She's ready to play

“You want a fucktoy?” she says with a laugh, “If that’s all it takes, fine. Where are you?”

You give her directions to an abandoned house you’ve snuck into and set up for the occasion. Taking a shorter route, you arrive first and wait in the unfinished basement. A camping lantern lights a dingy mattress with ropes tied into the sides. Chain dangles from exposed beams above a table with an assortment of whips, gags, cuffs and toys.

You wait in the shadows holding a riding crop as you hear footsteps behind the house and the sound of the old wood door opening. “Hello?” Emma calls out before walking inside. Her tall heels click on the cold concrete floor as she slowly walks past you to the center of the room. She is stunning in her backless lace dress, some fringe covering just enough to be decent while she holds a small handbag in both hands in front of her.

“Stop right there,” you order. The tall brunette jumps in surprise but obeys, her eyes focused on the floor. You take a deep breath and step out of the shadows behind her.

“Is this where we are going to play?” she asks in her sexy British accent.

“Of course, it is Emma,” you say before whacking her between the shoulder blades with the crop, “But you forgot to call me Master.”

“I’m sorry, Master,”

“Better, now put down the purse and pull up that dress. I want to see your panties.”

Emma won’t do that. Instead she has a surprise for you.