Her voice was unmistakeable: clear and precise, economic in phrasing, and sweet in tone, if a shade dark. Over the course of an hour she played two tr...cks: one from The Necks, and a soundscape of her own making. It was some of the weirdest construction of sounds he’d ever heard. He could barely keep listening for its intensity. It was layered sound ‘parcels’ which were made from spliced fragments of birdsong that were being used as musical notes and then woven into elaborate rhythmic. This must be Mysteria Valley, he thought. It was a place of Death. The scent of decay hung in the air like a billowing cloud that followed his every step. Sending bile into his throat; he tried not to gag on the atrocious odor. He gave a silent prayer that Devon was strong enough to keep his energy field around him, and never let his guard down. As each step became familiar to him, it became more important for him to find the Dungeon. As he carefully stumbled through the woods, he glimpsed. Julie now calmly picked up the newspaper as her husband's hands began to smooth along behind both her resilient white buttocks, patting and caressing them, even as his finger teased hotly around the bearded mouth up between her thighs, and then slid wetly up into her slippery open pussy.Julie groaned aloud while her husband's thick fingers lingered lovingly, expertly touching, investigating sliding back and forth in the warmly seeping liquids that were exuded by the tender vagina that nestled. "You mustn't worry. So... he has to do a little time; it won't hurt him, eh? He gambled for big stakes and lost. He's lucky he's got the syndicate behind him... otherwise, he could end up with twenty years." Then, he would take her hands inside his own little fat ones and hold them possessively. "But don't you worry about a thing, Cheri. I'll see that you're taken care of. You'll come to live with Uncle Gaston, eh? One big happy family..." He'd wink then and the blood would chill in her.