FOR WEEKS AFTER THE FIRST TIME THEY PLAYED, JOSIE FELT AS IF a magic wand had touched each of her nerve endings and made them vibrate. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she would reach below the bed where she had hidden one of the wrist restraints and finger the leather, stroke the silver loops and buckles, and feel the world grow brighter, louder, overstimulating.

And yet, she was also aware that these toys might not have been purchased for her. She wondered how many girls there were before her, how many he had tied to the wall, how many had felt the same leather explosion on their backsides. A lot, she thought, probably a lot, but she was too afraid to ask. It made her stomach churn, and she tried to tell herself that everyone had a past, but the idea didn’t make her feel better, and instead she decided that perhaps what came before didn’t matter now, that the world had begun that night at the dinner party.