Chapter Two
Mrs. Dalton
I slip my hand into the freezing slush and cruelly pinch Ted’s scrotal flesh between the sharp nails of thumb and forefinger. There is no discernible reaction. He is appropriately numbed. With my level of disgust over his conduct I certainly would not want him to experience pleasure.
The bottom draw of the dresser displays a collection of formidable dildos. Ted purchased the modest and smooth ones...hardly used. The larger more exotic ones I procured through catalogues and furtive trips to some of the more sordid shops of Greenwich Village.
Since I won’t be seeing Ted for a while I want him to have a memorable last evening. I select the largest...one with ridges, bumps, and furrows, which serve to properly pressure that curious male gland...the prostate. I don
