Chapter Seventeen
More memories of time in my cell.
“Are you trying to move your hand, Bobby? Your right hand? It’s well strapped down, as I am sure you have realized by now. A woman has you completely restrained and you’ll only move it when she releases you. Would you like it to be released?”
“Yes, ma’am. I would like it to be released.”
“Why, Bobby? What would you do with that hand? Just your right hand? That’s all?”
“Yes, Miss Denise.”
“Why, I want to know why?”
“I would like to stroke my penis.”
“Your erect p***s. In front of me you would do that, Bobby? Before a woman you would wantonly play with yourself like a naughty boy?”
Her tone was straightforward, tinged with mocked surprise... naïveté... seeming to motivate a response She was accomplished in encouraging the words to
