My Imaginary Friend asks me to wear his favourite black negligee and my 5-inch black heels. Nothing else.
I remind him that they are 6-inch heels.
'No more, no less what I would be expecting from you, my girl. You have been teasing me long enough. It is time I reminded you of the roles we agreed, the functions we established. If you so stubbornly refuse to absorb Mr Nice into your life, I shall fill it up with my own demands.'
'Does that involve the use of your leather belt?' I ask.
'You'll only know if you slip your wrists inside the loop and wait to see how tight I can pull it.'
'Will you leave marks?'
'The bare necessary for you to feel a pain, which will be sublimated by you, as it will be suffered for my pleasure.'
Red creases on my skin. A delightful reminder. Innocent enough to go unnoticed, and naughty plenty for me to remember.
'You'll have to tell me where I am.'
He slides his belt off. 'I will. Don't worry. It will be our own special room.'
