“Mind you, that would explain Mr Floppy. Do you like my perfume?” she added, for a change of direction.“Very nice,” I said. “But I'd rather ...mell you.”“What? Perfume costs a bomb and that's what it's for, to make us smell good.”“I would rather smell your skin,” I reiterated popping my nose between her breasts and into an armpit. “It's great, and you're obviously very careful about these things. But I'd rather smell you than Issey Miyake's idea of what you should be like. Or Mum's no-white-marks. He spasmed and howled incoherently, as it felt like spikes were driven into him. Mother’s Cubs, he couldn’t bear it! But he had to. He had no choice. But he did have a chance. He was still alive, which meant that they hadn’t broken him yet, they hadn’t obtained the information they wanted. He could hold out. He could hold out as long as necessary. There was probably a ship on its way here now to rescue him. Any hour now, he’d be beamed away- ‘You’ve resisted quite well, Captain,’ the Terran. More

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