She was always joking about being my prisoner.The next morning I was seated beside the General on his back veranda sipping an iced orange juice lased ...ith vodka. Ten feet out on the stone patio were two heavy metal posts, with a taught chain running between them. The chain was four or so feet above the ground. On her knees was a prisoner; her big new steel nipple rings were locked to the chain. The fresh two-inch nipple rings embedded deep behind each stiff nipple still showed spots of blood.. What really turns me on isn't the forcedones but where the protagonist is made to confront his own desires, whathe really wants, to admit to himself that this is what he craves,needs...and finally gives into his desires. How wonderful to meet someonewho would go on that journey with me, perhaps to discover their owndesires in the process!Veronica to Lyon:I couldn't agree more, being forced does nothing for me, I much preferthe seduction approach.Giving in to my perversions to see another man. More

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