(He hangs suspended by a harness from the ceiling. She is dressed explicitly by orders from him, Bruce, her client. A feathered blonde wig, a "costume" from the early 80's. Nails done. She is dressed as the first girl he had ever loved.)
Desire fades you know...
(She is yelling up at him, Bruce is hanging 6 ft up in the air, his arms splayed, his torso and legs supported. It was from a tall ceiling; the room was gothic, really, appropriate with ornate radiators, somber yet extravagant furnishings, poly-fiber suspension unit attached securely from the ceiling.) touching him every now and then with a slender riding crop)
Desire fades and then it's like who cares?
I don't really even remember your face!
Your dumb face!
Your dumb face!
Or how you kissed OR how you made that ridiculous expression that I probably used to find
("no, no," he mutters, craving the crop and licking his lips and feeling his heart constrict and his brow secrete ugly little sweaty's all at the same time.)
Oh, the hell with you little man. Yeah that's all are you are to me now a LITTLE MAN. That pathetic card you tried to send to me last christmas? I got it. Yes. And you know what? I tore it shreds and then pissed on it!!
("oh Carol." he moaned. "you don't mean it, you don't. Think about what we meant to each other. We were going to LIVE together. We were supposed to get MARRIED." he writhed in his restraints.)
Ha! you think I ever would have actually married you! You twerp, I just dated you so we could fuck.
(in a completely different voice, "Bruce, you did say you guys fucked right?" "Yes, yes!" he replied sobbing. "Ok sure," she said. "just checking.")
Yes it was just to have SEX. Ha! And now, you smelly, smelly worm, I am happily married, ecstatically happy, with 4, no 5 kids! And a house! And, and, a lawnmower!
("oh Carol. OH CAROL.")
(At the end of the session, Bruce paid Marcia (mar-see-uh) her money. As he left the building, he wondered what Carol was really doing now, just this minute.