The hot damp passage moved on to the skin of her neck and into her tunic.‘She is taking a piss over me,’ said Sharn’s mind in disbelief. The war... stream continued the force of it strong against the back of her head. Warm trails of piss were flowing down her back soaking her tunic before reaching her waist where it ran around her skin and dripped to the earth.Sharn lay quite still whilst the warrior woman continued her relief, too terrified to move. Sharn could hear the soft hiss the woman’s pee. She wanted to move, to flinch, to escape, and didn’t want to. Like with the carpenter, putting her wrists and head into the stocks. She felt the lassitude stealing into her limbs, a heat in her skin. She looked down. What was this?Reaching under the table he pulled out a drawer. “I bought this bench on vacation last year, picked up many of the tools at the same time. Nice stuff, though I don’t do much woodwork any more.” He pulled out a sort of L-shaped iron. “This is called a valet in French,. More

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