This is how it begins. He asks me to stand before him in my lace underwear, high heels, hose and bra. He sits in a chair and watches closely as I disrobe, making approving noises, even winking to put me at ease. "Turn around please," he says and then, "Yes, right there. Stop there." Even though we've been married for over three years, I've never done anything like this sober. I don't know what to do, or where to put my hands. Without the buzz and fog of alcohol, I am clumsy and giggly and awkward.
He handcuffs me to the bed, and whispers into my ear, "I'm going to take you now because you're my woman. All mine. Do you understand?"