. to keep us . . . oh dear God, please!" "Ladies," said Gottfried with a sigh, "if it eases the sting of capture,you can call yourselves my wives, add...ess me as husband,--I don't mind. Butunderstand, pretty brides: this and this alone is the bed I've made for you,one you won't be getting up from. You've had a good start on your kicking andcrying; but you need to take it further. It's bitter comfort, but comfort nonethelesswhen a fay's time is near." "N-near?" said Echidna. "Yes" said Gottfried.. Have you any idea how hard it it to bit one’s lip through gritted teeth? “Would Sir like anything else?” “No, but I bet you do!” He answered, somehow convincing himself... I sighed. “Yes Sir, of course” He made no reply, but looked down at his now wilting, some what pathetic member. “Well, you’ll have to wait for it then” he frowned. “How much?” “For you... two hundred” I answered. Twice my normal charge. Greasy boy lapped it up. With a wink he fished the money out of his discarded trousers. ‘But aren’t all artists mad?’ she asked of no one, pacing the floor and smoking feverishly on her cigarette. ‘Van Gogh cut off his ear, Latrec indulged in absinthe, Chatterton and Plath killed themselves how many other artists, writers, poets and musicians had gone mad or died? Was it the curse of the creative thought process that tormented them, the pursuit of artistic integrity or the deep passionate yearning to show the beauty only they could see? The line from an Eliot poem came to mind…I. He slid one hand down flat over her stomach to part her swollen lips. Her skin was so pale that her pussy was cherry red and flushed with excitement. I could see her wetness coating his fingers as he rubbed them over her clit, then slowly dragged them up and down her slit. Beth’s eyes hooded as he repeated the action again and again. Her breathing came a little short and I found mine matching hers, my thighs pressed tight together as I shifted in my seat. Suddenly she went rigid, her eyes.