I just want to fuck you, I can’t stop thinking about you there in your bed with your wrists tied. You are either on your back, asleep, your hands held in front of you, or on your side, your hands together by your face as if in prayer, you are made small by it, the tying, child-like and somehow innocent as you sleep. And if I was to come in and shove my hand over your mouth to shut you up, you wouldn’t realise or remember at first that you were tied, and you would have had a chance had you thought of it up-front, but you are half sleepy and not quite with it, so it is easy to pull your hands above your head and attach them to the bed frame...