I think in sepia tones as each restraint is attached, the feel of the rope causing my core to react.
There’s a semblance of normality in that as my body tries to be all that it was before.
He asks me “How does it feel, slut?”
and I tell Him “I love it, Sir”
and I truly do.
Here, I’m bound, to Him, to us, and also to the
hope that I haven’t completely lost the whole of who I am.