She had high heels. Her black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, with a few strands hanging on the sides, framing her freckled, dimpled fa...e. She also had a necklace and a bracelet and a nose ring glinting sliver.“You’re beautiful,” he said at a stoplight.“I know, but the plan was for me to dress slutty. This isn’t slutty.”He laughed again. “You’re nervous.”“Well, wouldn’t you be?”“Don’t be nervous.” He shrugged. “We had a threesome before.”“Yeah, with one other guy.”“Still a group.. I kept my eyes closed as the movie continued. I might have killed a guy, I thought. No, I corrected mentally, I might have killed two men – one with a rock and another with my bare hands (or at least a bare arm). I remembered the sounds and the smells. The guy I grabbed around the neck had severe body odor. I hadn’t noticed when I was choking the life out of him but I remembered it now.I remembered Liz crouching in front of me. I smiled slightly. At the time, I didn’t pay attention to the fact. The reason that we became acquainted was that she needed some remodeling done around her suburban house, and I was laid off at the time. I was a prototype car builder, and the economy wouldn't support a full year's activity at that time. Jo, my wife described some of the home remodeling work that I had done in the past, and it sparked Nam Hui's interest. I didn't know at the time, but Nam Hui has a fetish for hands-on craftsmen. She loves the feel of strong, callused hands on her, and she. We walk to the table. A nice, black lacquer table. She leads me right to it, legs touching the edge. Handcuffs and the keys are laying there, soft silver in the dim light.She snaps her fingers. My arms move slowly behind me, my wrists cross each other. I feel an icy coldness. The handcuffs. I listen to the clicking as it closes around my wrists. I look at the keys, watching them drowsily.The sub space creeps in. Fading the harsh edges of my day away. Limiting me to just the here and now..
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