Diane's Prison
One day more, here I am. Or may I say night? I really don’t know. I can’t know what day or time is it. Here enclosed in my prison, I just can’t conscience of time. The hours appear to be days, and the days years. And everything started that damned day… I worked in an office. I was a lawyer, a good lawyer. I had solved hundred of cases. When I arrived home, I had a shower, afterwards I had dinner, and then I went to the Club. It was a “Fetish Club”. ...