At least I haven't been afraid since; if he were going to do something perverted to me he would have done it then, I figured.At least I haven't been afraid since; if he were going to do something perverted to me he would have done it then, I figured. Anyway, he cut me free of the chair. I was still pretty hot. Relieved and aroused. Excitement, apprehension and foreplay are a deadly combination. I will admit I was afraid, even though I trust him more than anyone else--afraid to be taped to the chair that way. He could have done anything to me. I would like to be able to say that my trust was stronger than my fear, but I don't know. My panic was held in check partly by my reluctance to offend him with mistrust. A midwesterner is the only animal that will allow a sense of etiquette to overcome the instinct for self preservation. He told me to get into bed. I did, still turned extremely on. He released the mosquito netting over the bed-alcove; I thought idly: no mosquitos in February. The netting formed a curtain so that the alcove became a warm, candle-lit, intimate, private and secure little world. But those eye-rings. I noticed four more on the corners of the bed, but it just didn't matter. Floating again. He took some- thing from the bedside table, tossed it to me, and told me to put it on. I examined it. A blindfold. Suddenly visions of a man wearing a Nazi SS uniform hat, with a leather jockstrap and black socks held up by garters flashed through my mind, and I laughed. Snorted, actually. J looked at me impassively, pausing with his shirt half unbuttoned. His mouth smiled a very small smile. His eyes didn't join in the fun. I hadn't thought about it at the time we made up the List, but I was going to be one of Those People. |