It was good to see them again. The Trade Minister had Cora Argyll in tow, literally. Cora was hardly recognisable. Wearing a long, full skirt but nake... from the waist up, her entire torso, arms, face and shaven head were covered with elaborate tattoos. The Trade Minister was leading her by a chain that ran to a ring set in the septum of her nose. It was only as she came alongside that I saw that the piercing had itself been set with a silver grommet to prevent the ring causing damage. I asked. I was the one who had drawn her out of her inner torment, albeit with Marcy’s encouragment, and now I was in danger of losing her to some old bastard who knew nothing about what she had gone through, and just wanted to get his hands on her tits. So to say that I was delirious with joy when none of her relationships lasted would be putting it mildly. Then for her to consent to having sex with me was simply the metaphorical placing of the cherry on top. We discussed how we were going to carry. More

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