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Possessive Habits

When my red heels click cruelly against the marble floor you shudder. Just a little. You reach for your forehead to wipe nervous sweat off your brow but find that you are constrained. You had forgotten you would be tied up when you awoke. Good. That was the idea. Just enough slack to let you think you have some form of control. Not enough for you to do anything at all.

Click. Shudder. Click.

The arch of my back is exaggerated as I spin myself 180 degrees so I have my back to you. Just out of range of your excited and frustrated grasp I begin to twist my waist side to side with wide circular motions. I want to look over my shoulder to see your expression, but I don’t need to. You want me. Just that knowledge is enough to urge me on. “You promised…” your voice cracks…

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