My yucky, olden, pre-pubescent school uniform of non-sexuality. But, actually, it wasn't my olden-times school uniform, it was somebody else's and it ...as an even yuckier and more disgustingly polyesterish nightmare of non-arousing institutional attire. Well, my tummy sunk and my shoulders slumped, my perky pokie breasticules of perfection sagged and my shower-head cunny turned as arid as Death Valley and if any todgers had come visiting, I just know they would have shrivelled up and died. It. A few moments later, with a rattle, the doors slowly rolled upwards.“Recognise him?” Robbie asked Jack, pointing at Terry.Jack looked, frowning, and slowly shaking his head.“Imagine him trussed up with his shoe laces and belt.”Jack looked closer. “Oh my good grief,” he exclaimed after a few moments. He grinned at Robbie. “Looks like them crossbows came in useful.” The bolt was still protruding from Terry’s face.“Yeah. Thank god!”“But what,” Jack paused. “Later. Get them inside.” He grabbed. More

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