It was her pink dyed hair that I noticed first, then her smile. Then I saw a glimpse of another life, the mark of an over-tightened collar. When she stood from the hot tub, confirmation came, by the crisscrossed marks of a cane on a firm tender rump.
As my want grew, she turned, looked at me and licked her lips, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.
Later we met, and I tasted her delights. Chained to my bed, she sang in praise of pleasure and pain as her body bore fresh marks of her want.
