Everything went past me like I was traveling on a slow moving river. I heard bits of oriental sounding music. Indefinable sensations filled my body an... my soul. Am I still dreaming? Is someone touching me now? I opened my eyes, there was the faintest light coming from the edge of the shutters — just enough to make out a silhouette of my lover beside me. I could feel his fingertips barely skimming the surface of my skin. How I love that. I shifted slightly and stretched. He went up and down my. We do this unintentionally -- whether as a defensive mechanism or the result of the layering of visions of the past, one on top of another, until the distant past is obscured. For Rebecca her fascination with the cross and with the practice of crucifixion seemed in retrospect to have been acquired at an early age. Now as a single woman in her early thirties, she could not recall a time when crucifixion did not loom large in her emotional life. Even as a c***d of four, if her recollections are. More

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