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Revenge is a Dish By Anna NaMaus © 2016 by Anna NaMaus. All rights reserved. Published by Dark Thoughts. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where the publisher or author specifically grants permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This is the second novel from new author Anna Na Maus, and the first to feature the Angels of Etain a group set up to punish abusive men and to help their victims. Some of their methods are a little bit extreme, but loads of fun. I hope you enjoy it. Introduction My name is, or at least it was, Daniel Wentworth and I am writing this of my own free will. I freely admit that I have made mistakes in my life and that those mistakes have caused pain and suffering to other people. More specifically women. Those mistakes brought me to the attention of a group known as The Angels of Etain. If you are reading this then please take note, I was not an evil person, at least I don't think I was, but I have paid a heavy price for the things I did. If you are living a life like that I led then you too may find yourself in the hands of these, so-called, Angels. Let me tell you now that there will be no trial, no chance to tell your side of the story, there will be no mercy and I assure you there is no chance of ever returning. What you are reading here is my story. I have written it using the entries from a diary that I was encouraged to write from my first day as a guest of the Angels. While most of it is my own work there are a few parts that have been added by some of the tale's other participants, just to fill in some rather important events that I knew nothing about. At the time of my final indiscretion I was just 23 years old. I had left home 4 years earlier to escape my over bearing, over protective parents. They weren't bad parents, in fact they were, and still are, very loving. But I had my ideas about how a life should be led and they had theirs. The simple truth being that we didn't agree on anything. Despite being regarded as bright by my teachers I had no love for education and left school as soon as I could at the age of 16. It didn't take me long to find my first job, as a telephone canvasser for a small, local double glazing company. I was one of those people that seems to annoy every one by ringing them up and trying to get them to make appointments with the sales team. The thing is I turned out to be good at it, in fact I was very good at it. Not that my parents were impressed with my success, they believed that success took the form of A-levels and university so, by leaving school when I did, I was always going to be a big disappointment. After just one year in my job the company I worked for expanded and I was given my own team of canvassers to lead. It was the first rung on the managerial ladder and I suddenly found myself earning around a hundred pounds a day. I seemed to have an incredible knack of passing on my skills to all the members of my team and they flourished. As you can imagine it didn't take long for me to get poached by a bigger company to work as their canvassing manager. By the age of 21 I was earning what most people would regard as silly money. I had bought myself a nice apartment in the centre of Bristol. I had a wardrobe full of nice clothes, all the latest gadgets and then there was my pride and joy, a bright red two-year-old Mazda MX-5. As some of the sales guys in my new job were keen to point out a lot of people say it is a girl's car but I really loved that car and was never overly worried about what other people thought of my choices. I've always been a sociable type and I had what I would class as a few really close friends, most of whom, strangely enough, were girls, and then I had a lot of, what I think of as associates. This second group consisted mainly of the people that I worked with, and it was those so- called friends who turned out to be the underlying cause of my only real problem. You see the world of direct sales is full of larger than life men, all back slapping, coarse, loud manly men who loved to go out and get drunk to escape from the stresses of a very high pressure job. Remember how I told you that I am a sociable type of guy, that is true. I'm just not that type of guy, I'm the quiet drink with friend's kind. I could pretend well enough so that none of the guys ever seemed to notice but I didn't really enjoy it. The other thing is, I can't hold my drink. A couple of drinks and I'm fine, that's normally when my real friends tell me to stop. Three or four drinks and I start getting loud, that's when I need to be dragged home. Any more than four and I can't control my mouth at all. But I really only ever get like this when I am out with the guys from work and, whilst my real friends would try and stop me from getting into that state these guys actively encourage it. They find it very amusing to send me off to chat up girls and laugh hysterically when I bomb, and I always bomb. If I get a slap it's even better as far as they're concerned. I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or not, but when I do get that drunk I remember virtually nothing the next morning. Sometimes I have turned up at a pub and been refused entry because of my behaviour on a previous visit but unless I wake up to the sound of angry boyfriends banging at my door there aren't usually any serious consequences. Usually. Unfortunately, on one particular works night out something must have happened that changed everything. I don't know what I did but I guess I went more than a bit far and on this occasion, there were consequences. Lots of consequences. Chapter 1 It felt as though there was a little man with a jack hammer pounding away in my head. I groaned quietly and tried to roll onto my side but my body felt unusually heavy and I was overcome by a wave of nausea before I managed to get anywhere so I remained flat on my back and took several deep breaths to bring the sickness under control. About thirty minutes of spinning room later I was ready to try again. Ever so slowly I opened my eyes, then I closed them again, quickly, not quite believing what I had seen. Gingerly I raised my eyelids once more. I blinked twice, then a third time but the view didn't change. I was either having some sort of out of body experience or I was looking at myself in a large mirror attached to the ceiling. I was still dressed in my white t-shirt and faded blue jeans from the night before. What I hadn't been wearing the night before were the thick black straps criss- crossing my body and binding me tightly onto the bed. There were straps across my ankles, my knees, waist, shoulders and even my forehead. In addition, there were cuffs on each wrist. Cautiously I tested the straps one at a time, pushing the full weight of my body against my bonds but it was useless. There was no way I could escape. I tried to close my eyes and just ignore what I had seen, but for some reason I was strangely drawn back to the image reflected above me. As always happens in situations like this my brain began to kick into action, thoughts slowly pushing their way through the fog of my hangover. What had happened last night? Had I been in an accident and the bindings were to prevent further injury? No, I wasn't in any pain and there were no visible signs of injuries anywhere so it can't have been that. That left only one possible option, I was being held captive. The question was by whom, and why? I doubt very much that the Police strap prisoners onto beds, or have mirrored ceilings. So, who could it be? I cast my mind back to the night before in search of answers. We'd just had the best week of sales for any branch in the company's history and that meant that everyone was in a party mood so the alcohol had flowed freely, especially with everybody having the following day off while the office was refitted. With the offices near to the waterfront, we always started our nights out at the Watershed and that part of the evening was fine. All the canvassers came out as well as the sales guys, which made for a much more relaxed atmosphere. Flitting between different groups of colleagues I somehow managed to work my way through four bottles of lager without really paying enough attention to what I was doing. With my history, I really should have gone home at that point, just like nearly everyone else did. But a small group, made up entirely of sales guys, wanted me to go on somewhere else and, being too drunk to argue, I agreed, despite the efforts of a few my canvasser friends to change my mind. At some point during the evening I know that we ended up at Jersey Lily's, which is a really nice pub, unfortunately for me I'd been in there before and was on a final warning because I had apparently upset several female patrons over a period of just a few weeks. Lily's is a like proper country local pub, in the middle of the city. They have a good crowd of regulars and an even bigger crowd of visitors to the city so the pub is always busy. On the night in question I can vaguely remember going into the pub, I remember Lily, the landlady really is called Lily, telling me to take it easy and not cause any trouble, of course I promised that I'd be good. But after that it's all a bit of a blur. I can recall a few flashes of people, some of girls I seem to remember from other times some I'd never seen before, but there was nothing in my memories to give any reasons explaining why I should be strapped to a bed in a strange room. I remained strapped to that bed for an indeterminable amount of time hoping that somebody would come and tell me what was going on. In the end, when my patience ran out, I decided to try and attract their attention and force them to come. I tried shouting, but nobody came. I tried pleading, nothing. I even tried threats but still nobody came. Considering that I had been drinking, I guess heavily, the night before it wasn't much of a surprise that I was soon needing to pee. I held on for as long as I could, but when there is very little to distract you, that pressure in your bladder starts to take over your whole world and nothing else matters. It was about twenty-five minutes later that I finally gave up the struggle and a dark, flowing stain spread across the front of my jeans. At the same time tears of embarrassment ran down my glowing red cheeks. But still nobody came. The nausea that I had been feeling since I woke up slowly faded from my stomach. Only to be replaced by a slight grumbling. In time this turned into a gnawing hunger and my stomach growled. But still nobody came. After what felt like an eternity even my hunger had become a secondary problem as it was replaced at the top of my uncomfortable list by a raging thirst, my lips were dry and chapped to the point that they were starting to bleed, my throat was parched and sore and yet, I still managed to wet my trousers for a second time. Still nobody came. Finally, the tears stopped flowing down my cheeks, not because I had calmed down but simply because there was no more water in my body to spare. By this point I had no idea how long I had been awake for. It felt as though I had been awake for many hours and that coupled with a combination of hunger, thirst and fear left me feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. In the end, I fell into a fitful and most uncomfortable sleep. But still nobody came. In a darkened room, deep in the heart of the building somebody was watching. Somebody with a CCTV system was monitoring Daniel with a smile on her lips. She had watched him wake up, watched with fascination as he discovered his predicament and even laughed a little at the pain and embarrassment written all over his face the first time that he wet his trousers. She sat there sipping Earl Grey tea from a china cup as she watched a pushy, arrogant, and sexist young man showing the first signs of a person beginning to crack. "Don't you worry, somebody will come and see you soon enough Daniel," she whispered. Speaking only to the empty room. "But I promise you that you will wish they hadn't. You'll wish that you had been left alone to starve by the time I've finished with you" Chapter 2 "Wakey wakey. Rise and shine." I opened my eyes slowly to see who was talking to me, but all that I could see was my reflection above my bed. Trying to move my head for a better view didn't help as the tightness of my bonds thwarted me. With the only option being to look in the mirror once more I took the decision to close my eyes as they were being irresistibly drawn to the embarrassing stains at my crotch. "Who are you?" I asked, trying to sound surly but, in reality, it came out in a raspy croak, "and what do you want with me?" "My name is Doctor Cecilia Davenport," replied the voice. "But you will call me Ms Davenport or Madame. I am fortunate enough to be the owner of this establishment and you, you lucky thing, are my guest." "Your guest," I shouted, "I'll give you guest you crazy bitch, now are you going to release me or am I going to have to get rough." Actually, that's not I said at all. It's what I wanted to say but, in reality, my throat was too dry and all I could manage was a cough and a grimace. As I was coughing an arm appeared in the reflection above my head, the hand holding a plain white water bottle with a straw. The hand was definitely that of a perfectly manicured female with long slender fingers adorned by bright red painted nails. A gold, diamond encrusted, ring decorated the ring finger and a delicate gold chain hung from the wrist. "Here drink some of this," said Ms Davenport, "then maybe you can have your little tantrum." She placed the straw in my mouth and I sucked greedily, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down my parched throat. As I sucked she talked. "You are here, Daniel, because you have to pay a debt to society, quite a big debt really, and we are going to collect. You came to our attention several months ago as someone who is rude and abusive and you have a completely sexist attitude towards women. Following a long and intensive investigation we decided that you were deserving of a complete re-education. By the time we have finished you will understand women in a way that you never have before." I was struggling to believe my ears, re-education? Rude and abusive? What was she talking about? "I'm sorry but I really don't know what you mean," I responded, "I am always polite to the women I know, they are my friends and my equals. In fact, I challenge you to find one instance when I have been unkind to any of them." "I'm afraid that would be far too easy Daniel," was the reply, "you regularly treat women as though they are objects placed on earth for the amusement of men. You make jokes at their expense, and belittle them at every opportunity. I personally, have seen you reduce four different women to tears with your behaviour. When I was first told about you I couldn't believe my ears, but you really are as bad as everybody said you are and so I have taken it upon myself to make you understand how you make those poor girls feel." "Okay maybe I do suffer the odd 'foot in mouth' moment sometimes, and maybe I have unintentionally upset the odd girl, but it's nothing major and I swear it's only when I get drunk so it isn't even my fault really." I was beginning to feel a little unsure about the direction things were heading in and it was becoming evident in the pleading tone of my voice. "Normally I'm really nice. Honestly. I've got lots of women friends, I have." Ms Davenport interrupted my pleas. "Will you please stop that whining this minute. Good grief you really are a pathetic example of humanity. Now, listen carefully to what I am saying as you seem to misunderstand the position that you are in. This, here, isn't a trial and it certainly isn't an open forum for discussion." She paused. "You have already been found guilty of being a chauvinistic pig by your superiors. Your punishment has been decided in your absence and now you are here to pay the price for your sins. That is all. Now I will leave you to your thoughts and Clarisse will be in shortly to start the procedure." With that final announcement, the enigmatic and rather frightening Ms. Davenport left the room. I could hear her footsteps crossing the hard floor, her heels tapping a foreboding tattoo across the tiles. The door creaked slightly as it opened. Then more footsteps, fading as she walked away until they were abruptly cut off by the clunk of the door closing. For some reason this woman had come into my life, imprisoned me, threatened me and yet I hadn't even seen her face. Chapter 3 The brain is a terrible instrument for the self-infliction of torture. My captor, Ms. Davenport, had quite happily told me that I was facing a punishment. She had even told me that it would start when somebody called Clarisse arrived. But she didn't tell me when that would be and more importantly she didn't tell me what form the punishment would take. If you tell a man he is going to get a beating, then he can mentally prepare himself for the pain. Tell him you are going to take away everything he owns and he can come to terms with that too. But tell him nothing and you give his imagination free range to fill in the gaps. I don't know exactly how long I was left alone for on this occasion but it was long enough for my brain to work its way past standard punishments like beatings and through other more exotic tortures like electrocution. Humiliation was in there too, maybe being dumped naked in the streets, maybe videos on Facebook of me doing something unspeakable. Even the thought of castration worked its way into my brain and that was not pleasant. The added shame and embarrassment when I wet my trousers yet again did little to help my state of mind and when the door opened long before the mess had dried out a part of me wanted the ground to open up and swallow me there and then. Strangely though, there was another part of me that felt relief, maybe even gratitude that something was finally happening. Clarisse had arrived. There was no clacking of high heels as Clarisse crossed the floor, her shoes whispered on the tiles with just the occasional, barely audible, squeak. "My my," said a mocking voice, "how the mighty have fallen." She paused as she noticed the wet patch on my trousers. "Oh, and you've had a little accident. How sweet. I bet you don't remember me, do you?" Another pause. "Wait, of course, you can't see me, can you? Here let me help you up. Then we can have a lovely chat reminiscing about old times. Won't that be nice?" A ray of light filtered into the gloom that was the interior of my mind, was I about to be freed from the straps holding me down? Of course not, instead of a hand moving in to view to undo the buckles I heard the whine of an electric motor starting up. Without warning the whole of the bed began to tip rather rapidly. My feet went towards the floor and my head was raised until I was in an upright position. Unfortunately for me my feet didn't reach past the end of the bed to touch the floor and I was left dangling, held in place by the straps. It was neither a pleasant nor comfortable experience. I couldn't even escape my reflection. The mirror above the bed had a partner hanging on the wall directly in front of me that was showing me to be in an even more embarrassing and ridiculous position than I had been earlier. A girl stepped into the space between me and the mirror. With her bright pink hair and boyish figure I instantly recognised her from one of the memories I had dragged out of the fog earlier. But I could remember nothing about our encounter, not the where, nor the when and certainly not the how. "So, do you remember me now?" she asked, putting her hands on her slender hips and looking me right in the eye. "You're Clarisse?" I replied hoping that it might be enough placate the girl. "Good God, I know Madam told you my name, you really are going to have to do better than that if you want to impress me." I sagged a little further down in my bonds. "Do you remember what you said to me last time we met?" I shook my head. "Christ it was only a few months ago, are you telling me that you insult so many women it all blurs into one big laugh?" Again I shook my head. "No, it's not like that," I stammered, "I don't do mean things like that. At least not unless I've had too much to drink and then I never remember what I've done afterwards." Clarisse did not sound impressed by my reasoning. "Yeah right," she retorted, "like I'm going to believe that. You honestly expect me to believe that you're really a sweet guy who wouldn't say boo to a goose until you've had a few and then you turn into Mr Hyde or something." I nodded weakly, a response that seemed to irritate Clarisse even more and the anger was evident in her voice. "Bull, sweet guys don't do that. I bet you don't remember what you did because you don't care, you don't care that you upset and humiliated me. You don't care that total strangers were laughing at me over what you said. Face it, you are nothing more than a self-centred chauvinistic pig." The force of her anger made me want to shrink back into the hard mattress of the bed. "I do care," I blustered, "I really do. I just don't know what it is that I said, honestly I don't remember anything." "Really? So you don't remember asking me if I had ever wanted to look like a real girl? What about asking whether my friend appreciated having my boobs as well as her own? Maybe you remember shouting across the bar when I was going to the toilets? You know when you told me I had the wrong door and the Gents was around the corner? Do you remember that? Because I do, I have never been so embarrassed as I was then. I bet you don't remember me sneaking out of the pub to escape all the ridicule, or that my friend ended up getting in a fight with some guy whose comments went too far while she was in earshot? I suppose you don't remember any of that do you?" I hung there, trapped on my bed, and stung by her words. Is it possible that I had I really said those things? Is that the type of person I am when I'm drunk? I must assume that it is, after all, why else would she be saying it? "Look, I really don't remember," I was feeling bad inside now and was trying to apologise for what I'd done, but somehow it didn't come out quite right. "What you are saying sounds horrible, it really does and if I did do all of those things then I am truly sorry. I just can't believe that I would do something like that" "If," Clarisse almost spat the word at me, "if? What now you're calling me a liar? God I'm going to enjoy making you suffer. By the time we've finished with you..." she paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, "well, let's just say what you did to me will be nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you, and don't you forget it." With that she prodded at a little black box she was holding in her hand and the bed began to swing back into a horizontal position, causing me to lose sight of my tormentor. At least I wasn't made to wait very long to find out what was coming next. What was not so good was seeing a large pair of scissors coming into view on the mirror above my bed and those, illogical or not, thoughts of castration came back into my head causing me to really panic. I started to beg and plead with Clarisse not to do it and before I realised it was happening a little bit more wee leaked out to add to the stain on my trousers. "Oh my God!" hissed Clarisse with real disgust in her voice. "You really are pathetic. I can't believe I am going to have to touch that mess." With that she ran the scissors up the leg of my trousers, neatly slicing the denim in two, right the way up and through the waist band. Then she repeated the feat on the other leg. Grimacing she took hold of the damp fabric that was between my legs and pulled, extracting the remains of my trousers and leaving me in my wet, and thus fairly transparent, white cotton boxer shorts. Not that I kept even that modicum of decency for long, a few more carefully placed snips with the scissors, a bit of a tug and they too were thrown aside. My t-shirt went next cut into strips around my bonds, she even cut the strap on my wristwatch and the laces on my shoes. One thing was clear, I wasn't going to be walking out of here in the same clothes that I had arrived in. The last thing Clarisse did before she left me to my thoughts was to roughly wash me down with a sponge and some warm soapy water, the smell being rather too flowery for my taste. She made a cursory job of drying me off and walked out of the room without saying another word. That's when I noticed how cold it was getting. Chapter 4 It is a well-known fact that men's private parts shrink when they are exposed to the cold. Well the room had become very cold and my bits shrank. I'm sure it hadn't been overly cold beforehand but now it was so cold that my arms were developing goose bumps and my breath was starting to steam. I was left on my own, staring at my reflection in the mirror, seeing my shrunken member looking sad and sorry and not being able to do anything about it. I did have another go at breaking the restraining straps that held me in place but they were far too strong for me to achieve anything. Plus, without clothes protecting my skin the leather rubbed my flesh causing red weal's to develop. Slowly a tear began to trickle down my cheek. I closed my eyes against the world, and once again fell into a very troubled sleep. The second time I was woken up in the early days of my nightmare it was by the rattle of plates on a metal trolley. Opening my eyes, I couldn't help but groan at my reflection. Deep down I had done my best to convince myself that the nightmare was just that, a really bad dream. But the reality of my situation was in the mirror staring right back at me. "Good morning my Treasure," said a kindly sounding voice at the side of the bed. I tried to look at the source of the sound but, no matter how hard I twisted my neck muscles, I couldn't move. "Here let me get that for you," continued the voice, suddenly appearing in the mirror as it clicked the lock on my head restraint. The voice belonged to a matronly looking red haired lady with one of the warmest smiles you have ever seen. Probably in her fifties and with a cuddly, curvaceous figure Mary Shannon was the stereotypical Irish mother, except that she didn't sound even slightly Irish. Using one of the black box remote controls, Mary raised the head of the bed until I was in more of a sitting position. "Now then, if I release your hands do you promise to eat your breakfast nicely and not try anything stupid. I'd hate to bring Angelina in, she can be so ham fisted with her discipline. If you know what I mean?" "Angelina?" I whispered, suddenly nervous again. Had I ever met this Angelina, and if I had what had done to upset her? For now, it was probably best not to find out and so I agreed to Mary's instructions. Having accepted my promises Mary quickly released the restraints that held my wrists to the bed and I was soon working my way through a large cooked breakfast, ably assisted with copious amounts of tea and several slices of toast lavishly covered in real butter and strawberry jam. Whilst I ate Mary busied herself with the contents of a tray hidden on the lower shelf of her trolley. Only once I had chewed my last mouthful and washed it down with a final gulp of tea did Mary lift the tray onto the top of the trolley. "Right then Danni, you don't mind if I call you Danni do you? It's so much friendlier than Daniel," she said this as she moved back towards the bed. "I've got to lock you down again I'm afraid. Madam's orders. I am sorry but we'd best do as we're told eh? Hopefully it won't be for too long." Reluctantly I allowed myself to be placed back in my wrist restraints and then immediately regretted the decision as Mary picked up a syringe from the tray. As she, one by one, administered a whole series of injections in to various parts of my body she cheerfully explained what each one was for. "This one is a very powerful testosterone blocker, stop all those nasty aggressive feelings that seem to guide some of you men through life" she said as she plunged a needle into my naked thigh, "and this one is oestrogen, to replace the testosterone that you'll be losing with something a bit friendlier. Now this one is a progesterone it's going to make your nipples really pop, I reckon you'll love that." As she stuck needles into each buttock and both hips she declared that "these are brand new chemicals that Madam herself designed. They are supposed to attract fat cells to the area around the injection point and are much stronger than any of the body's natural controls. So, from now on everything that you eat will go straight to your hips and butt. Just like it does on me." She laughed good naturedly, totally oblivious to the horrors she was causing to run through my mind. "Now this one is going to feel a lot more pleasurable than those needles," continued Mary as she pulled a tub of cream from under the trolley and began to rub its contents into my chest. "According to Madam this is a concentrated hormone that is designed to help your breasts grow faster, finally we have this last little injection." She took one more needle from the tray and emptied its contents into my arm. "This one is to keep you relaxed. Now you just hang tight and some of the girls will be in soon to help you get dressed. You might remember them." "Why are you doing this to me?" I croaked, fear making my throat dry despite all the tea I had just drunk. "Because it's going to make you into a better person Dear," she replied using a tone of voice that suggested I should have already been aware of the reasons. With that Mary tidied up her trolley, returned my breakfast dishes to its shelves and took it from the room, allowing the door to close behind her. Once again leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thankfully I was alone for no more than a few minutes before the door opened again and three women walked in. One of the three was built like an Amazonian and I guessed her to be Angelina. She took up a threatening position by the door. The other two crossed the room towards my bed, at least Mary hadn't refastened my head restraint so I was able to watch them cross the floor. One of the girls was a blonde, the other a brunette. Both in their early twenties. "Hello Danni," smiled the blonde, although the smile was not a friendly one, "do you remember us?" Again, like Clarisse, the two girls were familiar but for the life of me I could not remember their names, nor where I'd had met them. Deciding that honesty might indeed be the best policy I mumbled a negative response. "Now that is a shame," continued the girl, "because we remember you. Don't we Kimberly?" The brunette nodded. "A while back you and some of your pathetic little friends thought it would be funny to steal our clothes at a party. You left us naked in the middle of a large group of people miles away from home with no transport because my car keys were in my pocket." I tried to remember some of the parties that I had been to recently, but all the ones that I could recall had been very pleasant and quite tame. I guessed that the party these girls were referring to was not one of those and that was I why I couldn't remember it. The brunette, Kimberly, entered the conversation, "As you obviously loved our clothes so much," the smile on her face was almost wicked by this point, ?we have decided that we are going to give you a whole wardrobe packed full of nice pretty clothes all of your own. Won't that be wonderful? Somewhere deep inside my mind I knew that I should have been horrified at this prospect and to a certain degree I was, but instead of shouting and screaming at the girls I discovered that I was incredibly calm and relaxed. Whatever that last vial of Mary's had contained it was working. ?Actually,? the blonde started up again, ?they probably won't all be pretty. But you'll soon find out for yourself. Now let's get started.? At this point she started to fiddle with the restraints on my left wrist whilst Kimberly did the same on the other side. With an audible click I was able to move my arms again but as I went to massage my right wrist with my left hand I saw that it wasn't a case of my arms being released from the manacles as they had been earlier. Now it was more a case that the manacles had been released from the bed and the wide silver bands were still wrapped around each arm. ?Now then Danni,? Kimberly was speaking again, ?just so we know where we all stand. Should you feel the need to speak to us you must always refer to us in a formal manner, what with us being your superiors and all. You will always refer to me as Miss Kimberly, and my friend here is Miss Emily. The lady by the door is Miss Angelina, I am sure you will become very well acquainted with her soon enough. Now where was I, oh yes. If you are responding to questions or instructions from one of us you can simplify it to a simple Miss, understood?? She didn't wait for my response but instead left me to remain staring at my still manacled wrist whilst trying to fight the drugs that were making me so docile, ?Should an older lady address you,? continued Kimberly ?then you must refer to her as Madam or Ma'am. Any failure to adhere to this simple act of decorum will earn you a demerit, should you reach ten demerits you will be given over to Miss Angelina for punishment. I believe she is rather looking forward to that, did you do something to upset her once too? Or was it her sister do you think? Oh well never mind, do you understand everything that I have said so far?? I nodded slowly, my brain had taken in everything alright, but my synapses didn't seem to be firing properly and my thought processes were far too slow. ?Obviously not,? shouted Kimberly, ?when responding to me you use the term Miss, in this case Yes Miss if you understand or No Miss if you don't. That's your first demerit already and we've only just begun. Now do you understand?? I screwed my face up in an effort to control myself, I wanted to tell this woman where she could shove her 'Yes Miss No Miss' but considering the position I was in I decided it was better to go along so I decided to just say yes. Not that it was all that easy, my brain was saying it but my mouth was still. I could see Kimberly's patience about to snap again when my mouth finally caught up and a slightly slurred ?Yes Miss? popped out. Kimberly beamed happily at her first small victory. ?Good, now we are going to release you from your bed and get you properly cleaned up. Okay?? Again, I managed to force a ?Yes Miss? out of my mouth before Kimberly carried on, ?I do hope you won't give us any trouble. Although I have a feeling that Angelina is kind of hoping that you do.? With that threat hanging in the air Kimberly and Emily set about releasing all of the restraints on the bed, although not before taking the precaution of securing my wrists together with a short piece of chain that attached to a mechanism hidden within my cuffs. Using the chain between my wrists as a sort of lead the two girls dragged me into a bathroom attached to the room in which I was being held captive, once inside my naked body was shoved, unceremoniously, into a shower cubicle and my chain was looped over a large hook attached to the ceiling. Kimberly and Emily backed out of the shower stall to safety before Emily fiddled with some knobs on the wall. All at once water jetted out, not just from nozzles in the ceiling but in the three walls of the cubicle as well. To start with the water was freezing cold, causing a sharp intake of breath and a blasphemous utterance, not to mention further shrinkage of you know who as well, no doubt. As the water warmed it was pleasurable for a brief moment, the powerful jets beginning to relax some aching muscles. But I couldn't even enjoy that for long, the pleasurable warmth becoming uncomfortably hot. My skin was soon glowing pink and beginning to sting, so Emily turned the water off. The two girls stepped forwards, both now sporting flannel mitts and clutching bottles of shower gel. Within moments I was covered in piles of white suds with a familiar floral scent. Not a single inch of my skin escaped from their attentions and they were definitely not gentle and caring. Fingers probed cracks and orifices, flannels scrubbed, the top layers of skin were rubbed away until, with a chirpy, ?ready? the water was turned on again for just a few minutes to rinse away the soap and leave my skin even pinker that it was before. Now, should you think that that was all the suffering I would face in the shower that day then you would be very wrong. As soon as the suds had gone and the water was switched off the girls returned, this time wearing bright pink rubber gloves and clutching what looked like giant toothpaste tubes, with all the labels covered up. The cream that came out of the tubes was plastered in a thick layer all over my body, only the hair on my head and around my eyes was left out. When a girl emptied one tube she simply picked up another and carried on. By the time they had finished each girl was on her third tube and I looked like some sort of ice cream sculpture. At first it wasn't too bad, the cream gently cooling my tortured skin. Kimberly positioned a timer on a shelf where I could see it and set it for fifteen minutes. ?Don't go anywhere,? she grinned, ?we'll be right back.? And the two girls, chuckling at their own, private, joke, walked out of the bathroom leaving me, quite literally, dangling. After a while my skin began to itch, I looked at the timer, eight minutes had passed. I tried humming to take my mind of the urge to scratch, but it didn't work. My skin was crawling now, I looked back to the timer, nine minutes. No, it wasn't possible, it had to be longer than that. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. What was it that I'd read in a book once? Imagine you are in a box, yes that's right, now imagine a spider?s web in the corner of the box. Focus on the web, go closer, visualise a single strand of the web, now a single atom in the strand of the web. Now become one with the atom and enter a state of bliss. Alternatively feel your skin crawl and a desperate itch getting worse. It was driving me mad, at least I must have killed some time trying to enter my meditative state. Ten minutes, only one minute, this was madness, what were they doing to me? I tried wriggling in an attempt to at least relieve one patch of skin, but all I succeeded in doing was chafing my wrists on their manacles. For what felt like an eternity I just stared at the timer and tried to ignore the itch, the timer slowly ticking around, every second stretching into the next until the itching started to blur, it wasn't an irritation now, it was starting to turn into pain. A burning pain, eating away at my flesh. twelve minutes had passed. I cried out. ?Please, it's burning me,? I shouted, ?please, help me.? Of course, nobody came and the timer ticked on. The pain focused my mind on the fireball that was my skin and tears once again flowed down my cheeks. Had my actions really been so bad that I deserved this, this torture? What was it that covered my body? Was it some sort of acid? Where they trying to scar me so that I would be ridiculed everywhere I went? I was eventually snatched out of my depressive thoughts by the ringing of the bell on the timer and, a few minutes later, the opening of the bathroom door. Without speaking Kimberly turned the shower on and washed the cream off my body. Because of the position I was in I couldn't see much, but what I could see was enough to shock me once again. All of the hair on my arms that had been covered by the cream had gone. Ignoring the pain in my wrists I twisted within my restraints, everywhere I looked it was the same. My skin was as bare and as pink as a new born baby. I was unhooked from the ceiling and helped out of the shower so that the two girls, being amazingly gentle, could pat me dry with a big fluffy towel before rubbing a cool, scented cream into my skin, ?This will help soothe the irritation,? whispered Emily, ?and it will make your skin feel great. Really soft and feminine.? She smiled at me, but there was no warmth in that smile. Only a sadistic pleasure. Chapter 5 I was back in my room and back in my restraints, once again staring at my very sorry and very strange reflection. When I had arrived in this place I was a regular looking guy, in regular guy clothes. Then the clothes were taken away, but I still looked like a regular guy. A regular guy with a regular amount of body hair. Now the hair was gone too and I didn't look regular any more. Now I know that a lot of guys shave their chests and their legs, but they're normally the sporty guys and the muscly guys. The hair goes either for streamlining or just to show off their muscular definition. Now I'm not fat, not really, but nor am I sporty or muscular so my legs and chest do not look great without their hair. In fact, my stomach looked bigger than it did last night and my legs look kind of feminine. But that's not the worst of it. All of my pubic hair had gone too, literally all of it. Now I was left staring at my bits in the mirror and they looked all wrong. You, might think that it looked juvenile down there, pre-pubescent so to speak. Indeed, in the time since this happened I have read stories where that is what they said, but that description just wasn't right. At least not in my eyes. To me, my penis simply didn't look real, it looked more like a plastic, or even a rubber, phallus. A really realistic one but just not quite realistic enough. My penis, my crown jewels, didn't look like my crown jewels any more. It was almost as if the real ones had been removed and been replaced by a very good facsimile, and just like the guy driving past a car crash I couldn't drag my eyes away. I don't know if I was getting better at judging the passing of time or if I had completely lost all sense of it but in my head I am sure that I was left staring at myself for about two hours. Every minute that passed increased the feeling that the genitalia I could see in the mirror were not mine. They were just not right, in fact I found them quite disturbing. Eventually I was brought back to my senses by the opening of the door and the friendly squeak of soft shoes crossing the floor. ?Hello there my little sweet,? came a familiar voice, ?how are you feeling now? Let me sit you up a bit and get you out of that headband.? As she was still speaking I felt the pneumatics in the bed whirr into life and start raising the head of the bed. Soon a click could be heard over the sound and my head was free to move. I turned it gently and smiled a genuine smile as I saw Mary's happy face. ?Mary,? I cried, relieved to see the only friendly face I had come across in this place. ?Or do I have to call you madam?? I just remembered the warning from Kimberley in time. ?Madam, me, heavens above no,? replied Mary, chortling. ?Madam is only for your superiors Dear, not for the likes of me.? ?But I was told that all women were my superiors.? ?And so they are Dear, but,? she paused. ?Oh, you didn't know did you. I was once like you dear. My wife, Ms Davenport, caught me in a dalliance and,? another pause, ?well, you can see what she did. But I do have to confess that I have grown to accept my lot in life. I even enjoy it some of the time. So, no dear, you don't need to call me Madame, I don't deserve it. Most people around here just call me Mary, although some of the younger girls call me Mother.? ?Mother,? I whispered, ?I like that. Do you know what they are going to do to me Mary? Can you help me?? Mary shook her head. ?No Dear, I can't help you and yes I do know what they are going to do, every last detail,? she chuckled to herself, ?in fact I probably know more about most of it than they do. But I won't be helping you escape or anything silly like that so you just forget it. I'll help you cope as best I can but that'll be all. Now, why don't we get some clothes on you. I don't have much with me but at least what I do have will make you a little bit warmer,? she looked round at her trolley, ?and then I've got a nice lunch for you. I do hope you're hungry.? Deep in the bowels of the house, hidden in her control room, a smile crosses the face of Dr Cecilia Davenport. On the screen in front of her she watches another part of her plans unfold flawlessly. Seeing a person completely broken through the manipulation of their mind has always been very satisfying, but when it is someone as deserving as Daniel Wentworth it is especially good. Possibly even better than the feeling she got when she transformed her rat of a husband into her best friend and most attentive lover. Mary was right when she said that she didn't have much with her in the way of clothing. In fact, all she had were two really long t-shirts. You know the kind that some girls wear as nighties, not that I thought of them as nighties. My mind wasn't going to think of them in that way, not at that point anyway. One of the two was plain and blue, whilst the other was peach coloured, with a picture of a cartoon puppy filling up half of the front. It wasn't a difficult choice. So here I am dressed in an oversized blue t-shirt eating a toasted ham and cheese sandwich with a side order of chips and a healthy dollop of ketchup. Whilst I was eating Mary opened a wall cupboard and revealed a television set. She manoeuvred the screen on its bracket and switched it on. Whilst I have never been a fan of daytime television it was certainly better than staring at my own reflection and so I started to relax a tiny bit for the first time since I had arrived. Mary sat on an upright chair next to the bed and chatted to me the whole time we were watching the programmes. To be honest the chat was of no interest to me at all, chatting about clothes and cooking and that sort of women's stuff. But I did my best to join in and show an interest, after all having company that wasn't trying to hurt me made a nice change in this place and there was no way on earth that I was going to upset her. We sat there all afternoon and all evening, just two people watching TV and relaxing together. As Mary appeared to have no problem with my t- shirt so, after a while, neither did I. In fact, I have to confess I completely forgot what I was wearing by the time our evening meal arrived. Now I really should explain that Mary is normally responsible for the preparation and cooking of all meals in the house. At that point I didn't actually know that I was in a house but it is easier for me to use the term from the outset. As she had been sat with me all afternoon she obviously hadn't had time to cook anything today so she made a quick trip out of my room to use the phone and ordered some pizzas for everyone. The arrival of our food was announced about half an hour later by a gentle knock on the door. Mary went and collected our food from an unseen person. All I managed to see was a flash of black taffeta and white lace. We then tucked into a pair of twelve-inch pizza's one triple cheese and one meat feast, garlic bread, fries, and deep fried onion rings on the side. Not to mention a large Coke. Without wishing to sound too greedy I must confess that Mary probably ate only a third of the food, I cleared off the rest on my own and I loved every mouthful. For a brief moment captivity didn't seem so bad. I didn't remember about the injections until Mary mentioned a top up before bed. The thought of all that fat going to my hips and bum caused me to conjure up a picture myself with one of those huge, cartoon style bubble butts and that put more than just a bit of a downer on my evening. Once I'd been given my second round of injections for the day, my bed was lowered back into a sleeping position and all of my restraining belts refastened. Strangely, Mary gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving and switching off the lights. This was the first time I had been awake in this room without the main lights being on and I was a little disconcerted to discover that the only illumination in the room was directed in such a way that my reflection in the mirror remained a visible beacon in the darkness. And thus it was that I fell asleep for, what I believed to be, my second night of captivity. Chapter 6 Clarisse was standing next to the bed, grinning when I woke up. ?Good morning Worm,? she smiled what I guessed was supposed to be a sweet and innocent smile, ?looks like you were having an interesting dream.? I looked at the mirror and to my horror saw an erection tenting out the front of my t-shirt, even in the situation that I was enduring I found myself blushing at my predicament. Clarisse just laughed. ?That isn't really the sort of thing that a lady should have to look at, now is it?? she asked. I shook my head and Clarisse continued. ?Maybe I should do something about it for you. Would you like that?? There was a part of me that wanted to say yes, the thought of this girl pleasuring me was almost too good to resist but having had just one previous meeting with this particular girl, one that I remembered anyway, I couldn't believe that she was going to do anything that would be nice for me. Clarisse must have seen the torment on my face. ?Don't worry,? she smiled, ?I was only going to do this.? With that she grabbed hold of my erect penis through the material of my t-shirt and began to gently rub. Fair to say it was all that I had hoped for and far more than I dared to think possible. Needless to say, it didn't take that long for confusion to turn to pleasure. With a highly skilled hand and a very dirty mouth, I am sure the restraints had nothing to do with it, it took Clarisse little more than five minutes to bring me off. I do have to say that it is a very strange experience watching somebody pleasure you in a mirror, but as I couldn't move my head that is exactly what I was forced to do. Luckily, I had my eyes closed when I ejaculated so I missed the stain growing on my clothes. ?Hmm,? said Clarisse in a very serious tone after the seductiveness of moments earlier. I guess I'll have to get the girls in to change that for you.? I opened my eyes and saw the stain. Clarisse continued, ?never mind, accidents happen and I've seen you in a much worse state than this. Right time to get on.? Clarisse disappeared from the mirror for a brief moment. When she returned, it was to place a covered stand over the tops of my legs and waist, blocking the whole area from sight but not touching my body in any way. Next a plain brown box was retrieved from one of the metal trolleys that all the girls use and put under the stand. Finally, she grabbed a tube of cream from the trolley and that too went under the stand. This time her hands did not come out. ?Right, now this might be a bit cold to start with but at least it won't last long.? I couldn't see Clarisse's face as she said this but I could tell from the tone that she was enjoying her task and that made me nervous. I felt the cream go on and she was right it was cold, too cold really for me to enjoy the sensation of her rubbing it in. ?Right, we just need to give that a minute to take effect and the we can get on.? ?What are you going to do to me?? I asked trying hard to sound calm despite my nervousness. ?Oh, you'll find out soon enough,? was the reply, ?I'd rather not spoil the surprise by telling you too soon. I do hope you don't mind. Now how are you feeling down below?? I paused to take stock. ?A bit tingly actually, it feels strange.? ?Okay, can you feel this?? I felt nothing and answered accordingly. ?Great, I can get on then.? With that her hands disappeared back under the stand and she started fiddling. Occasionally I would feel things brush against my legs, one time it was something cold and hard, but as for my penis I felt absolutely nothing. Clarisse worked under the stand for a good half an hour, sometimes muttering under her breath sometimes giggling. At one point, I heard the door open and a voice that I think belonged to Emily apologised for coming in before Clarisse had finished and left once again. Eventually she was finished. She took her hands out from under the stand and flexed her wrists, one of which cracked sending a shiver down my spine. I never did like that sound. ?Right,? she announced, ?all done. Would you like to take a look?? Of course, she didn't wait for an answer simply whipping away the stand as she finished the sentence. My t-shirt was pulled up above my waist, exposing my private parts. Although that's not really the right way of saying it, I suppose that exposing where my private parts should have been would be a more accurate description because I couldn't really see them. My penis was encased in a shiny metal tube that curved downwards so that my member pointed down to my feet and into the crevasse between my legs. My testicles were not visible at all, in the mirror all I could make out was some sort of leather pad beneath my penis apparently holding my balls up inside my body. ?We call this device Kali's Teeth,? Clarisse explained, ?ours is a bit better than the standard ones you can buy in the shops because it covers more. I'm sure you'll discover everything that it does at some point, if you can't work it out for yourself first.? She paused to pull the bottom of my t-shirt down, hiding the device before saying her farewells and leaving the room. The immediate impact for me was that the device had changed the look of my reflection. Whereas before there had been a lump in the material of the t-shirt proudly announcing the location of my genitals now there was nothing but a flatness and a dark stain showing where the end of my penis had been earlier. It was very disconcerting sight and did nothing to alleviate the sense of fear and foreboding that was growing in my heart. Chapter 7 I was beginning to learn some of the little quirks of my new dwelling. It would appear that you are either left completely alone for hours on end or you are inundated with a constant stream of visitors and barely a moment to yourself. There really is no middle ground. This time it was only a matter of minutes before the door opened and Kimberly and Emily entered the room with a cheerful greeting. ?Before we get you ready to face the day have you been to the loo yet this morning?? asked Emily, once again pretending to be friendly to me, these guys really watched too many cop shows with their good cop, bad cop routine. I shook my head, ?come on then.? The two girls released me from my bonds, secured my wrists together and led me into the bathroom. At the toilet we stopped and with my manacled hands I lifted the t-shirt and looked down. My penis was very definitely hanging down and disappearing between my legs so that I could barely see it. ?Errrmmm,? I began. Kimberly and Emily laughed. ?I think you might have to sit this one out,? chortled Kimberly with a malicious grin on her face. ?Yes, I'm afraid she's right,? said Emily with slightly more kindness in her voice, ?you won't be standing to pee whilst you've got that thing on.? So that was it, for the first time since I was about two years old, I sat on the toilet and started to urinate. That coupled with the presence of these two girls watching left me completely and utterly mortified. After taking care of my toilet needs my wrists were released so that I could wash myself and clean my teeth. I wasn't allowed anywhere near my privates and my second attempt to surreptitiously investigate resulted in a slap across the face from Kimberly as well as the re-fastening of the chain. By the time we returned to the room Angelina had arrived and taken up a position by the door where she stood gripping a long black baton. Her muscled arms pushing at the seams on her sleeves, her neck as wide as her very large thighs. ?Now, you've just earned yourself another demerit,? said Kimberly, ?might I recommend that you give us no more trouble. Unless of course you want to try your luck against Angelina.? The emphasis on the word ?want? was enough to tell me that I didn't. ?Right then,? chirped up Emily, trying to lift the mood. ?Time for you to get dressed. I think with that thing swinging loose,? she nodded towards my crotch, ?you'd best have some decent pants on. Don't you agree?? I nodded dumbly at first, remembering just in time to add a mumbled ?Yes Miss?. Quite sensibly I feared that the metal contraption could cause some serious chaffing if it continued moving as it was so a pair of underpants was a good idea. ?Do you have a preference of colour?? She asked walking towards a trolley in the corner. Without thinking I answered in the negative. Eventually I will learn not to do that, I hope. As Emily delved into the trolley Kimberly grabbed my arm and manoeuvred me towards the wall mounted mirror. At first I tried to resist but a single step forward by the Amazonian Angelina was enough for me to fall meekly into line. In front of the mirror Kimberly released my wrists again and pulled my t-shirt roughly over my head, managing to make me stumble and fall to one knee in the process. ?Will you two stop niggling at each other,? admonished Emily as she approached clutching a pair of pale pink pants in her hand. ?Sorry Em,? responded Kimberly, ?I couldn't help myself.? ?That's alright Kim, I know you are excited about all the good work that we're doing.? As she finished speaking she stopped and looked at me. I looked back, puzzled. It was only when Angelina started to move again that I realised I too, was expected to apologise. ?I'm sorry too,? I began and again remembered just in time to finish with, ?Miss Emily?. She beamed. ?That's alright, you can't be expected to be perfect yet. After all you do have a long way to go.? She lifted the pants up, ?now let's get these pants on.? ?But they're pink,? I responded. The smile faded in an instant. ?Yes, and I asked you if you minded what colour you wore and you said you didn't,? Emily sighed, ?well, the only other pair I've got are white. Will you wear the white pair if I get them?? ?Yes Miss,? I answered, relieved at my narrow escape, both with the pink pants and the absent Miss moments earlier. ?Do you promise?? She insisted, ?no whinging, you will wear the white ones?? ?I promise Miss.? One day I really will learn to think before I speak, I promise. Emily returned with a pair of white girl?s panties, I couldn't pretend these were pants, they had a lace waist band and a little blue flower design all over the front. But what could I do. Apart from sweet Mother Mary, Emily was the only person to show me any kindness, even if it was faked, and I really didn't want to upset her. I also sensed that both Kimberly and Angelina were hoping that I would complain so that they could intervene. Being the only real option open to me I stepped into the panties and allowed Emily to pull them up. The higher up my legs they went the hotter my face got, almost as if the panties were some sort of thermostat control. My poor little penis, thanks to its cage and the position in which it was being held, settled naturally into the gusset of the panties and was pulled up tight to my body. Instead of a masculine bulge I had a very flat, feminine look. Things were looking very bad, very quickly. ?Right I have t-shirts or vest tops, what do you prefer?? Asked Emily carrying on as if she hadn't seen the look on my face. ?I think a t-shirt will be safer. Please Miss? I responded, and learning my lesson, albeit briefly, I added ?can I see them and choose one?? ?But of course,? responded Kimberly, ?it's very important to us that you are able to choose your own clothes. Isn't it Em?? The words may have been nice but the tone was anything but. Not that Emily appeared to notice as she gave a much more sincere sounding ?of course it is.? She went back to the trolley and produced three t-shirts. All of them were very similar in style, kind of androgynous with a round neck and a single colour. One pink, one red and one yellow. ?Can I have the red one please Miss?? I asked, making an effort to keep Emily on my side. It appeared to work as the full beaming smile returned to her face. She gave Kimberly the t- shirt and she helped me to pull it on before letting me check my reflection in the mirror. It was a little bit tighter than I would normally wear but I could probably wear it outside without anyone commenting. It wasn't long enough, however, to cover my panties and the flat front they displayed. ?Bottom half now,? smiled Emily, ?afraid I've only got a choice of two items, both plain white. So, what would you prefer, skirt or shorts?? Seriously, they want me to wear a skirt, well that was never going to happen. No matter how bad the shorts were they could never be as bad as a skirt. So I chose the shorts, and to be fair they weren't that bad at all. In fact, in the 70's they may even have been acceptable as menswear, plain white, jersey material with a drawstring around the top tied in a bow. All in all, my reflection was not too bad and the shorts were big enough to conceal my genital embarrassment. ?Right Hun,? smiled Emily, ?you get yourself back into bed and we'll send Mary in with some breakfast for you.? Again, I sensed Angelina tense up in the corner waiting for me to argue and, as I wasn't that desperate yet I decided on discretion quickly climbing back onto the bed. Kimberly and Emily strapped me down, Kimberly cinching the straps ever so slightly too tight but I didn't complain, she wouldn't beat me with cheap stunts like that. Finally, the two girls and their Amazonian guard left the room and I waited for Mary to arrive. What did I tell you, once again I was only alone for a few minutes before the door opened and Mary appeared rattling her trolley as she came. ?Breakfast time Dear, oh did those girls strap your head down again. Really, I don't know why they feel the need to do that. Do you know I sometimes think that those two have a real evil streak in them? Oh well never mind love I'm here now. We'll soon get you sat up a bit and then I've got some breakfast for you. I hope you're hungry.? I just couldn't help but smile at Mary's bustling and chatting, not to mention the smell of breakfast. Breakfast consisted of a rack full of thick toast, a pat of proper butter, three little bowls with jams in them and a pot of coffee wilfully aided by a jug of cream. As I ate Mary had herself a cup of coffee to keep me company, I noted that she passed on the cream. I ate, we both drank, we chatted. If it wasn't for the weight nagging away at my groin I could almost have forgotten that I was a prisoner. Of course, my tranquillity didn't last. Breakfast was soon finished and the injections came out. As she had the previous morning Mary kindly reminded me what each of the injections was. Only this time one was missing. ?No relaxant today?? I asked, the testosterone blocker, hormones and weird fat controller had all gone in, the cream had been rubbed into my chest but the last injection didn't appear. ?No dear, Madam wants you firing on all cylinders tod