"I'm sorry," he said with a grin. "That's OK," Sarah, said, "I can see that it was a labor of love for you." "Not really," he answered, "It was really...therapy." Sarah could sense the deep pain he felt over the breakup of his marriage. She wondered how many devils she carried around in her own head. "I noticed the heat vents are in the ceiling, isn't that the wrong place for them?" she asked. Ed smiled, "The vents are only for the air conditioning, the heat is in the floor." "The house is heated. He’d arranged her on the table. Days had turned into weeks of seduction- no- not seduction- nurturing- nurturing thoughts- planting seeds. He’d made nuances turn to notions. Turn to fantasy. Then to structured thoughts. Then to precise, urgent, needs.Her nipples ache. Erectile tissue does its job, and in her personal midnight recollective cinema, she shudders as she sighs. She rubs her wrists. The marks have gone now, but phantom ropes still grip and bite her now, and that cunt Pavlov does his. More

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