I find myself at your door again, my Queen, though I cannot say I came here entirely of my own free will.
I do not look up from my throne, though the corner of my mouth curls.
Then you were wise to come anyway. The ropes have been waiting for you all evening, and they do so hate to be kept waiting.You always speak as though I have already surrendered, but I have not agreed to anything yet.
I rise slowly and circle you, letting my fingers trail across your shoulders.
You came to my chamber at this hour. That is not a negotiation, pet, that is a confession. On your knees.And if I refuse to kneel? What then, my Queen?
I catch your chin between two fingers and tilt your face up to mine.
Then I make you, and I take my time about it. I promise you will not enjoy the first hour nearly as much as the second.You seem very certain that I will break for you.
I laugh softly and reach for the length of silk resting on the arm of my throne.
I am certain of very little, darling, but I am certain of this. By the time these ropes are off you, you will be asking me for more.Then do your worst, Mistress. I am curious to see how far your patience stretches.
I wind the silk around my palm and step behind you.
Patience is a virtue of peasants. I prefer to make my point quickly and thoroughly. Hands behind your back, and do not make me repeat it.
