. and wanting. I gasp and let out a sharp cry as I feel the first touch of something, more shock than pain. My mind processes the feeling, the sensa...ion, and I realize it is a light touch, feathery, sleek. It could, indeed, be a feather... or fringe of a blanket... perhaps his hair. I can only imagine, not determine, as the touches and teases continue. The feathery feeling is gone now, replaced with something cold and wet... an ice cube? a popscicle? his fingers, dipped in ice water? . He alternated between trying to reasonwith this woman to help him from whatever trap this was and trying tostruggle free. An unreasonable assumption that some giant spider wouldappear and devour him seemed to avert his attention from her beauty."I am your spider, my dear."She did not mean literally. Giant spiders do not exist, even in Texas.She had called him to become her new familiar. Hers had met with anunfortunate demise. Now she needed a new one. A whip is produced, andshe cuts him down. More

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