“Well we didn’t talk about it all the time, but on occasion especially if you two were going away for a weekend or had just come back, she would hint at how non-traditional you could be. I wish Bill were a little more daring. Don't get me wrong, he knows how to scratch my itch, but he’s a little conservative sometimes.” “Kathy, I didn’t know you had a wild side. I always thought you were a ‘proper girl'. What sort of wild and wonderful things are missing in your life?” I knew this was a dangerous path, but I was horny as hell and she started it. “I don’t know that I have any real burning desires. It’s just things with Bill are just very predictable. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to do something crazy, something unexpected, something a little risky and naughty.” “Go on,” I coached. Then she just stopped dead in her tracks looked straight ahead and said nothing. I though I’d pushed the limits too far and that the next three hours were going to be long and awkward. “Do you. And now, in the deafening anticipation of her bondage on the eighth floor of a downtown Hilton, she realized they had been expecting her. They knew exactly who she was. They knew what she was for. They knew she was a plaything, a slut to be used. They knew she had come for them, even if she hadn’t yet known it herself.But she knew it now. She existed for them.The creak of a hotel room door. The shuffle of footsteps. The murmur of men. Jack, offering drinks. And, in the quiet spaces, the delicate undertow of classical cello.Time passed quickly or slowly. She didn’t know. It had been weeks or seconds. Delicate cello seemed to rub into oblivion, dancing around her captivity, suspended in time.Click of the door. The murmurs grew louder. She could feel a huddle of men behind her. She could almost see them in the door frame. Laughter. Her heart raced.She realized all at once her hips were thrusting, her throat was moaning.Approaching footsteps. But just one set, she thought. She couldn’t.
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