Chapter Seven
But first, she reminded herself, there was the punishment. She had been putting this to one side, hoping against hope that he might forget about it, or change his mind. But in reality, she was sure he would follow through with what he had promised. What he had threatened.
She spent a miserable, uncomfortable night, tossing and turning, unable to get into a position of relaxation in her strait-jacket. The next morning Stoker came in with a piece of bread and a mug of water. He took off her gag so that she might eat. She was forced to lean forward, taking it off the table with her mouth. She tasted it; the bread wasn’t even fresh. The water was poured into a bowl. She took a sip of it.
“Water good enough for you?” he said in that nasty way of his. “Want me to piss in it to s
