Chapter Nineteen
We traverse the congested Cross Bronx Expressway, slowly as always. Under the many bright overhead lights, passing cars can easily spy Jack, shoulders, arms and chest exposed. Some honk. I so return the honk, smile and wave. Jack shudders, lowering in his seat in an attempt to veil himself.
“Bad boy, Jack, sit up for me like a big boy.”
With that I reach up to the windshield sun visor. There, in a neat row, are clothes pins, ready for quick and easy punishment.
“Please no,” Jack beseeches in seeing me pinch to remove one.
“Permission, Jack. Always ask permission to move.”
With that I cautiously reach to him and snare his left n****e in the jaws, mercifully smooth. I release to pinch closed, such sending my message of correction.
“Now sit up, hands on your head, pro
