He waits for ... something. Neither of us gives it to him.“I just don’t want there to be,” he starts again. “ ... hard feelings.”I swirl the...bourbon in the glass. Look down at it. Hear her breath under the music. I can always hear her breathe. It’s the heartbeat in every conversation we’ve ever had. I see her scrunch her toes on the carpet, most likely cold. And anxious.Can we just speak plain?“Don’t worry about that at all,” I reassure him. “I want this to happen. Please accept this as a. “I'm ready,” she murmured.He took a shuddering breath, pleased beyond articulation that she had offered herself up to him first.With finality, he drew her up from the floor. “Stretch,” he instructed as he went to retrieve rope from the playroom.Clarice relished these few moments alone, to prepare herself mentally for what she would endure, to ready her limbs against the sweet pressure of his sublime suspension techniques to which she would be submitted and bound. She shook out her arms, rolling. More

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