Hotscribe

It’s late at night. As you unlock the door to your apartment, you wish that somehow you’d gotten home earlier but, of course, with all the heavy traffic and the fog— Well, it feels good to be back anyways. The return trip was long and tiring; it’ll be good to have a hot shower, then curl up in the covers of your bed for a long well-needed sleep. You turn on the lights, close and lock the door. You take your coat off, hang it up in the closet. You sniff the air. Strange how an apartment left for a period of time always acquires an odd smell–not always unpleasant, but certainly stale. ...

You greet me at the bathroom door. You’re dressed in a short tank top that just barely covers your full breasts, and a pair of panties. You already look ravishing. Wordlessly, you step back and wait until I remove my clothes, then, as per our previous arrangement (you are not allowed to say anything)–you hold out your hands to me, wrist against wrist. I reach into a bag I’ve brought with me and remove a small length of soft cord. I wrap it around your wrists. ...

I’m taking some more photographs of you in my studio where my assistant, Duke, is arranging various props and set pieces. He’s a young man in his early twenties, handsome and eager to learn the business. You’re dressed in a blouse and wrap-around skirt. As he works around you, setting things up, I notice you watching him closely, then I see you bend over slightly to let your breasts brush lightly against his arm. When he looks up at you, you give him a smile, pouting your lips in a seductive way. ...