The hanky went into the washer, which made a nice vibration indeed when combined with that of the dryer. I held the clothesline taut again. Gerth was still watching me out of the corner of his eye. "I think I'll have to test this," I said.

It's amazing how, even under a sixty-watt bulb in a dark basement, you can tell when a guy goes pale. "Oh?" Gerth said in his Wonder Bread voice that had no doubt fooled Jessie for the first three years of their marriage. "How so?"

"I need your help. Come here." I let my voice grow peremptory, just to check. I wasn't surprised to see Gerth brighten. I took him firmly by the arm and pulled him over so that his back was against the pole. "Hold onto this," I said, handing him the end of the line. "No, wait let's make this a proper test." I took back the line and began looping it around Gerth's wrist.

He forgot to breathe. He also forgot to ask me why a "proper test" required that his wrist be bound. He simply stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, like someone who has just won the million-dollar lottery.

The test consisted of me tying his hands behind the pole and seeing if he could break the line. Since the line was long, I tied his feet to the pole for good measure. He gave the line a token tug and said, "I'm not sure."

"Wait." I walked over to the drawer and rummaged around for a moment. Then I returned to where Gerth stood, tied to the pole.

He stared at the bike chain in my hand. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Stuff it in your mouth," I suggested with a smile. Then I regretted my remark as Gerth paled again. It was too early for him to panic. I said soothingly, "Just joking. Here, hold this." I reached round and placed the chain in his hand, wondering whether he would drop it. He clung to it like he was a small boy holding his father's hand. I placed the second clothesline in my empty pocket to have it out of the way, then began unbuttoning Gerth's shirt.

"What are you doing?" It was nearly a scream. If I touched his belt, he'd start howling louder than the Lawnville fire siren. Fortunately, I wasn't planning to go that far.

"You look hot," I said. "I just want to make sure you don't get overheated." I pulled back the shirt, letting my hands brush over Gerth's chest. Nothing special there: a bit of hair, some tits that were puckered from the cold. But the stomach was nice and flat, and would look even nicer once I was through.

He didn't say anything as I looped the second line round the back of the pole, tight across his forearms, and then tighter across his stomach. I tugged hard, and his chest began to struggle for breath. I glanced quickly at his face to make sure I wasn't taking him too far. His expression looked dazed, not doubtful. As for his crotch, I'd already figured out that that part of him was having the time of its life.

"Have you done this with anyone before?" I asked conversationally as I finished the knot.

He hesitated, then asked, "Done what?"

I slapped him. It wasn't one of those slaps you see in the movies, where the villain hits the heroine to the ground, then goes off-camera to have his hand X-rayed for fractures. It was just a nice, easy, open-palmed slap that left Gerth's head turned ninety degrees from where it had been before. He gave a yelp that left my own crotch warm.

"Don't fuck with me," I growled, clamping his jaw with my hand and pulling his face round toward me. "When I ask a question, I expect to be answered. Tell the truth, or I'll—"

I stopped, not to be dramatic, but because alarm bells were going off in my head. I don't know what trick other tops use to tell the difference between play fear and real terror. All I know is that I can always tell when I've gone too far.

"Or you'll what?" he whispered. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he was beginning to shiver. Probably it was the shivering that had clued me in.

"Or I'll let you go," I said simply and released his jaw. I waited.

His gaze dropped. He swallowed. I spent the next minute looking at his nice flat stomach and the nice indentation the rope made in it. Then he looked up and asked softly, "What was the question?"

"Sir."

He didn't get it. I had to spell it out for him. He swallowed again, then whispered, "What was the question, sir?"

I asked him again, and this time I got his life story. I could have written it up beforehand, from my own memories. The childhood secret of self-bondage that was carefully hidden from his parents, the teen years of wondering why making out with gorgeous dates didn't get him hard . . . Hell, he even matched me with his night-before-the-wedding agony over whether to go through with it.

At least I'd had enough sense not to show up at the altar. Even Carl admitted that within a few years, though our MCC pastor still isn't speaking to me.

I cut Gerth off when he began to explain painstakingly that the divorce had been his idea, in order to save Jessie from the consequences of living with a pervert. "So you never asked her to tie you up?" I said.

He stared at me as though he had just discovered that I was My Favorite Martian. Then he said faintly, "No, sir. I wouldn't make her do anything like that."

"And it didn't occur to you to look for someone to do this with once she was gone?"

Again he stared. "I didn't Sir, I thought I was the only one like this."

Not a TV watcher at all, then. I gave him a slow smile as a reward for his honesty. "Well," I said, "then it's lucky for you that I live just down the street."

He looked uneasy rather than pleased. I guessed it was because of the close connection between my question about Jessie and my statement about myself. I decided I really didn't want to start him thinking; he might spell out the letters BI in his head and get in a panic again. Instead, I took the bike chain back and proceeded to bind the upper part of his arms. I let the chain dig into his chest just below his nipples; it would make a beautiful pattern-work afterwards for him to admire.

The dryer beeped. About time. I pulled open the door, and after short search I found the dress-sock. It was long enough for my purposes. I held it up for his inspection.

He got it right away this time, and I saw the fear re-enter his eyes. I sighed, then leaned forward to murmur in his ear. "Look," I said, "we've lived near each other for more than a year now, and I've had you over to my house loads of times. Have I ever screwed you over? I mean, really screwed you over?"

He didn't say anything at first. Perhaps it was due to the fact that my hard cock was now pressing against his, leaving no doubt that this was a game of mutual enjoyment. On reflection, I decided that "screwed" was a poor choice of words. But after a minute he said, "It's okay. It's just . . . I'm new to this, sir."

"I'm taking that into account," I assured him, and proceeded to blindfold him. Then I stepped back to admire the sight.

Something about that sixty-watt bulb made Gerth look better than if we'd been doing this upstairs. The light threw shadows onto his body, highlighting the way the clothesline dug into his skin at the stomach, at the ankles, twice around the arms, and, I knew, around the wrists. The line would be biting into him in all these spots, surpassed only by the cold chain grinding into his chest. Gerth stood upright, sweat still pouring down from his forehead and soaking the blindfold that he stared blankly into.

Nearly perfect. I still had some clothesline left over.

He yipped when I passed the clothesline under his crotch, carefully positioning the line to dig between his balls. "What—"

"Shut up," I said in a warning voice. Actually, I like a little feedback when I work, but I didn't want this to get out of hand. He needed to remember what this was about. Just to make sure he did, I finished off the knot at his waist and then tweaked his left tit.

He gave a screech. "What the hell are you—?"

I slapped him again, this time with the back of my hand. Fortunately, I always keep my nails trimmed. "You don't say no to me," I told him, letting my voice go very deep. "You say, 'Yes, sir,' or you answer my questions. Or you say, 'Let me go,' and I do, and this is over. But as long as you're mine, you don't question what I do."