Presumably it ended a few inches upmy ass where the contact between the cold metal and mywet bowels provided a wonderful connection. The otherlead was...submerged in a large cup of water. Ingenioussetup.Tim once again brought the cup of water up around mycock, this time including my balls as well. I watchedand held my breath as he began turning on the juice. Iwas surprised how high it got before I was aware ofthe buzzing and vibrating sensations. At the maximumlevel I experienced the pleasant. "Tim, quickly and gently, gave Joan a kiss on his lips. It feltgood, but brief. "I know who you are." How did you know my name?"Tim laughed loudly again, putting his head on the bar. "You areposted. You are beautiful and I want to be with you." P-posted?" Are you wearing the Joan Sissy 1000 now?"Joan Phillips recoiled at that. Am I a fucking slut celebrity?"N-no, I mean Yes. I am." Ahhh, I knew you were beautiful. Have you ever taken ten inchesof man?" No, Master Tim." Joan's eyes darted. * * *I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. I was lying on a slab. It wasn’t the room I’d been originally bathed in, but this room too contained a bath. My hands and legs were manacled, held fast together with chains.Another slave was watching. He saw me stir and helped me to the bath. It was breathtakingly cold, a welcome balm on the knot of agony in my back and the network of welts on my ass. I was again washed and oils were applied. Then the slave led me back to the slab. I. Cowboy was a six-and-a-half-foot black American stud, who was said to have been a pro basketball player of some note who had retreated to Bangkok in the face of possible charges for point shaving and racketeering.In Bangkok, Cowboy had built a small empire of girlie bars in the Phatpong tenderloin district, the most notable one of which was named, appropriately enough, Cowboy’s. By the 80s you could find a Cowboy-owned bar featuring every form of sexual interest you could think of in Bangkok,.