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as
if it belonged there. Roger noticed, and laughed.
"Whatever do you mean by that?" he asked, as he pulled the two
chain remnants close together. "Do you mean you like this?" he
asked as he grabbed a discarded twist-tie and fastened the two
together again.
"Roger! Stop that this instant! Or I'll have to spank you," I
said. But I left my hands together, not pulling them apart,
while we continued talking.
"Can you tolerate being bound again, the way you were when I
found you?" Roger asked. I hesitated; he continued. "If the
chains and hood are on you, but you're laying on the floor, I
think I can pull the rope taut when I see his car entering the
driveway. There would still be time for me to hide. Here's what
we'll do."
Eventually, reluctantly, I agreed. And so it was that after
Roger chiseled the remains of the old manacles from me, I brought
out some new ones -- sans any keys -- from the toybox. I
stalled, looking for every last excuse not to go through with it.
Was the kitchen properly cleaned up? Was Roger's car well-hid-
den? Finally, there was nothing left to prepare; it was time to
do it or flee. I went into my room and undressed, then headed
ba
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