The room is dark. She cannot see - only a tiny slant of light comes in past the edge of a curtain. Her hands are tied and her mouth covered; as she sits, the air is warm against her skin.
She has no idea where she is; there seems to be a bench under her. She can twist her fingers to touch it and it's slightly rough - like velvet.
The room smells of incense; musky. She listens. In the distance, she can hear music - and traffic. In here, it's quiet.
A door opens and - click! - quietly closes. Soft footfalls approach her across the carpet.
He approaches quietly, not wanting to startle her.
He moves round her, admiring the ties on her hands. He can feel her eyes, but he doesn't glance up. Not yet. He walks over to the window, gently parting the curtain with a black-gloved hand. He lets it fall, leaving only a tiny shaft of light, like a blade across the room.
He turns back.
He strokes his eyes across her body. From her feet neatly together in her high heels, up her long legs, across her body and over the small, tight breasts that point hard nipples through her blouse. Then he looks straight at her.
He smiles. He reaches out his hand and strokes her hair.
She cannot see him clearly, only the light picking out the lines of his face, his garments, as he moves.
As he comes close, makes contact, she flinches - she cannot help herself - but she is looking up at him and her gaze doesn't leave his face.
Her breathing is short. He can feel that she is trembling.
He gently strokes her face and throat. He can feel her shaking.
'If I take off your gag,' he says, 'Do you promise to do exactly as I say?'
She feels the touch of his gloves and catches her breath.
She nods.
'I'm going to free your legs first, and then your mouth. Your hands will stay tied.'
He reaches down and unties her feet. The bonds loosen and she moves her feet to feel the blood flow.
He takes her face in his hands, turns her head, unties her gag. As it comes away, he hears her try to control her breathing.
He says, 'Are you ready to please me?'
For a moment, she licks her lips and moves her mouth to ease the stiffness in her jaw.
'Yes,' she whispers.
He is assessing her, she can feel his eyes touching her like cool, casual fingertips. She is nervous – feeling his presence and control. What if she fails?
She asks him, 'What must I do?'
He takes her elbow and stands her up like a toy.
Putting his hands on her waist, he turns her around and tells her to kneel down.
She does as she's told and drops to her knees.
He says, 'Rest your head on the bench.'
She rests her head on the velvet seat and stretches her tied hands in front of her.
