She then closed the door behindher and leaned on it. "So, I'm not exactly sure how to ask this, but...are those my pantyhose that you're wearing?" I l...oked down and realizedthat she could see my ankles, despite the slippers. I was mortified!What's worse is that she was blocking the only way out. Sheepishly, Ireplied, "Look, I don't normally do this, it's just that...." The smirknever left her face. "Answer the question. Are those my pantyhose?" Icouldn't even look her in the eyes. "Yes. They're. Now get your ass out!" Please... Michelle walked to the phone and told the operator to connect her to the police."I'll go," he said meekly. He didn't want to lose his job by sitting in jail with the publicity that he was a wife beater. He went upstairs to pack. He spent an hour putting his things together. When he came downstairs, Michelle had written him a note with a check for five hundred dollars."This is to keep you until you can live on your own," she sneered at him. With that, he walked. On the inside this held true aswell. It was tiny, granted, but my cell was well equipped with a bookcase,rug, Lazy-Boy chair, small fridge and a heating plate. But my cell was nodifferent than any other cell on this wing of this country club likeprison. There were downsides. The golf clubs were, insulting, made ofplastic, as real ones were weapons and all, but at least I could practiceputting.The guard for this block handed me fresh eggs and vegetables for my Sundayomelet prep tomorrow. ?You. Now?” She says with a hint of frustration.“Should I?” I grin as I sit down briefly on the edge of the bed watching her facial expressions. She seems shocked at first, then it’s like I can see her trying to process what I said. Then it switches to an offended expression. I’m not sure if she even knows what she’s trying to think.“Just fucking untie me! You’ve left me in here tied up like a damn hog all night!” She states. Her southern twang becoming more noticeable as her frustration grows.I tilt.