Slow Cuffs and Softer Demands

He takes his time with the restraints, making sure she feels every deliberate second. When he finally leans close, the tenderness is more disarming than any command.

The cell is quiet, just the creak of the chair as I circle you.
Hands behind the back of the chair. Slowly.
Okay.
I fasten the cuffs with deliberate care, testing the give.
Not too tight. I want you to feel them, not fight them.
They feel warm.
I crouch in front of you, thumb brushing your wrist.
Good. Now tell me what you're thinking. And don't look away.
That you're gentler than you sound.
A low hum, almost a laugh.
Careful. Say that again and I'll have to prove you wrong.
You won't.

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