’If he had not said that, I would have asked him myself.Tom drew a line of lotion from my heel to the middle of the buttock, then began to rub it as...thoroughly as before, beginning at the calf. He slowly moved to my thigh were there was a lot more skin to cover, you could say many compliments about my thighs, but not that they were slender. Tom maintained his meticulousness, he rubbed the sides of my thighs as well using both his hands. There was still nothing inappropriate about his touch, but. The platform I'm lying on seems to be made of the same rock as the walls, hard and lumpy, digging into my back.Rusted iron shackles encircle my wrists and ankles, pinned into the volcanic rock with nails as thick as my forearm. I yank at them, jerking my feet up and flinging my arms down, praying that one of the nails will break loose. I grimace at the effort, baring my teeth and hissing as the movement causes my dry lips to split. I lick at the blood and find temporary relief as it wets my. Let me just sit there a bitHe looked round . I stay just up there he said pointing at a nearby house.. I mean you can cone in and grab a drink he continued I wanted to say no at first but then I really could use a drinkWe were in the house in no timeHe went to the kitchen and got me a glass of juiceNice house I said amidst gulping the drinkHe said thank you and sat beside me turning on the TVI looked at the time and sat back . it wasn't too late to be out and again I was so tired Why were you. Spicy, too...almost tingly." "Do you like it?" she asks, still watching him. "Oh, sure..." he responds, trying to ignore the hint of burnt hair, "it's great." As lunch goes on she becomes less apprehensive, more confident - relieved, likely, that he enjoyed her sandwich enough to finish it. She titters at his jokes, bats her long eyelashes at him as she finishes her half-sandwich but leaves most of her chips untouched. "You didn't finish your plate," he quips as he lay his head back again to.