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had managed to spit it out --
and Roger tied the hood. He handed me the handcuffs then and
asked me to chain myself. "No, Roger -- you do it." I hugged
him; he hugged my naked body, and bent to his task. The locks
clicked home. "Roger? Touch me again?" I pleaded. He finished
tying my ankles to the floor, and properly threading the ceiling
rope. I felt a gentle caress on the side of my breast as I lay
on the floor. "Let's talk about that later, when we're equal
again," he replied. But he caressed my breast once more, loving-
ly and lingeringly, taking the sting out of his words. And
though we lay there silently, his arm remained on my shoulder,
reassuringly.
I don't know how long I laid there, bound. This time, the chains
were Roger's; the scene, though, was John's, and there was still
very real danger ahead. And I could do nothing to help; we had
no key for me to use to escape and come to Roger's aid if neces-
sary. Eventually, we heard tires kicking up gravel in the drive.
"He's here," Roger said, unnecessarily. He helped me to my feet,
pulled the rope taut, and vanished without even a kiss. Help-
less, I waited for John.
A few minutes later, John came in. "Waiting where I left you, I
see. Polite of you," he sneered. I heard the sound of a heavy
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