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Then, she took out the duct tape and the dowels. She slid a dowel down each of her calves until they were a full four inches below her heels, then taped them into place. She taped all the way from her knees to her ankles, it looked like she was wearing shiny, latex boots. She stood up. She had to keep most of her weight on the balls of her feet - like punana. She made herself walk around the room twice, feeling the fear of falling, the tension up and down her legs, swimming in the silence of her plugged ears, feeling the spit running over her bottom lip and down her chin. Soon, it would run down her neck, then onto her chest. She felt herself getting wet between the legs, wanted to touch herself, but knew she couldn't. punana couldn't, that is - so Daisy wouldn't.Daisy walked around the room one more time, then stopped and stood still just behind her chair. She ran her fingers along the edge of the chair back, feeling the cool leather under her fingertips, imagining Peter touching. She tried to sleep but could not, her body and mind exhausted from the horror and sexual orgy of the previous night, yet unable to relax.She lay in her bed, waiting for her mother and Sierra to arise. Her heart ached for the lovely Mexican and to know that she was directly responsible for what had happened to Carmine. Cathy wondered if her soul was lost. Would she eventually end up as a midnight repast for Dahlgrin? She shuddered to consider that possibility.At last there was an urgent knock at her door."Cathy, are you awake?" came her mother's voice."Just a moment," responded Cathy, throwing on a robe.As she opened the door, she immediately saw the worried look on Jessica's face."What is it Mom? Is Sierra OK?" she asked, knowing her daughter was not the reason for her mother's visit."Sierra's fine dear. It's Carmine. She's left!" What do you mean left?" asked Cathy, feigning ignorance."She left this note on the table. I checked her room. There's a bag and some of her clothes.
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