Leather Corset. Metal Choker. Long Gloves. Red Lips.

One arm above my head, my chin raised, my gaze coming down on you from above. The corset sits so tight that every posture is a decision – mine. The choker gleams cold, the glove reaches far above the elbow, and the lips are exactly as red as you remember them.

You stand in front of me and do not know where to put your hands. Behind your back. They stay there. You blush, and that is fine: embarrassment suits you better than any answer.

Here you see the corset and the look. How long you can bear it, we will find out.