a walk

Diana looked at the leather object in Emily's hand, her fingers trembling slightly—not from fear, but from something deeper, something warmer. The air in the studio felt heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, cheap perfume, and that damp scent emanating from herself, from between her thighs, ever since the vibrator had begun its work.

Emily shook the collar, making the metal ring jingle softly. "Yes. You've used one before, haven't you?"

Diana swallowed hard. "Not exactly like this."

"But you want to." Emily didn't ask. She knew. She knew from the way Diana arched her back when the vibrator intensified, from the way her fingers dug into her own breasts, as if she wanted to be touched and denied herself pleasure.

Diana hesitated for a second—just one—before extending her neck, like a submissive animal. Emily smiled, wrapping the leather around the woman's throat, tightening enough for her to feel the pressure, but not enough to hurt. **"Good girl."**

The click of the zipper echoed in the studio's silence. Ai, on the other side of the room, adjusted the camera's focus, capturing the blush on Diana's cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes.

Emily gently pulled on the leash, leading Diana forward. **"Let's go for a walk."**

Diana crawled across the black sheets, her knees sinking into the soft fabric. The leash tugged, guiding her, and she followed—because it was normal. Because Emily said so. Because, deep down, somewhere secret inside her, this was exactly what she had always wanted.

Ai photographed everything.

—

Later, when Diana left the studio, still trembling, still with wet legs and Emily's scent on her, she wouldn't quite remember how she got there.

But she would find a magazine in her mailbox days later.

On the cover, a naked woman, on all fours, with a leather collar and an embarrassed smile.

And I would think, for a brief moment:

*How beautiful. She looks familiar.*

And then I would turn the page.

Because it was normal.

It was just another photo.