I didn'tthink the bar where we'd met Chet was Gentry's kind of place. Or Chet's.Not after that ...Unless, a troubling thought returned, he'd seen me, ...anted me, for what Iwas, instead of what I'd hoped he'd see.What was that, anyway?I sat there in my skirt and blouse and knew I needed to know more, a lotmore, about him.And more about myself. Or maybe not myself, maybe about this personsitting here upon this sofa. I flicked, again, the stray hairs the floateddown my cheek, I rubbed my temples. ??? One night I got acrazy idea and wondered what I could do to torture my cock more than I do. Iwondered what it would feel like to kneel down and put my cock in an anthill.The more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it. Yes I am into self-bondageand love to torture myself. Well, the next day I went out back and spotted somesmall and large anthills. I marked them with a little flag on a short wire. Ithen set out to build a trap for my cock so I couldn?t get away too soon. Itook a 2x4. More

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