Does Chain Hang Low Novels & Stories

A low groan, part pain, part pleasure, answers her, but she repeats her question nevertheless. Bella's reply remains the same, although now her tone is somewhat strained. "Well, if that's the case, I'm sure you won't have any problems with these, either." An expert at knowing when a well placed pause has more impact than any threat, she waits for a moment, then clips a thin chain to the clasp of the padlock, and starts adding weights to the dangling

"I know you well, Sam. You'd do anything to get away from me now." He wasn't wrong. But better the devil I now knew then the multiple ones I did not. He climbed over me, to shift a board on the wall, rolling it sideways to reveal a lever on the wall. He tugged it down. Chains lowered from a pulley above. Clanging as they dumped from where they'd been neatly stacked atop a rafter. Dropping several feet, to sway over our heads. "Chains?" I yelped. Iron shackles swayed on the end of them.

The chain acted like a leash for them to lead him like an animal. He craned his neck to see if the end of the chain was being held by a guard, fastened to a hook, or laying limp across the seat. To Shen’s excitement, the chain was draped across the seat between the guards. He just might be able to pull this off after all.

Now, that's more like it. I don't say anything as I walk to the chain roller attached to the wall and pull it backward. I hear the chains dragging on the floor lift and tighten around his ankles and wrists. He yells as the chain lifts him two feet off the ground, so he is hanging above the wall with his hands now tied above his head.

She was the one whimpering. On the left side of the chandelier was a body hanger that looked like a leather swing with holes, attached to the ceiling. And on the right side of the chandelier was a set of iron chains, attached to the ceiling in a rectangular shape, cascading downward and almost reaching the floor. In the middle of these chains was a pole dance stand with a little stage. Its four edges stopped at exactly where the chains landed. And on the floor of the wooden stage were peg holes for hooking chains and restraints.

I clenched my hands tight as I stared at the fingerprint of the fucker, on her neck. "Make sure he's chained by the neck" I said through gritted teeth. "The chain must restrict his airflow. Smaller than the size of his neck." "What else?" Russo asked, his face contorted in anger as he stared at Grisella's unconscious body. "The chain to be used on the bastard should be those one that drop from the ceiling. He must stand on a single stool. Shaky one, at that" I continued, already anticipating what I was going to do to him

No one ever felt safe guessing. He stood taller than most—six-two, built like he’d been carved for fights. The height wasn’t just there; he used it, carried it like a weapon. Hard lines everywhere, though somehow it all held a kind of pull, the sort of beauty that made people lean closer even when they knew better. Ink wound its way down his arms, curling under his shirt. Every mark on his skin was a story, stamped there for good. When he leaned forward, the silver chain around his neck caught the light, just a flicker of shine—but enough. People went quiet without meaning to.

he gestures to the two guards. He turns and i see what's hidden behind him a chain hanging from the ceiling with a hook dangling from the end. He picks up the looped end of the rope tying my legs and attaches it to the hook as the other man starts to turn the handle of a winch. The chain rises and though i struggle I'm dragged across the floor.

Ankles restrained too, but with just enough slack to shift position. Not careless. But not perfect either. I took a slow breath. Observe first. Move later. I tilted my head slightly, letting my eyes adjust fully to the dim light. The chains weren’t thick industrial ones — they were reinforced, but the links were standard. Strong… but not unbreakable. The ring in the wall? Bolted. Four screws. Slight rust around the edges. My lips pressed together. Interesting. I shifted carefully, testing the range of movement. The chain scraped again, but I controlled the sound this time.

It looked exactly like the pendant around my neck, but massive. "The tether!" Cord shouted, stepping back from the intense heat, his chest heaving, his tunic completely soaked in sweat. We couldn't drop the anchor unattached. It needed a wire to carry the signal back to the surface. Kael and the miners had dragged the heavy, thick iron chains that had once hoisted the elevator. They linked them together, forming a massive, continuous chain. Cord grabbed the end link and, with one final, earth-shaking strike of his hammer, welded it directly to the top of the forged teardrop.