In the first place I'd given him my word; in the second I kind of shared his species' view of the "warlike" nature of ours, and couldn't imagine anything even approximating a reasonable reception that he'd receive if I did report him.I had Scarpia's example before me if I was in any doubt. He questions Cavaradossi, the tenor, briefly about information that he, Scarpia, wants, and when Cavaradossi won't answer immediately puts him to horrific torture. Sure, that was just grand opera, but it was verismo opera—meant to parallel the truth—and the scenario was pretty readily accepted as realistic. And with about half the country already supporting torture as an acceptable means of extracting information from suspected—only suspected!—terrorists, I wouldn't submit a goldfish to that type of "interrogation."Come to think of it, that wasn't about to change—either my own views or the serious possibility of that kind of response if Asmedogh clammed up, and why wouldn't he? Which left me with. Natalie lightly pushed Sasha backwards until she was laying on the ground. Sasha braced herself for the decline onto the floor, moving her head to where she believed Natalie was, unable to see the exact location and a little hesitant about what Natalie was doing to her. Natalie took one of the other torn pieces of drape and took Sasha's left hand and then her right and bound them together with the torn velvet from the window. Sasha let out a quiet gasp as the knot in the velvet was tightened.Proud of herself, Natalie nudged Sasha with her shoe to see what the response would be. "Hey!" cried Sasha. "I'm sorry, my balance must have slipped," responded Natalie. Natalie looked down at Sasha, keeping her gaze focused on Sasha's chest going up and down with every breath, noticing the two little bumps on her chest from her nipples being slightly hard. "You act like you don't like it, but I can see you do," Natalie said with a firmness in her voice. "I've never been tied up before, I don't.
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