This still allowed the chunk of removed meat to bleed out.John placed the filet on a small scale. The scale communicated the reading to Alice’s file. John turned to Marie “Bob filled me in on his predicament. It is nice of you to help him out. I will only do a basic inspection and verification on you. I told Bob that as long as he doesn’t have to harvest anything, this would be sufficient. He knows the drill if he has to harvest. He can do the timing and measurements himself.”John then placed the hood on Marie. Her world went dark and even though she could hear John as he moved around, she could not move. She panicked at first, but after a few minutes that familiar tingling started deep in her core. She and Ryan had played bondage games in the past. Their bedroom games had always turned her into jelly as soon as the first cuff or rope touched her skin. This was just the ultimate bondage game. She would have jumped if she could when john began kneading her breasts. She could hear him. "I want to cry. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Oh, honey... You've already HAD ten thousand tomorrows."She's right. I KNOW she's right. It doesn't make it suck any less. I'vebeen tasked as The Messenger.I pause, nod slightly, and turn.This place is my personal heaven. It's perfect. A little valley, a fewacres of crops, a little cabin on a lake. Hills climbing up just beyondthe fields, and forests crisscrossed with footpaths. Perfect. I climb oneof those hills, and follow one of those footpaths. I CAN flit about on mygossamer wings, but I prefer to walk barefoot on the rich soil, to touchthis sacred earth. And, honestly, to postpone. I'm trying to work up mycourage.Up on the hill, along a footpath is a small stone building, like amausoleum. In front of that stone building is an old man, like an Indianmystic. India Indian, not Native American. He's wearing the little Gandhiglasses, sitting cross legged on the ground. His name is 'Deep'. I thinkthat's hilarious. He is the keeper of my.
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