It’s just a set of metal bars that actually looks rather homemade or like something you’d see in a gymnastics studio. There’s a hook hanging down attached to an adjustable chain. The metal is cool beneath my fingers as I grip the side and shake it back and forth, testing the stability. It’s quite sturdy. “So, based on your reaction last time, I made a few modifications.” “Thanks.” He positions me so that I’m standing beneath the hook, doing his best to keep his eyes from meeting mine. “Spread your feet, well beyond shoulder width.” At least I’m sure that I can do this now, because that really turned me on. “Good. Now put your hands together and raise them up over your head.” I hold that position as he adjusts the chain to the proper length. “Don’t move.” He’s over at a chest of drawers containing God knows what kind of torture implements. I’m thankful when he turns around, only holding a pair of lined handcuffs.
