At what would have been eleven or midnight, she fell into a fitful sleep, curled on the cold floor of her cage. She dreamed, unfortunately enough, of ...he ****. She did not, of course, remember Vorkarm’s violation of her body, but her imagination, fuelled by the continuing pain in her vagina, filled in the blanks. She dreamt that she was limp, paralysed but not u*********s, like a tiny rag doll in Vorkarm’s massive arms. He threw her over his shoulder and scrambled down the ladder with. ‘What’s in them,’ Steve asked. His shiner was still visible, but his lip was back to normal size. ‘Pot,’ Jack said. ‘Bullshit,’ Rob said. ‘Where the fuck would you get pot?’ Jack smiled. ‘I have my ways.’ Rob smirked and gave a dismissive chuckle. ‘Don’t think that I believe you for one second that these brownies actually have pot in them.’ Jack shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But, I’ll tell you one thing. Whether these brownies have pot in them, or not, they’re delicious and I’m gonna eat at least. More

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