Within seconds, the stalker had passed out from sexual over-exertion. ‘Finally got you, you creepy bastard,’ said the guard. He looked up at Emma....‘You should cover yourself up, love. Thought you were Miss Maitland. This pervert’s been stalking her for a month.’ ‘Oh my,’ gasped Emma, secretly relieved that it wasn’t she that was in trouble. The stalker writhed and gibbered on the floor while she turned her plump bottom and stretched the green dress back over her underwear-free body after. There was a bed right in the middle of the room, with a tiny kitchenette in one corner and a long mirror running the length of the wall. Across from that was a shower and a drain, with no curtain or tub, and a toilet; there wasn't even a bedside table. But the lights worked and there was a small window in one wall so she wouldn't feel too confined, and she knew she didn't have much of a choice. The building cleaners had been in since the last time it was used, so it was a lot cleaner than my. More

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