Chapter Seven
Mrs. Fenwick offers to pour more tea and I politely decline. She smiles and pushes a button near the telephone.
I glance to see Henry still calmly hanging. With his ankles cuffed together behind the pole his hips are thrust forward seeming to project his massive erection into the center of the room. His posture reminds me of the wooden maidens mounted on the bow of old sailing ships, except such were scantily clad. Henry is completely nude.
Other imaginary comparisons come to mind, such as the gargoyles seen on buildings of fifteenth century architecture.
Mrs. Fenwick notices that my attention is diverted. She jiggles the cord and smiles as Henry waggles his p***s in reaction, seeming to return the greeting of my eyes. Incredibly, he has been erect for just over two hours
