Her eyebrows went up. “Oh! Did he do it to you?” “What?” I knew I was blushing bright red. “Oooh! Now I get it–he said you were his woman!...‘Taker brought you here to *screw* you! He screwed you in mine and Aitch’s bed up there!” Stephanie’s nose wrinkled, but her eyes gained an avid, prurient inquisitiveness. “That is SO gross! I didn’t think he *ever* got laid! What’s he like in the sack–I bet his dick’s just monster, right? Did he do it to you up the–?” “None of your business!” I was. My God, I thought, this is Okehampton, not Baghdad. In the alley the two women bound my wrists tightly and force-marched me out of the town, along a network of country lanes and out into the fields towards deepest Dartmoor. I didn't mind the knotted wrists so much – with Clara that used to be a rather ordinary Friday night – but I was wearing sandals and my feet were soon bruised and blistered. After about an hour we stopped and they untied me so that I could catch my breath and have a drink. I. More

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