I locked the door to my room, left my flat and headed towards the basement. The basement housed a series of washing machines and tumble driers to acco...modate the plethora of untidy students situated above. It was a Friday night, and I passed several flats on my way down stairs that sounded like they were having parties. This was good. The halls were filled with music and the aroma of alcohol, everyone was busy having a good time and no one was thinking about doing their laundry. A million. “She’s going to pop!” The Yank said finally noticing what his experience college had already surmised. The hooded director nodded back silently.Was it the pain? Was it the surge of energy in to every fibre of her body? Or was the humiliation so black and alien that was doing it to her? She didn’t know or care her body was obeying its own rules now. “You dirty bitch,” the Yank added in delight taking command of the dial. “Yes let’s see it miss English prim. Fucking coming while you’re wired up. More

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