If
I tilt my head just so, would you know to fall to your knees at my
feet? Would you know to surrender to me without question?

Good.

This one though, this one is different. As he approaches
he flicks a white fan closed and pockets it in his waist coat in the
sweeping way of a man who knows how to work a three piece suit. The
action raises a flush on my decolette and I’m grateful that I am
thoroughly buttoned up today. As long as the flesh on my cheeks
remain cool and pale, I will be fine. I will remain in control.

He
is standing right before me now – almost toe to toe. I pull back my
shoulders and look right up into his face, willing myself not to
break eye contact. But it is intense. He stares right back
unwavering, unmoving until, with an almost sleight of hand skill,
pulls out a pocket watch and glances at it.

“We’re late,” he says grabbing my wrist and pulling
me behind him on tripping heels.

In all my life I have never allowed someone to usher me
anywhere like this. I am furious, and yet, not. His stride is
enormous compared to my stuttering trot, my legs seemingly bound
together by my pencil skirt. My thighs rub together in a way that
highlights the fact that I am damp. Damn it. Where is my self
control?

My heel catches on an uneven flagstone and my ankle tips
painfully. He never breaks step – simply squeezes my hand more
firmly and tugs. I am breathless as I almost fall over, catching
furtive glances from onlookers who witness my stumbling.

“Where are we going?” I ask but he never looks back,
he just throws me a gruff comment over his shoulder.

“We’re late.”

It’s not edited yet so please be forgiving! 

I’ve added some drawings to my drawings page – take a look if you fancy x x x