A few hours before I was to see him, we were discussing our evening. “Blowjobs, clowns, knives, and a cameo by Miss USA?” I asked.
“Two of those I can accomodate.”
“You have a clown?!”
Deviant tossed the leather pillow on to the floor and pointed to it. “Kneel.”
He placed onto me a set of heavy steel wrist cuffs, the type with a hinge that bind your wrists like handcuffs, wrapping each in thick, cold, metal, but still essentially being all one piece.
And then, he walked out of the room. Read the rest of this entry