The hood cast a shadow over it’s face, but I didn’t need to see it to know who this was. Death was standing in front of me, skeletal hands sheathe... by gloves and holding a double-edged sword. Nothing of Death’s body was visible as his robe extended past his feet. Death had been haunting me for the past month. Passing through rooms I was in, speaking to me from shadows and taking over my dreams, twisting them into nightmares. It had gone on long enough. It was now going to end. I cared not of. Three women, dressed only in swimsuits, attended to her; two vigorously scrubbed her with sponges and bars of floral-scented soap, as the third washed her hair, massaging the shampoo into her scalp. Such pampering might have been enjoyable, had she not been brought here against her will. What were they planning to do with her? Did she even dare imagine?Her recollections were fuzzy on how she got here; or for that matter, where "here" was. She remembered being at an outdoor music festival, going. The slender chain was sleek, intricately constructed to look almost like it was one continuous molten piece of gold. Hanging at the end, resting on her chest was a narrow vertical gold rectangle about an inch long. Inside the rectangle five hieroglyphs were embossed by hand. According to the birthday card that came with it, they were Egyptian hieroglyphic symbols spelling her name, Keira.She adored it. It was beautifully made, simple but elegant and, truth be told, much nicer than the gold. Then it happened once more, only the hand kind of rubbed my cock. Again, Heather was looking somewhere else. She didn’t say a word and she didn’t look at me.There were so many things I didn’t know then, one of them being how much pleasure the touch of another could bring. All I could think about was rub and stroke and come, really. My idea of foreplay, if I had any idea at all, was to rub on someone else, not for her pleasure but for mine. I suppose I very dimly understood that if she was.