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it to be believed? Even though it was true, I couldn't
make myself reveal the truth, so my answer sounded like a recitation
read from cue-cards. I didn't mind him knowing I liked bondage, I just
thought it was degrading for me to have to tell him.
"Not good enough."
"Please! What more do you want? I've admitted it!"
"Admitting it's not enough."
"But this is torture," I wailed.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes! No! I don't know what you want!"
"I want to be convinced. If it's true, convince me. If it's not,
say so and I'll stop, untie you and put you in a nice comfortable
bed."
"But I said it's true! What more do....Oh No....!" My protest
dissolved into a wail as he put more of the stuff on me.
"Now we'll wait for it to take effect," he said.
[Editorial insert: Actually, he didn't put more on me, he just
pretended to. He told me after proofing this account that instead of
waiting for it to take effect he was waiting for me to cool down a
bit. We went through several cycles of this, with the pretense that he
was anesthetizing me: sometimes he really did, sometimes not (I
think); he won't tell me if he really used it again or not. It was
really the power of suggestion that did it to me. That, and a little
Anbesol. I guess this is Just
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