Chapter Forty-Eight
The Wednesday of Mrs. Lipton’s matinee comes. In deciding Jack’s mode of dress, I rule out his white and pink togas. It’s the Waldorf, the decorum more stately than a seedy Soho club.
Still I want attraction, the humiliation of being exhibited in female clothing quite exciting, assuaging Jack’s sordid masochistic need.
So I lay out the pumpkin orange pullover, a lesser shade for his silk panties and matching sandals.
The weather remaining warm, we’ll walk. It’s many blocks but Jack’s conditioning is superb. And I could use a little exercise.
A text message comes through, Mrs. Lipton departing the theater and suggesting to meet in room 2717 at 7:00 p.m. So I dress Jack, debating whether to lead him about on his leash. I decide the walk will go quicker without, but
