“You won’t believe it. Oh god, I don’t believe it!”
“What!”
“It’s her boyfriend! What’s his name, Jim? He’s on the floor up here, completely naked and all tied up!”
“No way! Let me see! Go on up, hurry!”
Many other voices were similarly raised in shock, excitement and delight, and I found my heart pounding so hard I feared it would explode. Soon Liz, Angel, and six or seven other girls had climbed up into the spacious attic. One by one they gasped, goggled at me, and burst out into scandalized laughter. It soon seemed that everyone in the house had gathered to witness my hilarious predicament, and all I could do was squirm under their appalled scrutiny. At last Angel, who as a devoutly intellectual lesbian had an avowed contempt for all men, addressed me.
“Did Jean do this to you?”
I
