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She rolled over, opened her bedside drawer and fumbled inside for her vibrator but, for all that had never failed her in the past, the comparison with the dream was too strong and the cold, inanimate plastic compared poorly with the organic strength of... of... of what? She remembered the vine as it had coiled its way around her calves and then her thighs but, what had penetrated her had been no twig. The vibrator failed in neither size nor shape, it had both those in good measure, but it wasn't alive, pulsing, throbbing, thrusting.... her hand worked furiously as the memories came flooding back. What she would give to feel that again. Just one taste, just one little taste....Her hand, like the vibrator, couldn't cut the mustard and, frustrated beyond belief, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Her eyes had got used to the gloom and, as she looked about her, the mirror caught her eye. She went over and stood in front of it, reaching out with her hand to take hold of the. I did not spill one drop of his precious golden- nectar. When completely emptied, Bill grabbed my hair and pulled me up to my feet. He pulled me toward a nearby tree and pressed my face against it, “Don’t move,” he commanded. He took my hands, and wrapped them around the trunk of the tree, fastening the steel cuffs I was wearing together with a lock. My thigh bands were then attached to the tree, with a long cord that went through the “D” rings on them, and then around the tree trunk as well. I was not going anywhere! Next, he took a blue rubber ball gag out of the saddle bags on the bike and stuck it into my mouth, fastening it with the leather strap and buckle attached to it. Turning my head as much as I could, I saw Bill take a large knife out of his belt and cut a thin branch, about 3- feet long. He carefully de-leafed the branch leaving only a thin, supple shaft. Without saying a word, he raised the shaft to his shoulder and let it fly towards my shoulders. WHACK!!!... The snap.
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