I turn the vibe on, to a low setting, tracing my outline through the dampening fabric. Then pulling the crotch to one side, I make a show of sliding it inwards.
He sits, silently, watching me from his desk, chin propped on his hand, face unamused.
Standing suddenly, he strides across the room and grabs me by a wrist, pulling me up, then propels me forwards, through the door of the mirrored room. Leaning me over the end of the bed, he pushes me down, roughly.
“Bend over."
“Master?"
“Do as you´re told. Bend over."
Beginning to worry, I lean over the foot of the bed. My Master extracts cuffs from a drawer; not the usual fur-lined, leather cuffs I am accustomed to, but plain, steel cuffs which click tightly shut around my wrists, and then around the bedposts.
He shoves my ankles apart;
