Chapter Fifty Two
Such Ignominy
In the bedroom, Jim knows to let me strip him naked, hands passive as I remove and ceremoniously toss every stitch into a pile which Christy the maid will diligently launder tomorrow morning.
“That’s not for me, is it?” referencing the suspension harness.
It seems Jim either has an inkling as to its use, or makes a rational assumption based on the penchants of its owner.
“No, I’ve been introducing it to Christy. Certain aspects of suspension bondage can be fascinating... the vulnerability... the helplessness... the physiological urgency to harden, for the male.”
A bashful Christy enters, cuffs and collar, no shoes. Jim laughs, my posture collar quite restrictive, intended to ameliorate neck injuries. She has brought her meal of ice cream. I point to a
