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05 06-4
f - g - h 12#
She'd been writhing for several hours now as the sun went lower in the sky. Still she moved, but it was at a slower pace now, the slumping down to hang on outstretched arms was of a longer duration every time. The crying, sobbing, screaming had all become more subdued. The camera duo had been busy all day, still images and video recording, whilst the others had laid out to top up their suntans, occasionally pleasuring themselves or indulging in an bit of girl-girl activity.
They'd eaten all the food and drink all the wine and now there were only the bottles of water to go at. Not that water was given to the cruxee; that was out of order, so lips were becoming swollen and cracked, thirst a problem that would only get worse.
Dusk was falling when all movement stopped. Jo listened at regular intervals with the old stethoscope that was part of the equipment they brought every time. When the sequence had a few silent readings she deemed the job done and by way of certainty, took a long, sharp knife from the box on the trolley and slashed the girl's throat. It was only fair, right and proper too, that she ensured meticulous thoroughness in the completion of each project.
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