His coverall went limp, peeling off as air puffed in around him, and he stowed it in a locker just inside the corridor. Brushing the wrinkles from his...uniform tunic, he floated along the corridor to the engine room.This level housed the jump engines, the enigmatic machines which would hurtle them past, not through, the light years. They weren't much to look at, these triumphs of engineering and abstruse theory. Blank faced shapes of solid metal, non living constructs. Opened up, they wouldn't. Handcuffs on.Collar on.Olga was led down a dark and nasty smelling hallway. Her collar was attached to a leash in the hand of the female prison guard with an unusually large and protruding ass. Whenever an officer passed them, she was jerked to her knees and instructed to keep her head down. At the end of the corridor, there was a bench outside an unmarked office door. Standing next to the bench, a young girl faced the wall. The sounds of her continuous sobbing and pain riddled groans and. A repeat of 1988 all over again. Just as happened (or more appropriately didn’t happen) with the two women in 1988 reared it’s ugly head again – absolutely nothing! Once again, Erik couldn’t get a hard on, not even a twinge. He said she worked very hard for a long time to help Erik get an erection. She even sucked his limp cock. Finally she realized it was a hopeless situation, she got dressed and left. That was the end of their relationship. No more tennis. No more anything. 1997-2011: I met. ”Will snorted. “I don’t think he has a very clear understanding of our relationship.”“I don’t think we have a very clear understanding of our relationship,” Jack countered. “Good point,” Will said wryly. “I’m going to have to tell him something. Have anything you can give me?” Jack asked. “We aren’t taking the Kestrel through. That’s what all the smallboats are for,” Will said. “That was pretty much everyone’s guess. Nice to hear it confirmed,” Jack said. “It gives him nothing, but makes it.