“So you were aware. You planned this all?” I asked.
“Planned and then later, chronicled it in a book that was written by an old friend, Jurgen von Stuka. The book is called Bondage Brokers.”
“I’ll have to read that,” I said. “But you eventually escaped? You got free. How?”
“Oh, they found me one day while cleaning out other parts of the customized dungeons,” Ellen said, sounding casual, but with a slight shiver that indicated more than her words disclosed.
She looked now directly at me and laughed.
“Boy, were they surprised. You would have thought that they’d discovered an old and dusty skeleton behind some sealed up stone wall. There was shouting and screaming and yelling and the workers were convinced they would be blamed for what had happened to me.”
“Was that it? Was that wher
