Right. Your lead.

“Right,” you **** through her vice-grip on your throat. “Your lead.”

The ethereal woman releases you, and you land on your feet, stumbling dizzily and gasping. Her eyes fade to white and her stance loosens, watching as you come to terms with her power over this situation. If you could see a face, you’re sure it would wear the smuggest of grins.

“Well, then,” her voice has returned to its seductive tone, “Where were we...?” Her fingers, gently sliding their way back to your crotch, now feel more substantial as they tease you, and you can feel the warmth of her body now begin to cross the space between you.

“Yes, I am yours, you see,” her encouraging caresses drift smoothly along your stiffening shaft. “Yours to make yours. Your desires are my dreams, your fantasy my reality.” The hand that had gripped your throat was now gripping your member, while the other teased along its length. “So, close your eyes and tell me: what color is my hair?”