Chapter Six
Golden Handcuffs
When I started coming to, my arms were pinned inside a makeshift latex straitjacket—the only article of clothing on me. My ankles were secured by gold handcuffs to two ornamental knobs on a small footboard to a narrow bed. Sitting upright required as much effort as the exercise by that name: sit-ups. My skin stuck to the black vinyl mattress because there was no sheet. Still groggy, I glanced around a dimly-lit basement before my eyes could focus on Honey.
“Enjoy your beauty sleep?” She smiled at me. Perhaps she was gloating, but she also mingled a little warmth and a lot of flirtation in her expression. She wore a gold lamé dress with matching gloves and was smoking a cigarette.
“Honey Bates,” I said aloud. “Right?”
“Yes.” She slid her gloved hands down h
