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suspender belt and latex stockings, his limp organ dangling apologetically between his thighs. Lianne, the shapeless rubber helmet still in her hands, turned back from the dressing table and shrugged.
    â€˜I thought you’d already tried it out for yourself,’ she said. ‘You had an entire day’s session with Marlon a couple of weeks back, didn’t you?’
    â€˜Well, yes, but that was just Marlon measuring responses, while I watched a load of our old video footage. I haven’t tried the real thing as yet.’
    â€˜Then you’re in for a very interesting experience,’ Lianne assured him. ‘I was totally gobsmacked, I can tell you. To be honest, it’s quite spooky at first. I mean, you know it’s not real, but there’s no way you can tell that. It really, really is like being there.
    â€˜The spookiest bit of all was when he tried one scene with Ellen and me together, rather than have one of his library characters doing the bit. We were able to talk to each other and act together exactly as we would do in the real world. We even discussed how crazy it all was, just as if we were in the same room together in the normal way of things. God knows how Marlon does it, but it really does work.’
    â€˜It’s all a bit sci-fi if you ask me,’ Paul said. ‘But then I suppose that’s the world we live in nowadays. Things are happening at a faster and faster rate. Before long humans will be bloody redundant, and I find that more than a little bit worrying.’
    Swaying seductively on her high heels, Lianne closed in on him, her fingers encircling his flaccid penis. She felt his back stiffen at the intimate contact and could not suppress a small giggle.
    â€˜As long as we don’t let this little beauty get redundant,’ she cooed, ‘I don’t care about the rest. And don’t you think it’s about time you got your uniform on, Pauline?’ she added, trying to inject a note of sternness into her voice. ‘I’ve been expecting a decent maid service for the past half hour, and all you can do is chatter away like a silly schoolgirl!’
    Â 
    The room was three floors down from the bedroom in which Clarissa had first awoken, but the problem of navigating the stairs in the awful boots was overcome by Christina picking her up under one arm, as easily as if she had really been a doll, and carrying her down bodily.
    If Clarissa’s return to consciousness had been traumatic, at least, she thought, she had been spared the initial shock of coming round in this hell hole. The bedroom upstairs had retained an air of normality, even if the costumed puppet that had confronted her in the mirror had not.
    The cellar room had been designed for one purpose and one purpose only, to convey an air of menace, evil and sheer terror. The chamber was a pastiche of every horror film, every historical engraving and every nightmare Clarissa could remember. The walls and ceiling were black, bare stone blocks, alleviated only by the various wooden racks, from which hung collections of leather and metal devices whose purpose she could only guess at, and prayed fervently she would never have to find out.
    Stumbling awkwardly in the fearsome heels, her back arched cruelly, Clarissa felt as though she was completely stuffed by the two dildos, every shambling step emphasising their invasive presence, and she sobbed with shame as Christina thrust her into the centre of the room.
    â€˜Now then, Ginger,’ the big woman grinned, backing her captive against an upright post that ran from floor to ceiling, ‘let’s add a few more touches to your outfit. I do so like my slaves to look really submissive, and you don’t quite look submissive enough yet.’
    Clarissa stared at her, eyes wide with terror. ‘What are you going to do with me now?’ she wailed, as Christina began tethering her to the post, threading a strong cord through a ring at