I reluctantly put my hands behind my back. Fuck, was she going to?"Stand still!"She delivered a hard open-palmed slap to my face. I was stunned. She lined me up with her left and slapped the other side just as hard.I desperately wanted to rub my burning cheeks but didn't dare move my hands. I was shocked. This wasn't like getting smacked on the ass. This hurt! She was in control. I suddenly felt an erotic surge at how in control she was."Please do what you're told." Fleur placed her hand on my hot cheek. "Did you like how I got you with the left? I've been practicing. It's harder than it looks." Very impressive." I said ruefully, "Miss Fleur!" I quickly added as her eyes narrowed dangerously. Fuck this was hot."Well," she said, "To business then. Would sir like his balls kicked shoes on or shoes off?" Off please, Miss Fleur." Oh, a foot man too, huh? We are expanding your horizons, Dan!"Actually, I was thinking her foot might be marginally softer, but she did have remarkably slender. There was a strange vagueness in her mind, an amorphousness of thought that should alarm her. Had she been drugged? Somehow she knew she had been, remembered a doctor, a needle in her arm. She wanted to react to that thought, wanted to let it pierce the shadows in her mind, but before she could, a noise behind her drew her attention. A figure was leaning against the glass facade of the house behind her: tall, dark and vaguely threatening - a beautiful spectre in a world of grey. A man. His face, his identity obscured by the shadows of the living world. “Who are you?” She knew it to be a stupid question, knew the “where” and “how” should be more important than the “who”, but it just slipped out nevertheless. Inconsequential human attention to peripheral information. She had never met him before, of that she was certain - but she also felt as if she had known him all her life; as if his deep, melodic voice had been interwoven with her existence since the very beginning. The voice.
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