a skewer.

(You can poke and prod a doll with a skewer. A doll doesn’t feel.)

The Fiddle is attached to a short metal arm jutting out from a metal pole. At first she’s on her knees and fucked and caned. But soon she’s on her feet and PD’s driving her around and around in circles.

(If you humiliate a doll, will the doll turn her face away? If you play with a doll’s pussy, will she come?)

With institutional restraints on her wrists and ankles, Mya’s affixed to one of PD’s devices. She sits with legs up and spread. Clamps on her lovely nipples pull them upward. She’s pussywhipped. Straps on her inner thighs force her pussy outward. It looks huge. He fucks her with three fingers. Then with an dildo inflated in her cunt and a finger in her ass. The vibrator hums in that large pussy. Drool spills out her mouth. She comes once, twice, three times very fast, shooting the inflated dildo out her ass.

Distant afterward, her face is devoid of expression. So maybe that’s why she’s here. Perhaps the doll wants her Doll Face shattered.

To be or not to be. . . Conscience does make cowards of us all. . . 

In the 1970’s, a young woman named Colleen Stan was hitchhiking. Within a matter of minutes, she was handcuffed and her head locked in a box. She spent seven years under the control of her captor.

MILIEU CONTROL

The girl wears a simple dress, not sexy, certainly not ostentatious. Her head is locked inside of a box. The girl’s hands and ankles are cuffed. The box smothers her sounds.

Solitary confinement and sensory deprivation cut off contact with the outside environment. It seeks to establish domain over the individual’s sense of self.

PERSONAL MANIPULATION

Her gives her sexual pleasure. He caresses. Then he canes – sharp and biting. He shocks her with a cattle prod while a vibrator is clamped against her clit. The shocks are delivered intermittently, allowing her to wait, to guess when the next shock will occur. In the end, he shocks her pussy. She cries.

Coercive techniques and intense terror cause the subject to regress in reverse chronological order. Reduced capacity to deal with complex situations lead to dependency upon the captor – as a child to a parent.

GUILT

Her legs are strapped to posts bolted to the floor. Her head, strapped in a harness with inflatable gag, is pulled tightly backward to her arms in strappado. He inserts a dildo and orders her to keep it in. Then he beats her with a cane. The dildo shoots outward. He admonishes her and this time inserts a dildo with a speculum. Attachment points on the speculum are tied to the floor, pulling her pelvis downward, putting pressure on her arms. A wire cane beats her. Pain that the subject feels she makes worse by some action of her own is more likely to sap her resistance.

THE DISPENSING OF EXISTENCE (BEING OVER NOTHINGNESS)

He locks her in metal stocks, smiling as he canes her. Mr. Pogo is tied inside of her and a vibrator thrills her highly colored pussy. Hazel-eyed Pinky sits on Mr. Pogo, trying to work the vibrator to just the right spot...

Sultry and beautiful, Leahnim’s into pain instead of Prozac. PD’s happy to oblige. He shifts into overdrive – orgasm denial and a heavy dose of torture.

Thick U-bolts sunk into a 4X4 lock down her ankles and wrists. PD laces the original Insex hood onto her head. She’s left to stew with a small vibrating bullet inside her panties. She gets off, but without asking permission. PD punishes her with the cattle prod. A cane whips the backs of her thighs.

With her ankles held fast by U-bolts, her head and wrists are locked into flat steel stocks. A wooden tit-squeezer cranks down, flattening her breasts. A skewer pokes her feet. Her pussy goes creamy. When she asks to come, PD pleasantly removes the vibrator and pokes under her toenails. He tightens the tit-squeezer. As he tortures her feet, he orders her to be silent, not to move. Now the vibrator again. She begs to come. The vibrator goes away. More foot torture. This goes on and on. At some point, Leahnim comes anyway.

For punishment, PD sits her ass on a bed of spikes. She screams in agony. But when PD vibrates her and denies her orgasm, she comes again!

Embedded in The Machine (a torment in itself), her huge pussy dangles between her thighs. Asshook, pussy clamps, and Mr. Pogo tied inside of her. The skewer again, and NO, you cannot come, PD says to Leahnim when she begs.

She comes.

PD took the metal frame and strapped me in; then spun me round and round. He wanted me to do something, which I still refused, so he tortured me some, caning, flogging, spinning. The spinning finally did me in. It's a scary feeling, being strapped into something and feeling helpless, unable to get out, and being flipped around and around, feeling like you're going to fall on your face sometime, inevitably. Exhilarating too in a way, and you think, oh it's not so bad, until it happens again and again, and then you realize no, no more. So i reluctantly gave in, and i hated feeling like I'd given in, so i became subdued.

Next, he took me out and stuck me into a hood, and I had a panic attack. I felt like I couldn't breathe and was suffocating, and didn't think I could handle it. After a bit of coaxing, I finally relented and agreed to try it again. The second time wasn't as bad, but I still felt like I was going to suffocate, and I was scared. He finally let me out of the hood after what felt like an eternity, and stuck me into a metal frame cage. Then he zapped me for a bit and hoisted me into the air. Okay, so here, another thing; i am scared to death of heights. especially in a little cage, and despite my misgivings, i was stuck in the cage, so i screamed as he pulled me higher and higher into the air, until I was almost at the top of the barn. He left me there screaming.

The day's over, and it's almost time to go home. I feel like I've been relieved of something again this trip. Everytime I come here, there's usually a session or two that is more intense than the others, and I feel cleansed afterwards. Usually it has to do with some sort of psychological trauma, some sort of major fear. They challenge me here though, and coax me to face my fears, and I feel like I really do end up facing myself ultimately, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's something therapy never could do, but it's interesting about this world, it offers something so extreme, so out of the ordinary, it allows you to be somebody for a moment. It more than anything, relieves you. And for me, allows me to really trust people again, for a little while at least. I can't wait to come back for another session!

You leave the farm awed, never having realized there was a whole different world out there, behind closed doors. It's time to go back home to the ordinary, to your life. You're glad to go back, but you have a few things to ponder now, thoughts and ideas run through your mind, new doors have been opened to you, your eyes opened. What will you do? The figure says "goodbye, you're always welcome back!" Maybe you will be back.

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You'd never know what went on behind closed doors to look at these people. Or as the case may be, inside barns and out in the empty farmlands. Another ordinary day of work, on the outside, the house looks nice and welcoming, the land looks like it's being worked on. Pass through the doors, immediately you're assaulted with visions of things you wouldn't have dreamed of. The bag of ropes, toys, tools lying open on the ground. As you move further in, the pulley system in the kitchen, the cage in the dining room, restraints lying around all over. And you start thinking to yourself, what really goes on behind closed doors?

You peek into the barn; it looks like any other barn from the outside, but no sound except some sort of mechanical buzz, but you're not entirely sure, and you see to your surprise, it's been converted into some sort of metalworking and woodworking workshop, with tons and tons of devices around. Come out the back of the barn, and all you see is a pond, farmlands, and up in the hills, some cows grazing.

Come out in puzzlement, wondering what is going on here? See a familiar figure, or maybe not, working over a piece of wood, and he waves hello; it's your average joe (at least you thought). He says, "Welcome to the farm."

I came to the farm with no real idea of what it would be like, who would all be here, or what would actually happen. In a strange way, I trusted these people before I came here. (It did help too though, that I'd actually met them before and worked with them before). After deplaning in NYC, I took an hour and 15 minute cab ride to Brooklyn, where I met with the man who would take me to the farm. Of course, already hearing it be referenced as the farm, I was a little apprehensive, a little nervous, and "the farm" sounded almost ominous, menacing. The man, who I'd met several times before, working on the set, had never really said much to me, so that made me a little nervous as well. Luckily, he did have a traveling companion with him though, his girlfriend, so there was not too much awkwardness traveling up. We made a few stops on our way up, for food (airlines don't feed you!), and then coffee, before finally settling in for the long 3 hour drive to the village where the farm was located.

It took an hour to get out of the city. That 3 hour drive gave me some insight into this couple's relationship. It was interesting to watch, in a way. Whenever she wanted something, whatever she said, he would be completely absorbed in, would immediately pull over for her. It was something that would hold significance later on, I found.

Once we got out of the city, the rest of the drive flew by. Since there really wasn't any interaction between the couple and myself, I settled in to ponder what the farm would hold and dozed off. When I awoke, there was a thick fog, and the roads were dark and winding. Finally, in the distance, we saw lights, and as we pulled closer, it brought into view a beautiful white victorian house. We were at the farm.

The next morning got off to a slow start. Upon being awakened, we scurried out to breakfast, the couple wondering why the boss hadn't waited to go together. We pulled into a little diner; where everyone knew everyone else. Already I was charmed by this little village. I went over to say hi and dine with the boss, and his friend. When we got back, we headed over to the barn to start shooting. In the daylight, the country was more beautiful than I'd realized the night before. Picturesque trees with their leaves turning shades of orange in the distant hills, cows grazing on a nearby green hill, so much farmland everywhere, the red barn. Around the back of the farm, a glistening blue pond, it was almost like a painting. (Can you tell I haven't been in the country very often before? Really though, upstate is beautiful!)

We stepped inside the barn, and were immediately cooled off. It was a warm 80 degrees outside, so the coolness was a relief. If the weather had been any indication of what was to come, we would have known what to expect, perhaps, and been better prepared, but perhaps not. In any case, once inside, the boss and the man started to try out a few devices on me. After making all the necessary adjustments, we were ready to shoot. I don't need to go into detail on the particulars of that shoot, but basically, it was an abduction scene, involving a huge truck, and lots of cable ties, and a snare device. Throughout the course of the day, the crew members worked to find a rhythm with each other. They basically left me snared and hanging onto the wall, when the rain started. They thought it would be a great idea to leave me there in the rain of course, and I, hating water as I did, resisted the idea. They won, and left me hanging there, screaming my lungs out. I hate water. The next scene involved me being forced into some sort of metal restraints, and ending up in an outdoor cage. Because I didn't want to do what he wanted me to do. They of course thought it would be fun to leave me in the cage, and left me screaming all night. And then, finally, when he came back to let me out, (I thought), he threw rocks down at me. And then hosed me off. In the cage. I thought I was going to drown. Once again, I say; I hate water........

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