"How many hours?"
The voice was a harsh, echoing crack in the pitch-black vacuum of the vault.
Yanna flinched, her body convulsing in the pile of mink furs. The absolute darkness had stripped her of her equilibrium. She had no concept of up or down, only the freezing air, the throbbing agony of her spanked flesh, and the relentless, heavy pressure of the silicone plug stretching her open.
"I asked a question, Asset."
Light exploded.
It wasn't a gradual illumination. The industrial LED banks of the subterranean depository snapped on with a violent, buzzing thwack, searing through Yanna's retinas.
She screamed, throwing her hands over her face, curling tighter into a fetal ball on the mesh floor of the suspended cage.
"Lower your hands," Camille commanded.
Yanna forced her trembling arms down. She squinted through the blinding glare.
