[ HFD Chapter 14 ]
Over the next couple of weeks, Harry became a regular at the specialty shop, purchasing implements of delicious torture to test on his captive. The results varied, although the sessions rarely failed to leave Fia flushed and breathless despite her insistence otherwise.
Only the hot wax turned out to be a little too comfortable, which considering the environment she came from, wasn't surprising. He was having such a blast coaxing involuntary reactions from her admittedly stunning body that waiting for her to crack was no hardship at all.
It was well into the third week of her confinement that he saw a sign of the daily torment getting to her. They were eating breakfast together as was becoming routine, Fia unabashedly scarfing down the yogurt and fruit. Her earlier defiance had gone without a trace, but Harry never rubbed it in: it was in his best interest to keep her healthy and full of energy, and dosed with potions to boot.
Her breasts were on full display, but after her repeated acts of dribbling food on them and asking him to clean her off failed to get a rise out of him, she no longer provoked him even if his gaze lingered. And linger it did, because even though he was getting used to the view, that pair was out of this world.
Fia's spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl, and she let out a contented sigh. Giving him a sideways glance, she spoke up.
"How do I take these off?"
"Hmm?" He gave her a look of mild curiosity, inwardly cheering.
Not meeting his eyes, she tapped a nail against the lock-shaped button on the leather shorts Melly had provided weeks ago. "It doesn't open."
He feigned confusion. "Why would you need it to? I told you, the magic in here takes care of all your sanitary needs."
"They're—it's—" Color seeped into her cheeks. "What's it to you? They're uncomfortable to sleep in."
"Odd." He made a show of pondering the conundrum. "They're enchanted for comfort, after all. Maybe I should ask her to sew a new pair."
She threw her hands up. "Why make me wear these in the first place?"
He furrowed his brows. "I thought that was your style. If you'd rather be naked again..."
"Forget about it." She huffed, then muttered under her breath, "Freak."
His cheek twitched but he managed to keep a neutral expression. "What was that?"
"Nothing. Your useless round ears must be playing tricks on you." She rolled her eyes. "So, what terrible tortures are you going to inflict on me today, oh cruel warden?"
"I was actually thinking of giving you a break since you've been so civil lately." He grinned. "Don't look so disappointed—I'll make sure to prepare something extra stimulating tomorrow."
"I wasn't..." Her frown changed into a smirk, and she stretched her hands over her head, reclining against the wall. "Oh, I see how it is. You're running out of ideas! How about you admit your loss and set me free already?"
He rose to his feet and reached out to tousle her hair, to which she responded with her usual growling and clawing. "Look forward to tomorrow."
****
Fia ate in silence when Harry brought her a hearty meal the next afternoon. He could feel her speculative gaze on him while he cleaned up, but perhaps recalling his promise, she didn't make any snide remarks.
With measured steps, he walked over to the the medieval implements lining the walls. He passed the Catherine wheel, the rack, the torture chair, then hummed and backtracked. Brandishing his wand, he transported the chair into the center of the room. A Scouring Charm brightened the wood and made the iron manacles on its legs and armrests gleam in the lamplight. The latter had vicious spikes running along their inner surface.
He faced Fia. "Don't look so alarmed. You should know by now I don't intend to hurt you. At least not too badly."
"As if anything you can do would scare me," she scoffed, her eyes flicking off the chair to his. "You're merely a boy playing a role you're woefully inept at."
"And you're a big, scary demon who was captured by said boy." He smiled, approaching. "Let's get started, shall we? First, take those off." He jabbed his wand and murmured the unlocking phrase.
She sent him a suspicious look, yet her hand was already dipping to the waistband of her shorts. Her eyes widened when the button came undone, giving him a glimpse of pink lace underneath.
Fia gave him a baleful glance and buttoned up again. "I knew you had something to do with this idiotic thing! Whatever harebrained scheme you're entertaining—"
"Didn't you hear what I said?" He tapped his wand against his palm. "Take them off."
She crossed her arms. "If you want my garbs so much, come here and take them yourself."
He snorted. "And you were so eager to get them off yesterday. Accio!"
Squeaking, Fia plopped down on her butt and kicked in the air as the shorts were yanked off her legs, leaving only her panties to preserve her modesty. She winced and rubbed her bottom before draping her blanket over herself.
A swipe of his wand wrenched it away, and another unhooked her collar from the wall. He floated her into the chair, ignoring her flailing with practiced nonchalance.
"This would be a lot easier on both of us if you just obeyed my orders," he commented.
"Piss off." She spat at him, missing by several inches.
Sighing, he clasped the leather manacles around her wrists and bound her ankles with the iron ones attached to the chair. He then used the winch to raise her hands above her head, leaving enough slack for her to sit in relative comfort.
"There we go." Her cheeks were flushed from the brief struggle and her chest heaved, her fiery hair falling to her breasts. Her legs were spread so her kitty panties were in full view. "Not too uncomfortable, is it?"
Her eyes merely narrowed in response.
Unruffled, he continued speaking as he fetched his toys. "I could adjust the manacles, you know. Maybe even get you a cushion to sit on. All you need to do is ask."
"Why don't you adjust your face with that mallet over there?"
Harry chuckled. "It's nice to see you so sprightly. We're going to have so much fun today." He brought his feathers over and spread them in the air, leaving them to hover on their own power.
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