The toy bag

We're talking about what we like and what we've done.

He's telling me about rope, about cuffs, restraints, paddles and floggers.

I'm telling him about blindfolds, gags, hoods and bondage.

"I'd kind of like a gag," I hear myself say. "And I love blindfolds...and restraints..."

"Would you like to see my toy bag?" he says.

I agree, and soon I am reviewing a highly impressive set of canes, whips and floggers.

There's the soft suede flogger with the knotted ends, and the harsh leather flogger that must hurt like hell, and the rabbits' fur flogger that could warm things up and the braided leather coil flogger that Andre says he like to use "on pussy."

And then there's the hard plastic flogger that could easily leave marks, and two rattan canes, a bundled sheaf of softer twigs, and a whole assortment of paddles.

And the clover clamps, and the (ugh) clothes pins.

The pervertables--spoons, spatulas and plastic binders--and rope, yards of it, and a wand of cellophane for bondage wrapping.

"Wow," I say, and show him the mask, the butt plug and the dildo I've brought along, just in case.

He smiled and nods appreciatively.

"Just wait, " he says, a glint in his eye, "It is only going to get better."