A broken man to many, strong to others but what really mattered was the way he felt inside. A soul that appeared to himself like the battle fields of...World War I. Filled with foxholes, trenches and the blasts of bombs in the no man’s land of his heart. The air inside resonating sounds of suffering that can be described as the sounds of those that are trapped in a permanent bane of Hell, paying for their sins of life. The ground littered with words of hate, the abuse of life. He did not feel. But right now, I had more important tasks at hand. I had to shed thishorrible underwear.I began by unbuttoning the blouse. The slippery material peeled away asthe buttons came undone, revealing a heavy-duty black satin bustierunderneath with tight, unyielding, metal stays that were cold to thetouch despite having been wrapped around my body for the last half hour.I scanned the bustier, looking between the cups and down the front forsome kind of fastener. Nothing. Round the sides? Nothing.. More

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