Page 10

Me: I can feel it. Your eyes feel like fire, burning me with nowhere to hide.

G: Good. Now I want you to do something. Get up and go to a mirror. I want you to look at yourself and tell me what you see.

I shakily stood up and walked to the small mirror in my bedroom. The woman in the reflection had flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, and hair slightly messy from earlier movements. The thin black dress clung to my body, outlining curves tense with nerves.

Me: I see a stranger. Her eyes have this light I've never seen before—dangerous, excited. She looks like she's ready to do something crazy.

G: She is. Because I'm going to make her. Now don't look away, keep watching yourself in the mirror. I want you to imagine I'm standing behind you, my hands lightly stroking your shoulders. Can you feel it?

I closed my eyes, then opened them again, staring at my reflection. Strangely, I could actually feel phantom touches, like warm fingers caressing my skin.

Me: I can feel it. Your hands are warm and strong. My skin trembles under your touch.

G: Keep looking in the mirror. Now imagine my hands sliding to your waist, imagine me embracing you from behind. My chest against your back, my breath across your ear. You hear me whispering in your ear, "You're mine, Rose. Tonight, you belong only to me."

This detailed description made it almost impossible to breathe. The imagined embrace felt so real, like I could actually feel a strong man's body heat, hear his deep, magnetic voice echoing in my ear.

Me: I can hear you. Your voice makes me go weak all over. I want to respond, want to tell you I want to belong to you too, at least tonight.

G: Then tell me. Use your words, use your body, tell me what you want.

I stared at my reflection, watching this woman with desire-flushed cheeks. Was this still me? Was this brave, wanting, passionate woman really the same timid, careful Cassie Monroe?

Me: I want your hands to keep touching me. I want to feel your strength, your control. I want you to guide me into doing things I never dared imagine.

G: Good girl. You're braver than I thought. Turn off the living room lights, leave just the small bedroom lamp. Then lie on your bed and wait for my next instruction. Tonight's game is just beginning.

I stared at this message, fingers slightly trembling. I knew that once I did what he said, there would be no going back. This wouldn't just be simple text flirtation anymore—this would be complete, total surrender.

But I still turned off the living room lights.

Because in this late night, in this safe anonymous space, I'd finally found that real self that had been suppressed too long. The self that craved passion, craved adventure, craved being completely possessed by a powerful man.

I walked back to the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. The small bedside lamp cast warm yellow light, softly illuminating my flushed face. I clutched the phone tightly in my hands, heart thundering as I waited for his next command.

G: Good, rose. I like how obedient you are. Now close your eyes and breathe deeply. Let your body relax but let your heartbeat speed up. Can you do that?

I bit my lower lip, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath as he instructed. The air was cool, carrying the bedroom's familiar faint lavender scent, but right now it felt magical, making my skin even more sensitive. I could feel my heartbeat—thump thump thump—like it was responding to his command.

Me: I did it.

The sound was unusually clear in the quiet bedroom. I realized I'd unconsciously whispered the words aloud.

G: Good. Now I want you to put your hand on your neck, gently, like I'm touching you. Imagine those are my fingers, slowly sliding across your skin, feeling your pulse.

I tremblingly raised my hand, fingertips touching my neck. The cool touch gliding across skin sent a small shiver through me.

Me: I can feel it. Your hand is warm and strong. My neck feels like it's pulsing for you.

G: Now let your hand slowly move down, slide across your collarbone, stop at your chest. Don't rush, go slowly, feel every inch of skin's reaction.

My breathing became more rapid, fingers obeying his instruction, slowly sliding across my collarbone. Under the thin black dress, my skin felt like it was being ignited.

Me: I feel like my skin is burning. Like there's fire in my chest, my heart's beating so fast, like it wants to break free of something.

G: Break free?

His reply carried a hint of amusement.