“What is this?” I asked, sipping the scotch my date had just poured me as I perused the décor of her condo.
“That is where I display my special slaves,” she said from across the parlor, as she finished pouring a drink for herself.
Up until that point it had been a very good date, which for me is saying something. A man does not get to my age as a bachelor without racking up a lot of dating experience, and I had not been so turned on by someone I had just met for a very long time. The mention of “slaves” was the first warning sign I had encountered, and it made me turn, just to make sure I had heard her right. Doing so gave me another look at her gorgeous legs and shapely ass, as she faced away toward a sideboard that held her liquor and glassware. Read more…
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Fletcher looked at the tape held in his hands, an old VHS cassette, marked: “Marquesa- Session 1.” Dr. Gomez, his supervisor, had expressly warned him that this material was off limits in general, much less to junior residents. Fletcher had only been working at the Kleinman Center for the Study of Human Sexuality for two weeks. He had learned of the existence of the tapes just three days ago. But since then the curiosity had been building inside him uncontrollably. 
