Bound, sealed, shut in a crypt, a circle of light traced with runes. The flow of power, of essence, across my skin. The chanting of the robed figures ...hat surrounded me, struggling against my shackles, screaming against my gag.How long? Can eternity be measured in hours? No clock. No sun, no moon. No hunger or thirst, or the red thirst that replaced it, no hair to grow. Nothing. Only me and my memories, wrapped around themselves. Only my prison.And something else. A whisper. A fragment of a. She watched it for a few seconds, mentally lowering the trousers to expose it. Ah well Jake went to the bar. Julie called out. ‘Right, Mary and Anne will replenish your drinks folks whilst I see to the kitchen for five minutes.’ The men ogled Mary’s swelling bosom which threatened to burst out of the bunny bodice at any moment – particularly when she bent forward to pour a brandy for Bill – and Anne’s dark nipples pressed against the tight cotton blouse as she poured glasses of wine. Jake. More

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