Chapter Forty-One
“So you’re kept, owned like some kind of serf.”
Not a question, the Uber driver makes a statement. I would prefer to ignore her, the woman’s manner of speech irritatingly blunt. But before departing, wife Linda exited the house, gesturing for the driver to stop.
‘Please assure that Jake gets this. I emailed her... she’s expecting it. And if you’re curious about it, Andy can explain... won’t you Andy,” the latter words more of a threat than a suggestion.
‘This’ being the remote for my electrified cockcage. As we headed for the freeway, under cross examination I quickly explained its use and more or less pleaded that she not push any buttons. In so doing, the utility of the device plus other evidence of my servitude... steel neck collar and ringed wrist and ankle bands.
