“Ohhh. Ohhh. Please, please stop. This is killing me. Please. Please. Ohh, no. Oohh,” she moaned over and over. I wondered if she was attached to a wall like I was to the floor and how long she had been there. It wouldn’t be long before I started to complain too, as the posture was not one I wanted to hold for very long.
“We’re going boating, sweet thing,” the woman said as she entered my room. I could have cared less. But then, in a moment or two, at least the locks were off the n****e rings and the head-to-feet chain was slackened. She eased me up and two men came into the room and picked me up by my feet and shoulders and out the door we went. Up the stairs, down a hall and out to a garage. It wasn’t really a garage, but rather a small boathouse with two motorboats tied up under the ro
