The gag whispererDr. Sarah Anderson, (eminent archaeologist, part-time History professor and frequent damsel in distress) had finally given up trying to make herself comfortable in favour of simply relieving her boredom. She found that if she concentrated hard enough she could just about forget that her wrists were currently manacled to the wall above her head and that her toes were maintaining only tenuous contact with the hard, stone floor.
Sadly this (Herculean) display of mindfullness was unable to entirely shut out the noise of the dripping water, nor what sounded like the furtive sound of a small family of rats nesting in the straw at her feet.
Sitting at the opposite end of the prison cell, perched on a milking stool was a young, well built female guard in full dress uniform, the ill-fitting tunic straining under the pressure of her more than ample frame.
“Excuse me, guard,..” Sarah began with a voice as rich as a double brandy with cream.
“Yes?” She said, not bothering t
Outward bound (and gagged)After a long journey through heavy marshland Dr. Sarah Anderson felt herself being lashed to a heavy post.
All at once the blindfold was lifted from her eyes.
Blinking in the fading light, she gazed around her.
Her immediate prospects proved somewhat less than promising.
She was imprisoned inside a make-shift stockade, a rough wooden fence enclosing an area of muddy ground. Coarse ropes tethered her to a heavy wooden steak placed directly in the centre of the village between a small assortment of reed huts.
Apparently her capture had created quite the social buzz among the local populace as she was greeted by a large assortment of bare chested warriors, each armed to the teeth, their faces painted up to look like various demons.
Well, 'warriors' was a pejorative term, in reality, several of the townspeople looked like they could do with a good meal.
For a moment Sarah wondered if she hadn't in fact been kidnapped by a bunch of unemployed actors. Certainly dressed as she was in her jodh
“And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day...”
Imogen looked at her three friends and smiled – this was going to be a very special night, as they were headed to a works party where she knew the man of her dreams would be waiting for her. She just knew it.
She had even bought a new dress for the occasion – black velvet, the skirt coming half way down her thighs, round neck and long sleeves, complimented by sheer black hose and a pair of three inch heel pumps. Her blonde hair flowed down her back as she poured herself another drink.
Her sister Jocasta was also wearing a black dress, although in her case it was a black pinafore dress with a leather belt round her waist, and underneath a long sleeved black top with a red floral print on it. The chain round her neck had a silver heart locket and ring hanging from it.
Avena had long dark hair, like Jocasta, but was wearing a dark pink smock dress with dark tights and heels. Sayle, her ot