I went into my room and undressed, then headed back to the living room.I went into my room and undressed, then headed back to the living room. "Are you ready?" Roger asked. I re- mained mute, no more able to agree than I had been when John bound me to his whipping post. I draped the gag around my neck -- we decided to try pretending I had managed to spit it out -- and Roger tied the hood. He handed me the handcuffs then and asked me to chain myself. "No, Roger -- you do it." I hugged him; he hugged my naked body, and bent to his task. The locks clicked home. "Roger? Touch me again?" I pleaded. He finished tying my ankles to the floor, and properly threading the ceiling rope. I felt a gentle caress on the side of my breast as I lay on the floor. "Let's talk about that later, when we're equal again," he replied. But he caressed my breast once more, loving- ly and lingeringly, taking the sting out of his words. And though we lay there silently, his arm remained on my shoulder, reassuringly. I don't know how long I laid there, bound. This time, the chains were Roger's; the scene, though, was John's, and there was still very real danger ahead. And I could do nothing to help; we had no key for me to use to escape and come to Roger's aid if neces- sary. Eventually, we heard tires kicking up gravel in the drive. "He's here," Roger said, unnecessarily. He helped me to my feet, pulled the rope taut, and vanished without even a kiss. Help- less, I waited for John. A few minutes later, John came in. "Waiting where I left you, I see. Polite of you," he sneered. I heard the sound of a heavy object hitting floor, and the clank of some metal. |