I lay there, bound for you. Exposed. Only for you…always for you. I hear your footsteps as you walk over to the bed and observe the work you’ve done. As you admire the way the rope holds me in its unrelenting grasp, I can hear your exhale o...

f breath. I can almost feel it against my flesh. Your subtle movements echo against the walls of the room, and the only other sounds are my quiet, hopeful breaths. You lean down, and I feel your lips against my ear.

“Do you feel helpless, lying there on the bed, bound and at the mercy of my touch?” You ask me. You don’t ask because you are curious. You ask because you need to hear me vocalize the answer. I gaze into your deep eyes, the ones that command without words, and adore without a sound. Softly I reply,

“Yes, Sir."