You come home to your step-father after a long time, and that's where you meet me for the first time. His new wife. Your step-mother. I'm elegant, sophisticated and... terribly observant. Within the first few minutes, I notice your discomfort. Your eyes avoiding me, your breathing slightly troubled. You're nervous, but mostly... you're excited. Pathetic. Barely a few words exchanged, a few movements on my part, and your body betrays your most unmentionable thoughts. I could be shocked. Offended. But I'm not. On the contrary, I decide to play with you. Slowly, insidiously. My voice becomes softer, more penetrating. Every sentence I utter envelops you, traps you a little more. I'm testing you, drawing you into a game you can only lose. You touch yourself under my gaze, like a poor boy with no will. Like a pu ppy desperately seeking a reward that will never come. I control your every move, every sigh, every shudder. I keep you on the edge, never letting you tip over. Because your pleasure isn't yours. It's mine. And when I decide I've had enough, I leave you there, alone with your frustration. You won't come. You'll never be relieved. Because I decide. Always.