Chapter Twenty Two
Beginning To Peel The Onion
Friday, Christy has one class in mid afternoon until 5:00 p.m. That means I can drive her into town later, have her wait after class and I will drive her back.
That leaves the entire morning for exercise, sundry chores and her bath.
So the morning routine repeats, except as a woman of governance, I know one must always exercise discretion, perhaps a better term caprice, in keeping the subordinate male on his/her toes.
So in the kitchen I draw Christy’s hands behind her back as expected and clip the Posey cuffs well up onto the neck collar. I open the kitchen door and nod toward the corral. Christy lingers.
“My cage, Ma’am,” as Christy has come to reference his CB-6000.
His last two walks about the corral have been sans chastity device,
