I arranged my hair into a tight lacquered bun; my husband prefers my hair to look wet and severe. I dressed slowly, waiting for my his return. It was theatre night, and I was dressing as ordered: black leather corset, cinched tight to 18 inches, black fishnet stockings and black stiletto heels. I was to wear no panties. I finished by slipping into a tight black silk dress, very high on my thighs.
I poured my self a cognac from the decanter on the sideboard, and opened the french doors to the balcony. Central Park was busy with activity below me, and I leaned over the rail and watched the traffic slip down Fifth Avenue. I sipped the cognac; it warmed my throat and then my tummy... I felt constricted and awkward in my corset. It began to rain and I returned to inside; just as I closed the doors I heard voices in the entryway. My heart began to beat more quickly!
Karl entered and put his briefcase on an end table. A tall muscular man was with him; his skin was pitch black.
"You've had a drink! Then I will have one too." The men turned their backs to me, and the black man shook his head no and laughed. "Fine," said Karl, and they turned towards me.
"Joseph," he said, "this is Toni." He gestured toward me and sat down in a leather recliner. "Have a seat there, on the sofa."
Karl took a sip of his cognac. "You," he said, looking at me, "stand before him."
