VIDEO above - CRAZY IN LOVE - slow male version

**Rated MATURE. This chapter contains erotic action and depictions of sensitive and perhaps frightening subject matter.**

**

Making passionate love in the deep hours of the night brings out Jax's hidden demons ...

Mike gaped up at Jax, his heart thumping and his cock throbbing, ready for anything. He knew he'd do anything, go to any lengths to please her and keep her in his life. He'd lay down his life for her. He'd never known what it was like to love like this and there was no way, no fucking way, he was going to let it slip away.

She waved the whip stick at him again and then burst into laughter. "You should see your face. You actually think I'm going to beat the crap out of you with this, don't you?"

Mike was watching her closely, totally enthralled. The sway and thrust of her breasts as she moved, the perfect shape of her hips and thighs as they formed the beautiful pink V of her crotch. He knew what he wanted to do with her, but how could he know what she had in mind?

"If you want to whip me, go ahead," he told her. "If you need a love slave, I'm him. You can lock me in your cage and throw the key away."

It was a wonderful offer, but Jax knew she was the one who needed a dominant, not him. One who knew how to hurt her the way she needed. He was offering that, too, but she knew it could never work out. He could never do it. And if she didn't get what she needed, she'd never stop being the crazy insane bitch she was.

"Speaking of keys," she laughed, placing the whip back on the dresser and picking up two pair of silver and black handcuffs. She opened each of the cuffs and then placed the two keys back on the dresser.

"I don't want to hurt you, hunk baby," she said. "I want to pleasure you. But I do like props, and I borrowed these from Ms. Bond. You don't mind wearing handcuffs, do you?"

Mike looked at them eagerly. It felt like his cock got even harder at the sight of them. "No, I don't mind. I want to wear them. I want to do whatever excites you."

"Good. Then get up and take off that harness."

Mike got up off the bed. He was right next to her and all he wanted to do was grab her, crush her to him, smother every inch of her luscious body with kisses and caresses. But he knew she wanted to be in charge and he obeyed, unbuckling the harness and pulling it off. Jax whisked around the bed, pulling the spread and blanket down, folding them neatly at the footboard. Mike watched her pretty butt as she moved, every inch of him tingling.

"Pants, too?" he asked, tossing the harness onto a chair in the corner.

"No, just your boots."

Jax looked at his muscular torso, the symmetrical beauty of it, the shapely pecs and rock hard abs, and she could feel contractions down below. It was such a turn-on just to be here with him. But she knew it was still early on, and she knew only too well what could and always did happen, and she knew that she really shouldn't go through with it, for his sake. But she wanted to love him, in whatever way she could, and she hoped and prayed he could take what would follow. Because others had run out in the middle of it, leaving her alone and half out of her mind, struggling to get back to sanity in the deep darkness of the night.

"Now lie down on the bed," she told him after he had kicked his boots off.

He did as she asked, stretching out on the smooth fresh sheet, his hands resting on the pillow next to his ears. He could feel the smile playing on his lips as she watched him at the foot of the bed, her eyes roving over him. The black hair made her look so damn wicked and sexy it was driving him crazy.

"You are entirely too gorgeous," Jax said, walking around to his side. "You are such a bad boy being so to-die-for pretty all the time. I really should whip the crap out of you for being so naughty, but instead I'm going to bind you to this bed and then suck your dick until you come and I hear you screaming."

"Oh, man," Mike gasped, watching eagerly as she attached both sets of the handcuffs to the bedposts behind him. In the dim lamplight he had an enticing view of her beautiful hairless pussy and the undersides of her breasts bobbing above him. "Jeezus! Really?"

She laughed at him again. "You really are a nerd in disguise. If I was the one who wrote books, mine would all be about guys like you. There's nothing sexier than a hot guy who's a dork when it comes to sex. Because then we girls get to show him all about it."

Mike grinned. "Yes, show me."

She grabbed his right arm and cuffed it back at the wrist, then his left. He lay there with his arms stretched back behind him, his hairless armpits as big as soup bowls. She stood there, her pussy inches from his face, and she tickled the armpit closest to her.

"God, if I had whipped cream, I'd spray this pit full of it and lick out every bit."

Mike's eyes widened. "Room service might be able to send up a can."

Jax feigned shock. "At the Plaza? My goodness, people never do things like that here."

She turned and got two lengths of the black nylon cord and threw them on the bed near his feet. Then she stooped over and unbuckled his belt, loosened it, and unzipped his leather pants, being careful not to catch any of the bulging package within in the zipper. Scooting back a little, she tottered on her heels and grabbed each side of the pants at the waist, and the briefs beneath them, and slowly began to pull them down. The creamy expanse of his lower abdomen came into view and Jax was delighted at the defined V-shape of his oblique muscles as they angled down to his crotch. Then there came the root of his cock, thick and hard, and she held her breath in anticipation.

Her heart beating harder, faster, she pulled harder and faster, as the length of the thick shaft came into view. Then it suddenly sprang up as it escaped the confines of the fabric and stood there commando pointing up at her.

Jax gaped. It was big, shapely, and circumcised. It didn't have the extraneous foreskin, just a lovely rounded head with a slit at the tip. She wanted to touch it but kept pulling the pants down, marveling at his lovely balls as they lay against the muscles of his upper thighs.

Then with a rush, desire building within her, she pulled the pants all the way down, over his feet, and tossed them onto the nearby chair. Then she tied his ankles to the footboard and kicked off her spiked heels. She climbed on the bed and straddled him, gazing at his handsome face and beautiful body, a little smile quirking her lips.

"I could just eat you all up till nothing is left," she told him.

Mike grinned sheepishly at her. He thought he was going to have an orgasm and explode all over her before she even got a chance to do anything. There was such an unstoppable flood of sensation coursing through him, filling his thighs with prickly teasing heat and a throbbing rush. Her long dark hair, those haunting made-up eyes, her breasts swaying as she hovered over him, her legs spread wide and the treasure between them his for the taking. It all added up to sheer joyous sexual torture, and he felt like he'd just plain fucking die of it.

"I'm all yours, baby," he breathed, pulling at the handcuffs and ropes. "See, I can't move more than a couple inches."

Jax laughed. "Speaking of inches. God, there must be eight or nine of them here."

She lowered her head and the thick hair fell onto his hips. The rosary slid from her breasts and he could feel the cross dangling between his inner thighs.

He inanely thought, "Thank you, God, for this sexy girl who loves me ..."

And when she came down on him, his cock firmly within the tight wetness of her mouth, sheathed in it, he moaned and groaned and arched his back, pulling at the handcuffs and ropes as she moved up and down, up and down, pleasuring him like he'd never experienced before.

Jax loved the feel and taste of him in her mouth. She had never actually enjoyed doing this to a man before, but she loved doing it to Mike. She loved him, every square and cubic and linear inch of him. That better girl in her was still strong, even when she was not present, and she was glad of that. Glad she had not just dismissed him earlier and went on her way alone. If nothing else, she'd have tonight and the memories of being with a man who really loved her.

She couldn't fit all of him in her, but she went as far as she could without choking. Up and down, up and down, tickling the hard shaft with her tongue, rubbing her hands over his abs and pecs and around his back to the muscular mounds of his butt. She wanted so badly to scoot up and guide his cock inside her and ride him from atop. She was having aching contractions, desiring it so, and she could feel the wetness coming.

But she dared not do it. Intercourse without being tied up, suspended, hurting, would only bring out the demons in her, and she didn't want that to happen with Mike. He was too good a man to have sex with the spawn of the devil at her worst.

He moaned and strained at the bindings. She grabbed his balls and caressed them as she went on pleasuring him. Tighter and tighter she sqeezed them. She could feel his cock throbbing, growing harder along the underside as his orgasm neared. One hand slid back under his butt, her finger searching for his rectum.

When Mike felt her finger go up his ass, he gasped out a cry that then went on and on, louder and louder as she pushed the finger up and down, up and down, tickling his prostate gland, caressing his balls with her other hand, and sucking on his cock with her mouth.

He was delirious, soaring higher and higher, the world spinning and careening, a floodtide of sensation firing his thighs and crotch and interior, throbbing all through him from the soul-drenching delight of the smooth, moist, tingling sensation calling forth his juices. From thigh to scrotum on up his shaft the fire burned until his undulating cry turned into a shout and then a roar and he lost all control of himself, pulling maniacally against his bindings.

"Ohmygod! Ahhh ... ahhh! Jax! Jax! Jax!"

His elixer of life flowed into Jax's mouth in great spurts, so powerful that she had to struggle not to gag or choke, or let it seep out down upon him. She felt chills streak up and down her spine as she tasted it, salty, bitter, yet oddly sweet. And what it meant to her was ultimately sacred - it was the very life force of this wonderful man who wholly and unconditionally loved her.

She wouldn't let a drop of it escape.

His cries subsided. His tremors faded. She kept him in her mouth as long as she could, then pulled her head up and faced the ceiling, swallowing. Then she looked down at him and laughed.

"Jeezus! That was enough protein for a whole week. I thought you were never going to stop. What? Do you have an extra large tank down in there?"

Mike was breathing hard. He looked up at her through glazed eyes. "It's been developing at ten times the normal rate since I was in the park with you on Saturday, and just waiting to be released. You have an insanely arousing effect on me."

Jax crashed down on top of him, her soft breasts crushing against his hard chest. Straightening her legs, she stretched out and the length of her was covering him. She threaded her arms under him and around his shoulders.

"Well," she sighed. "Sorry you had to wait a few days, but life has a habit of getting in the way sometimes."

"Tell me about it! Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Jax kissed his nose. "From a book I bought at the grocery store a while back."

Mike laughed, loving the feel of her on top of him. "The grocery store? Were there recipes for food in it too?"

"No, just sex. That's what housewives need to know about the most. They've had food down pat for a long time now."

"You are the farthest thing from a housewife there ever was. Sexy leather girl who disrupts even the totally disreputable Red Club. And in bed ... jeez ... The Nympho from the Black Lagoon!"

She knew he was kidding, but the name sent a chill up her spine. He as yet had no idea how monstrous she could be.

"Well, you've seen some of the best in me. Hopefully, you won't have to see any of the worst. And I'm sure your girlfriend Jax would be the model housewife. She's like that. But not me."

Mike lifted his head and kissed her. "Don't say that. You and she are one and the same. I can see through the trick your mind plays. Everybody has two sides. Yours are just a little more pronounced. I can see that other Jax there inside you."

Jax kissed him tenderly on the lips. "You make it sound so simple."

"Stick with me, baby, and it will be simple. We'll get married next week and then go to Europe. I tell you, they won't find us there. My dad is buds with the pope. He'll get il papa to hide us out in the Vatican. Or like I said, my mom's castle – it has so many secret rooms and passages that the maids sometimes get lost and it takes hours to find them."

Jax sighed. "Married?" She rested her head on his shoulders and played with his chin with her lips. "What? You after my money?"

"Hell no. I talked to my dad this morning. He was very moved by what's happened and he turned the money back on for me. Plus I'll have all my own in a few years, and a billion or more of his eventually." He snorted. "But I'd probably want your publishing company."

She chuckled. "Yah, I figured you'd want that. It's awesome, isn't it? So ... is this a proposal?"

"Yes! I'd get down on my knees but you've got me all hooked up to the bed." He tugged at the cuffs and ropes. "I'd have to be Superman to break loose."

Jax slipped her arms down to his waist and hugged him tightly, her face buried in his neck and collarbone. It sounded so wonderful. Get married. Run off to Europe. Hide out in some secret chambers deep in Rome or a hidden suite in an old French chateau. Be with Mike day and night and heal, recover, become a real person, be free of all the nightmare past.

There was a troubled note in her voice as she said, "I'll give you my answer in the morning. That is, if you still feel the same."

He caught the tone and responded sharply. "What? Of course I'll feel the same. You're crazy with your ideas. Come on, let me loose. I wanna do to you what you did to me."

She laughed and grabbed his cock and squeezed it. It was still hard. "You can't. I don't have a dick, remember?"

"I noticed, sweetie. And I like what's there a whole lot better."

Jax rolled off him reluctantly and grabbed the keys from the top of the dresser. She then unlocked the bottom cuffs, freeing his wrists. As he rubbed his strained arms, she untied his ankles, leaving the ropes down at the foot of the bed. He noticed she looked tight-faced as he sat up and she plopped down next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you want me to stay bound to the bed?"

She looked tense, apprehensive. The happy mood she'd been in was all but gone. "It's okay. I just ... don't want to ruin things."

"What? How? Everything is so x million times awesome."

She tossed back her hair and pushed the bangs up from her brow. "I'm not real good at this part."

"Whaddaya mean? When I make love to you?"

She took in a deep breath and nodded. "Because of when I was a kid ... when my dad used to ... and the other men in the cult ... and what I witnessed at the rituals ..."

"Oh, jeez!" Mike's arms enveloped her, rocked her back and forth. "You seemed okay the other day in the park."

She grunted. "That was her. She doesn't feel all this crap the way I do. It doesn't do to her what it does to me. Ha, that's what I'm for – the one who feels all the pain, remembers all the horror. She's spared most of that, lucky fuckin' bitch that she is."

The bitterness in her voice was as powerful as a blow. Mike felt his heart begin to thud. "We don't have to do anything more. We can just go to sleep. All I need is to be with you."

Jax knew he really meant it, he wouldn't mind. But she had to take the chance. Maybe she'd be all right with him. He really did love her. Maybe that would make it different from the others. She knew she had to go through with it. She had to try.

She broke free of his hold and scooted back on the bed, forcing a smile and a laugh into her voice. "No. It's all right. I should be okay with you." She stretched out beside him. "Just cuff me and tie my ankles. In case."

Mike turned to look at her. "In case what? What are you worried about? Why won't you tell me what you do with Santoro?"

"Oh please, don't bring him up now," she laughed. But they both heard the note of hysteria in her voice. "Stop worrying about it. He doesn't fuck me. I don't have sex with him. You want to get married, hunk doll? You gonna love me forever, Heathcliff? Then we gotta see what happens when ... when ..."

He stood up as her words broke off and he looked down at her, a vision of sensuous beauty spread out on the bed. He had no idea what she was getting at, but he knew that there wasn't anything that could possibly happen that could turn him off to her. Without saying anything further, he grabbed one wrist and then the other and cuffed them. Then he picked up the ropes and stoutly tied her ankles to the footboard.

She looked up at him gamely, smiling as if nothing was amiss, but he could see it in her eyes, the fear. And he felt a stab at his heart because he knew there was the possibility he was going to experience something that perhaps no man ever should.

Then he got back on the bed and straddled her. He inched down on her, kissed her, looked at her eyes. But they were shut now and there was just a hint of a smile on her face. He began to move, rubbing his still-hard cock along her tummy, and the smile brightened.

Encouraged, Mike slid down her, kissing her chin, her long lovely neck, her collar bones and shoulders, the pentagram tattoo, and down to her breasts. He fondled them with his tongue, sucking first on one nipple, then the other, feeling them swell and harden. He kissed the undersides, lavished them with his tongue, and the valley in between. He fondled the cross on the rosary with his lips, kissed it, whispered a prayer to the God of his youth upon it that he'd be able to love this girl without mishap or the realization of the terrible fears she held.

Sliding down, Mike's lips trailed down her sweet creamy tummy to her navel, which he bathed with his tongue, and then down toward the sweetness between her legs, as his hands rose up to settle on her breasts and knead them tenderly.

He could hear her moaning lowly, little more than a sigh, and feel her squirming beneath him. He shivered at the sound and the feel of it, and his erection began to throb anew as his tongue caressed the outer lips of her vulva, smooth and sweet and all his for the taking. Wet now, too, he learned as his tongue darted in, tasting her juices as he caressed the inner walls and folds and the swelling nub of her femininity.

Mike's mind spun out and he became lost in the splendor of her secret beauty, his tongue swirling, probing, setting her aflame. She sighed and moaned, whimpered, and thrust at him. And it urged him on to deeper penetration, quicker thrusts, his face buried there in her mound of love.

Then her moans of pleasure altered ... suddenly. Her body jolted like she'd been struck by a taser ... and the first growl came.

It tore through the quiet of the room like the cry of an angry dog ... and sent a chilling streak coursing up Mike's spine.

His head flung up to look up at her. She couldn't possibly have made that sound. He was sure of it. There was absolutely no way ...

She was looking wide-eyed at the ceiling, her eyes glazed as if staring far off into space.

"Was that you?" he whispered, doubting.

She pulled and tugged at the handcuffs and ropes, and the voice that answered him was not hers. It was as guttural and angry as the growl.

"Hurt me, you fucker! You gotta hurt me!"

It was mean, nasty, evil, and ... male.

Mike's jaw dropped and he inched back as Jax raised her head and glared at him with burning eyes.

"You wimpy ass bastard!" came the gravelly male voice again, like a nightmare roar out of an old vintage horror movie. Her arms were tugging at the handcuffs behind her, shaking the bed. "You gotta hurt me! I ain't no fucking Barbie doll, ya know?"

And then, again, the vicious growl roared out of her and across the room, as the bed shook from her tugging and pulling.

Mike inched back further, his heart banging, his cock softening, his mouth agape and his eyes popped wide. He'd never experienced anything so frightful in his life. Even the devil jumping out of  Giorgio's closet couldn't compare.

"Jax ... honey ..." he muttered, chills streaking throughout him.

Then, again, the maniacal shaking of the bed, the nightmarish male voice. "Don't you honey me, you goddamn Romeo mother fucker. What's wrong with all you guys? Can't you even hurt a girl the way she needs it? The way her fucking daddy and his friends used to?"

Then came a hideous laugh, followed by another growl, her eyes seeming to burn and glow as she leered at him, the bed shaking from her tossing and tugging.

Outraged, Mike sprang forward, scooting up her body. Hardly understanding what he was doing, he grabbed the rosary from her breast and pointed the cross at her face.

"Who the hell are you in there?" he shouted at the glaring eyes. "Get out of there, dammit! Get the fuck out of her!"

She couldn't be possessed, he was thinking. Even Father Kent had agreed with that. There were no such things as devils and demons. But yet ... it couldn't be her in there. She couldn't be ...

Another angry growl was the reply, and a horrific hiss that reverberated around the room. The glassy eyes were fixed on him, the face laughing.

"I'm Beezlebub, schmeezlebub, fuck-you-in-your-ass-bub! And I like it in here, asshole. And if I wasn't all tied up like this I'd beat the living shit out of you. Done it before, dude! You're not the first fool to try and make this slut cry 'daddy'. But you can't do it, bro ... you just can't ..."

Shaking all over, Mike leaned forward and pressed the cross against Jax's forehead, as if it could push the awful voice right out of her.

"Get the fuck outta there, you son-of-a-bitch!"

He screamed it, his face contorted with rage. Jax drew in a quick breath with a sharp cry, her own voice again, and her eyes began to roll, her mouth wide agape, her body thrusting so hard he had to sit down on her and hold her down with his weight and push at her with his free hand.

Then, suddenly, the thrusting and tugging at the bindings stopped, and another voice came out. Soft it was, gentle, beautiful, easily recognizable. But it chilled Mike to the core even more than the horrible one. Even in its beauty, it was so fucking frightening that he could really be hearing it.

"Mike dude, you really do need to hurt her. She should've told you all about it, but she's so afraid you'll reject her if you know. Just get her in a lock and break her arm, bro. Maybe a leg. You sure look strong enough to do it. She's got to have pain, dude. It's the only thing that can please her and calm her down. Really ..."

Mike pulled the rosary away and slipped it over his own neck. He was shaking like a leaf. The voice was Michael Jackson's, coming right out of Jax's mouth. That sweet, sweet voice he'd heard so many times when he was a kid, gone now but known to him and so many others around the world forever ...

He let out a trembling breath. Her eyes were closed now. She was breathing peacefully ...

With a trembling voice, Mike said, "I can't hurt her like that. Fuck, dammit! Why am I even talking to you? Where's Jax? Jax! Come back outta there. Talk to me!"

Her eyes popped open and stared right at him. But the voice that spoke, once again was not hers. It was another, a woman.

"Oh, Michael," it was saying, obviously to the previous speaker, "you can't expect Mike to break her arm or leg. Heck, he's a nice guy. And he loves her."

Mike felt as if electricity was coursing throughout him, a constant stream of high-voltage electric shock. The voice was Paula Abdul, the singer and celebrity, as sharp and strident and commanding as if he were watching an old American Idol show where he'd heard that voice a thousand times. 

He couldn't fucking believe it!

"Simon!" the voice said next, and Jax's eyes darted this way and that. "Are you in here, Simon? Tell this nice hunky stud what to do. He really loves our girl here."

Mike watched Jax's eyes shut, and he closed his own too, bracing for what was to come. And when it did, it was still frightening as all hell, even though the voice was strangely comforting, so familiar, one of such unquestionable authority that everyone around the globe still to this day hung on his every word... the deep tones of Simon Cowell.

"All right, young man, you have got to hurt her. She's used to being hog-tied and hung from the ceiling in a sling at varying angles and amounts of pressure to induce pain. This girl needs to hurt to feel good again. Actual sex is not usually a part of it, but seeing as it's you, a little stimulation of her nether regions might be a plus. I dare say you could accommodate ...?"

Mike felt a tear slide down his cheek and he wrapped his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to stop his shaking.

They were just voices, he was telling himself. She was just talking in voices!

It was Jax who was talking. They did that, those with multiple personalities and other mental illnesses. He'd read about it in the Internet articles earlier in the day. And the voices were exact. Like the real thing, coming straight out of the subconscious mind that had heard them scores and maybe hundreds and thousands of times and remembered them exactly as they were ...

She was just talking in voices. Voices of people she'd admired in her childhood. And a frightening demonic one right out of an old horror movie ...

"Thanks, dude," he muttered inanely to Simon, pushing all the terror aside with a desperate mental thrust, and he jumped off the bed.

He got the key to the handcuffs on her left arm and hurried to unlock it. Jax was beginning to struggle a little bit again and he had to work fast. She was mumbling incoherently now as he untied her left foot and swung her leg up under her. He grabbed the flailing free arm and pinned it beneath her back and tied her wrist and ankle together.

"Ahh! Oooh!" she grunted as he pulled the rope tight.

"What the hell you think you're doing?" Jax suddenly cried out angrily, the demonic male voice again, echoing with a hiss around the room. "No! Don't do it. Don't hurt her like that, you fucking cunt piece of shit!

"Get off of her!" The voice roared in Mike's ears as he straddled her again, putting pressure on the hog-tied arm and leg underneath her. "Stop doing that! It's not good for her!"

"Fuck you, you monster!" he shouted back at the voice in spite of himself. He wanted to ignore it. It wasn't real. But he couldn't help it. This whole damn nightmare was really happening. "First you tell me to do it, now you say don't. Just get the hell outta her again!"

Yes, it was hurting her. Mike knew it. But he didn't care now. He'd hurt her as much as she needed because he now understood it not only brought her pleasure, it also brought her peace. And he also knew the evil from her past was telling him to stop because that part of her didn't want her to have peace, only terror and turmoil and the insanity that such evil brings.

"Stop! Stop! ... eeeeee ...  ohh ... ohmygod!" The cry came again in the monster's voice. And then, softer, in a voice more like her own.  "Oh, Michael ... Simon ... Paula! He's hurting me! Tell him to stop ... stop ... ohhhhhhh ..."

Mike's two fingers had gone up her slit and he was pumping her as he lay on top of her, pressing down upon the bound arm and leg with a pressure equivalent to wrestle holds that made grown men cry out in pain and admit defeat. But, along with his smooth steady stimulation below, it was working. The crazy voices stopped. Jax began to sigh and whimper in her own tones. Her struggling eased and slowly changed to an easy undulating sway in tempo with the rhythm of his hand.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... ohhhhh ..."

Mike's face was resting on hers, his lips caressing hers. He was still trembling and he felt like he'd been on a roller coaster to hell and back, but he knew he'd take the fucking ride again and again and again if it was the only way he could be with Jax ... the sweet, innocent, and totally unhinged girl he loved.

**

Later, somewhere in the dark hours of the night, Mike awoke with her cuddled in his arms. She had climaxed again and again earlier, her juices flowing all over him. Then he uncuffed her and untied her and they'd lain there whispering tender words to each other until exhaustion and sleep had overtaken them.

Now, in the utter quiet of the hotel room, he let go and gave vent to his shattered emotions. Tears fell as he realized that nothing mattered anymore except Jax, the girl he loved. Not all the money, not his books, not his face up on Times Square, nor all the fame and fortune and glory the world had to offer.

He would put it all behind him just to be with her, safe and loving each other in a world without fear.

He realized he was holding the cross of the rosary in his hand and he squeezed it, feeling the figure of the man upon it pressed into his palm. How he wished he had faith in God! He doubted that he ever again would ... but for the first time in his life he realized what a comfort it could be and the peace it could bring to the souls and minds of the tortured ...

**

Thanks for reading, everybody. And the night's not over yet!

Next ... Giorgio and Father Kent - like you never ever would imagine!

A/N Speaking in Voices is a not uncommon phenomenon of the mentally ill and sometimes the ageing. Voices are often depicted exactly like the originals heard by the sufferers on a regular basis usually in their formative childhood years. It is very frightening to experience, especially when the voices are those of evil characters.