But I got even with John for ignoring my qualms about public exposure -- I convinced the cop to release me, and to let me put my pair of handcuffs on John in place of his.But I got even with John for ignoring my qualms about public exposure -- I convinced the cop to release me, and to let me put my pair of handcuffs on John in place of his. I then drove John off, and I played the master in that game! Once I was bound, he drove off. His voice seemed a bit slurred, though, and his driving rather unsteady. "John? Have you been drinking again? I don't think you can drive far enough in your condition." He snarled, "Shut up!", as he pulled into the driveway of a sleazy motel not half a mile from my office. "What I drink is my business. And if you don't behave yourself, I won't give you a sweater to put over your hands when you go up to the room." I shook. For all that I love what I do, and don't hesitate to tell prospective lovers early on, I'm terrified of exposure. And John would do it, too, especially because of my fear -- it was just one more aspect of him crossing the line on pain. I started to get seriously concerned. He parked the car and, with a knife from the glove compartment, cut the tie holding my hands to the seatbelt. He tossed me a sweater and headed upstairs, leaving me to get out of the car and follow as best I could. Surprisingly, he took my bags with him. I was just as glad; I had to get some work done that night, come hell or high water, and I wasn't pleased with the leers some of the local loiterers were giving me. Small wonder, perhaps -- I was wearing a sheer, low-cut blouse and very short skirt -- but it still made me nervous. I wish I knew why he had picked this neighbourhood. Once we were inside, things got a lot better, at least at first. He closed the door behind us, grabbed me, and kissed me thorough- ly. I put my bound hands around his neck, which reminded him of the games we had planned; he tolerated the embrace for a moment longer, then stepped back and ordered me to strip. Again, there was a cold note in his voice. And there was a seriously depleted bottle of vodka on the dresser. |