That's your play-dead trick, the command that makes you eagerly flop to the ground wherever you are and wait in delight for me to play with your soft, relaxed body. But this time, nothing happens at first. You just wait, motionless, listening with your eyes closed for me to pounce.
But it keeps going. The ache of need grows in your core, between your legs, and you're tempted to whine or look around. It sounds like I haven't moved, I must still be standing over you, looking down at your body.
You hear me laugh under my breath and then my shoes on the floor as I walk away. You almost leap up, but the tension keeps you pinned there. Heart racing, sweat springing to your skin. Shocked, desperate, confused, needy. Yet you lie completely still, forcing yourself limp.
You hear me return, listen to the click and tap as the tripod extends and touches the ground. You try to stay calm as I adjust it, tighten the clasp to hold my camera, step quietly all around you without touching you once. You're sweating, trying not to pant. It hurts, you need to be touched so bad now. I'm taking my time.
I step somewhere between you and the camera and start speaking as it records.
"It hasn't regained consciousness yet, so I'm going to restrain it."
And then there's the sharp screech of duct tape as I pull off lengths of it, and chains rattling as I drag them closer. And when I finally touch you, it shocks your entire body, everything straining in you for more, even if this is just to haul your wrists together for tying up.
Once you're fully bound, I start to undress you, joking to the camera, "It's in for a surprise, isn't it?" And when I lean down to grope you as I shimmy your clothes out of the way, I linger by your ear.
Then you hear it. Just loud enough for you to barely hear, the faintest whisper to prevent the camera's mic from picking it up.
"Good dog. Now put on a good show for the camera."
And you have a moment to process that before my free hand steadies your face as I pull back to slap you "awake".
