Brett returned pushing a small cot on wheels. It resembled a stretcher, of the kind you might find in a public clinic, in one of our inner cities. Its...surface was lightly padded and it had, as its only modification, at the head and foot, leather wrist and ankle restraints. Between Brett, Olga and Jane, they lifted the inert and barely conscious girl on to the cot. Brett pulled out a white bottle from the cabinet that was under the cot and poured some of the liquid on Lynette's lacerated. “Anything else I can get for you Mr Kellerman, sir?” Steve placed the drinks on the table and awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waited for an answer. “No thank you, Steve. That’s all for now,” Mr Kellerman waited until the barman had made his way back to the bar before leaning over Cynthia’s shoulder; his breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck as he took in her scent. He spoke softly as the tip of one finger traced the sharp jutting line of her collarbone, “I’ve been watching you,. More

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