"Open," he instructed. I did it without hesitation. Something cold and sweet was placed in my mouth.

"I like grapes," I muttered at last, identifying the taste. "Grape is my favourite flavour."

"I know. Here, eat some more." He fed me grapes and apple slices, switching between that and the juice. I was feeling a lot better and feeling like I had some control over my own thoughts and body again when he started to massage cream into the flesh where the cuffs had lay. They hadn't been that tight, but they had left marks. That was probably down to the fact that I had been wriggling like a motherfucker,...