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It had arms but they were somehow pinioned to its sides. Black and shiny legs that seemed incapable of parting. * Whilst Ally was in the surgery, a few miles due east, in a quiet close adjacent to one of London's smaller parks, a tall woman with long brown and braided hair was lying on a bed in a dimly lit bedroom. "Bill, come here and look at this…" He was still watching the gleaming creature that seemed only an inch or so shorter than himself. He recoiled but he felt something clawing at him from the side and in self-defence he threw out a hand. Sheila's gasp of astonishment was enough to make him turn round again. " He looked at her quizzically for a moment and then it dawned on him. All the times she had been blindfolded and her ears plugged. And all the time she was whistling something, fairly tunelessly, through her teeth. " He slapped them into her hand as if giving them to a surgeon. Trying to pry it open with the screwdriver had proved a disaster and had left him with a cut hand and her with a torn top. She can't stay in there forever and we're just making things worse! I always hear YOU.." He winced at the still quite painful memory of the time he had mummified her, at her own request and, with great care and attention, proceeded to blindfold her, gag her, plug her ears and place tubes in her nostrils to restrict her breathing only to have her hear every word he had said to her whilst apparently oblivious to everything. "Mmm, but that's different, you've never been looked in a box with no obvious way of getting out." She looked at him sharply. Something vaguely wistful that suggested that it would, somehow, be a good idea, but before she could say anything he had moved back to the couch, hefted up the circular saw and placed it on the nearest corner of the box that had become their nemesis. You can't protect me all your bloody life, now let go! It was cold and slimy, the way you would expect a snake to feel and it was still moving back and then finally it dawned on him. The bedroom door swung open flooding the room with light. " Very slowly he took her hands by the wrist and lowered them until they were at her sides. Much grimmer than she could ever recall seeing before. " To call her reply snotty would have been an understatement. " She realised what he was doing as he was talking. Sheila, who, he was convinced, was somehow related to the mule family, was not prepared to play ball. He personally thought that "great big Rottweiller" would have been a more adequate description but as he watched her now he couldn't put the image of a small Jack Russell worrying at a bone out of his mind. The top was smooth and it was nailed in place, the nails fitting into bevels like screws and impervious to pliers. " He reached out and touched it as well and his spine juddered. When some senses are taken away others tend to be heightened and although the noise at the bedroom door would have gone unnoticed by most people, the woman on the bed heard it clearly and strained, just a little, at the chains that held her in place. Sheila was in attack mode, but attack breeds defence. Or rather, it holds the inflatable hood that was covering her face." "You're so clever! She took a piece of cotton wool and dabbed delicately at the small puncture and then she moved a little closer and a little closer still and then she lowered her head and bit, very gently, into Ally's neck. " He felt like a small child who had just smashed something precious. I touched her head and…." Her hands were on her hips now and her legs were slightly apart. Something was beginning to rise from out of its padded confines. Sheila was standing next to him, her hand still in his, unable to take her eyes from the glistening creature that was emerging, like a monstrous butterfly, from its cocoon. She wore nothing else apart from a large, pink and obviously wet ball gag, the largest size available, held in her mouth by a thick black leather strap that was buckled tightly, she might say too tightly, if indeed she could speak at all, at the back of her head.

Many people contended that women couldn't whistle, but this one could and it was only after several minutes that he realised what she was whistling. "Are you actually going to help or do you intend to stand there like a great gormless Pratt for the rest of the morning? I didn't want to get in your way." Which was true, but he made a mental note of the insult in his own personal demerit book. He tried to tell her that a plaster would have been fine but the only answer he got was,"Fuck off, shut up and let me wrap this round your hand! " She looked down at her torn top and his bandaged hand. Before switching on he took a final look at her, but she was communing once more with the box's inhabitant. " Reluctantly he eased his grip on her and she shouldered herself forward and to the edge of the black box. The box was still hissing and it seemed to have a lining. A back shiny lining with a strong, all pervading smell. The figure in the doorway appeared to be studying her captive, her head posed thoughtfully to one side. Not as tall as the one on the bed but large in other ways . Her large and not particularly saggy breasts were just covered by a towel that was laughably too small for her, showing as it did just the tiniest wisps of blonde pubic hair above her legs. It's like a glass fusey sort of thing but it looks like it's got some sort of liquid in it. Mystified she looked into his eyes hoping to find an answer. "Bill I don't know what's the matter with you all of a sudden but I ain't budging until you tell me what's wrong." Another sigh "Celine was from Northern Ireland. She didn't talk about it very much but when she did, she'd talk about the things that used to go on, like kneecapping and punishment beatings and how they'd learned to check everything to make sure it wasn't booby trapped and how one of the ways they did that was to learn how to recognise mercury switches." Sheila looked at him blankly.

Small pert breasts and nipples that were plainly visible and obviously erect. Perhaps spread-eagled would better describe her situation.

The torso was slim and shapely and recognisably feminine. Perhaps lying was not the most accurate description of her current position.

The strong but somehow comforting smell of rubber seemed to permeate the entire room. Sheila waved a hand in front of her face to clear smoke away and then she stopped as if frozen to the spot, her voice no more than a whisper. Sheila was no longer visible in the smoke and, suddenly panicked, he called her name and started forward only to bump into something in what was now a whiteout. He was working at a small thin collar around her neck. As he did so the hood loosened and rode up to reveal the features beneath.

Studying the creature from every angle while he watched for signs of movement, or anything which might mean danger, but the creature seemed thankfully inert at the moment. "Come here." He said quietly, noticing that Bandy's head seemed to have stopped deflating, "It's all right I haven't killed her! Bandy still stood in front of them seemingly unruffled by the deflation of her head. " It was one of those remarks that didn't necessarily sound sarcastic, but which required him to turn round and study Sheila's face just to make sure.

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