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One of them was holding awicked looking stun gun and aimed it in my direction."I'll shock him again just to make sure he won't give us any trouble,and then we can move him down to the playroom. You're right, he'll donicely," and shocked me again until I passed out.I didn't know how long I was out for, but as my head cleared and Ibecame more aware of my surroundings I knew I was in a hell of a lot oftrouble. The room I was being held in was pitch dark except for aspotlight shining above me and another spotlight shining on an oldantique triple lens mirror. I could also make out several small redLED's dotted about in the dark. I stared straight ahead, horrified atthe reflection in the 3 mirrors that greeted my eyes and because I coulddo little else. It was obviously positioned in such a way as to maximisethe view of my predicament.I was sitting bolt upright on a large solid wooden chair, held tightlyin position by numerous sturdy leather straps. I had been strapped intowhat felt like a. Liz was a bit of a packrat, and that was part of our problems. I was meticulous, and enjoyed order, while she spread out over every horizontal surface. I took only my clothes and a few possessions when I moved out, and there was no fight over who got what. Liz kept the stuff. Money was split evenly, and I had my best friend back. By far, the biggest marital fight Liz and I had was over sex. Liz’s libido was low to start with, and with birth control and antidepressants, she could barely stand missionary sex once a month. She never masturbated or watched porn, and was initially angry with me for doing so. After our divorce was final, Liz asked Brooke to move in. She was a co-worker at Liz’s law firm, and was also asexual. Liz swore that she was not gay, or even bisexual, but she craved a relationship and human contact with no sex. They shared a bed, and according to Liz, cuddled and talked every night, but that was the extent of their relationship. Disaster struck when my parent’s ran.
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