Offsetting her anxiety somewhat was sensing that she hadn’t been done, or even touched. The flashing red and blue lights illuminating the bedroom window--Gunther hadn’t cared that cops were about to raid the party, detaining underage drinkers or anyone caught doing dope--behooved her to get the hell dressed and away from the house just as fast as she could.Retrieving her panties and jeans from the floor, she struggled into them while trying to remain erect. Her sneakers sat by the bedroom door, which was locked. Gunther had locked her in, then. Muddle-headedly grateful, she yanked out the swivel chair, sat down and donned her Chuck’s. Wait a minute ... were these even hers?Music pounded downstairs, vibrating everything she touched. Struggling erect, she stumbled back to the bedroom door and fumbled it open. The higher decibel level in the hallway almost made her close it again. She was nauseous. Holding her head, she moaned and leaned against the door jamb, fighting not to retch. She could not stand, and to make her sit on her raw ass would be unnecessarily cruel. On her knees, Lila drank the fluids she was offered; the water and sugar that would, if she was unfortunate enough, keep her alive until the evening. She wished she was able to refuse them, to accelerate the end, but her thirst would not be denied and, despite her better judgment, she drank deeply.After about an hour, Manu and Aisha helped her to her feet. Still unable to stand on her own, much less walk to the cross, they had to carry her to the wooden X. Her weak moans of pain, when her back touched the rough wood were heart rending to Manu and Aisha; the rest of the spectators however did not hear them.They fastened her wrists to the cross beams and let her body hang, limp, until her ankles were duly attached to the cross. Her head, fallen on her chest, partially hid her nose ring, but her breasts, although inflamed and swollen, still stood proudly on her heaving chest, the heavy rings, hanging.
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