‘The safe word is ‘strawberry’,’ I said quietly. ‘That’s right,’ Trish confirmed, nodding gently. ‘Strawberry, now stand up and get un...ressed.’ I don’t think I could have done it if Trish hadn’t ‘ordered’ me to do so but, with her dangling the wrist cuffs in front of me, we were straight into the role play and I ‘had no choice’. I guess this was the get out that I needed. My dithering and indecisiveness was now moot, Trish had made the decision and my job was to ‘obey’. Still shaking I stood up. And Pierce, my son, tall for his eight years, handsome, with dark hair, and dressed with elegance, he had with an affectionate smile, well educated, he went to his grandparents and greeted them as if he had known them all of a lifetime. His words carried emotion when he approached my mother, kissed her on the cheek and asked, "How are you dear Grandma", while turning around to shake my father's hand with his and asked, "And you, how are you grandpa"The polite attitude and gentle presence of his. More

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