I also leaned back in my chair. I wondered whether to use the silent ploy again, but I wasn’t sure if it would work this time. “Amy,” I began firmly. “You’ve no reason to believe me. But on the other hand I have no reason to lie – at least not in this way. If I was going to make up a lie about a deviant s*x life, why would I paint myself as a s*x slave? Surely I’d invent a story where I was a Master for some harem of half a dozen beautiful girls that were my slaves. That would be just as interesting, but a lot more macho.” I paused to let the words sink in.
“But the reality is,” I continued, “that I allow my Mistress and her girlfriend to treat me as a s*x slave. And one of their most potent ways to control me is that they deny me s****l gratification by keeping me locked in a plastic cha
