Pant, pant.Pant, pant. "Say it." (Pant-pant, calming a little) "I want to be tied up," I said flatly. "I get off on it." I didn't sound convincing even to myself. Its easier to tell an unconvincing truth than it is to tell a convinc- ing lie. Did you ever tell a truth in an unconvincing way because you didn't want it to be believed? Even though it was true, I couldn't make myself reveal the truth, so my answer sounded like a recitation read from cue-cards. I didn't mind him knowing I liked bondage, I just thought it was degrading for me to have to tell him. "Not good enough." "Please! What more do you want? I've admitted it!" "Admitting it's not enough." "But this is torture," I wailed. "Does it hurt?" "Yes! No! I don't know what you want!" "I want to be convinced. If it's true, convince me. If it's not, say so and I'll stop, untie you and put you in a nice comfortable bed." "But I said it's true! What more do....Oh No....!" My protest dissolved into a wail as he put more of the stuff on me. "Now we'll wait for it to take effect," he said. [Editorial insert: Actually, he didn't put more on me, he just pretended to. He told me after proofing this account that instead of waiting for it to take effect he was waiting for me to cool down a bit. We went through several cycles of this, with the pretense that he was anesthetizing me: sometimes he really did, sometimes not (I think); he won't tell me if he really used it again or not. It was really the power of suggestion that did it to me. That, and a little Anbesol. I guess this is Just another mindfuck. Well, the brain is my second favorite organ.] So I squirmed and cried in frustration while I became numb for the second time. |