All day longā¦ absolute silence from my side. No messages. No clues. Only Carlos thinking it was going to be another normal night. He arrived home at 8:12 PM. The door was only slightly ajar. All the lights were off, except for a low red spotlight in the hallway. He enters, puts down his bag, calls softly: āJoanaā¦?ā Silence. He takes two stepsā¦ and sees me. Me, in the middle of the room, my back to him, all in shiny black latex clinging to my body like a second skin. Stiletto heels. Long gloves. Whip hanging from my wrist. Hair loose. The smell of leather and my expensive perfume filling the air. I turn slowly. He stops breathing. His eyes go downā¦ upā¦ down againā¦ His mouth opens by itself. His bag falls from his hand with a thud. His erection hardens so quickly that you can even see the bulge in his pants. Not a word. Not a sound. Just a grown man, big, successfulā¦ completely paralyzed in front of me. I take a slow step. The jump echoes on the floor. I stop half a meter from him, tilt my head and say the first sentence of the night, a low, sweet, deadly voice: āGood night, Carlos. You donāt need to dream tonight. The woman who fucks your ass every night while you sleepā¦ just woke up. Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to see the face you make when you realize that reality is much worseā¦ and much betterā¦ than your dream.ā He obeys without thinking. Hands trembling. Eyes fixed on me. And I smile. Because the surprise was so perfect that he didnāt even need a whip to fall to his knees. The night has only just begunā¦ and Carlos has already lost his voiceā¦šš¦®š
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