You’re face down on my bed. I don’t have anything to tie your wrists with, but you immobilize your hands, without me asking, by shoving them under the pillow.

“Hold on a minute. Don’t move.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I snicker – the words sound so much cheesier spoken than typed, but they cause pleasure to thrum through me regardless.

I take my time and roam around the room. I make sure you can hear all my movements. The thud of my dresser drawer opening, the rattle of the belt buckle. You can’t see. You don’t know exactly what’s going to happen to you, and I don’t want you to. I want you to hear just enough to titillate. To keep you wondering.

I also want to stall for time. Standing naked next to the bed, belt in hand, glasses on so I can see what I’m doing and hair piled haphazardly on my head to keep it out of the way, I feel more than a little nervous...