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k what he was going to do, what this test business was.
He took my hand gently and stood up, waiting for me. He held my
hand by my fingertips as though he were going to be gallant and kiss
it, and when I got to my feet he held it as though I were Cinderella
stepping down from 's coach.
The chair was ordinary, but seemed enormous when I sat in it. My
toes barely reached the floor. It occurred to me that it looked a bit
like one of those old-fashioned Hollywood electric chairs--the kind
they executed James Cagney in so many times.
He sat on the foot of the bed in front of me and showed me a roll
of black tape. The kind electricians use. He peeled off about a foot
and held it across my wrist.
I could see he was going to tape my wrists to the arms of the
chair. He didn't wrap it around, though, he just held it there and
looked at me for a reaction. I was scared. I couldn't help it. Even
though I trust him completely, we had never done anything like this
before. I guess I was seeing a side of him that was completely new,
and I immediately thought of hidden psychoses and serial killers and
ritual murders with candles and Charles Manson and I was a million
miles from home and nobody knew where I was a
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