One day I was idly watching a large house fly bashing itself against the inside of my office window. Inspiration struck.
The next time one of my “terror victims” came over to she could have hardly failed to notice the Mason jar with several irate yellow jackets inside. Just in case she had already worked herself into an unobservant subspace, at one point, I casual picked it up, gave it a shake to send them wildly buzzing about the bottle and put it down again without comment. A while later, she found herself blindfolded, naked and tightly bound to a frame. It may have taken a moment to realize what the cold, hard circle pressing down on her breast was, but when the first of the flying bodies ricochet off her skin, the light… and absolute terror… dawned. She was too tightly bound to move much, but within those confines she was a whirling dervish. When the little darlings got tired and began to walk about on her taut skin, she begged most engagingly. Only when I removed the blindfold did she realize that the jar pressed against her skin contained only a few houseflies.