Since she had given him no reason to fear her, Byron waited patiently for the woman to get close enough, so that he could see her. The woman stopped i... front of him. “Ayla,” she said; voice rusty from lack of use. “You can understand me?” he said, incrediously. “Yes. We chose not to speak. The bright ones consider us mad and leave us alone,” Ayla replied. “Bright ones? There are more?” Byron gaped. “Oh yes! A lot more. The bright ones live in the bright city. They enslave others to do their. I often wondered if the nylon was that of a pair of tights or that of stockings held up with suspenders. Stockings and suspenders were for me at the age of 18 a thing of pure fantisy, no girls my age ever wore them and I often fantasised what it would be like if Vicky came into my office sat on the desk with her skirt riding up to expose her legs and reveal that she was indeed wearing the sexiest garmnets made to man.One particular morning I hade cause to go into recetion where Vicky was sat. More

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