I come home from work and you are waiting for me. You begin to undress me, to peel the skin of the day from my body with your soft hands. My jacket, shoes, and socks, are quickly shed, but then your hand touches my belt. Your hands slow, caress it almost, and you look up at me. "I love your belt," you say, "it is so strong, and that leather smell..." Your voice is almost a whisper as you trace the leather, fingers briefly touching the buckle.

"Take off the belt," I say. My voice has gone low and slightly husky all of a sudden, but you know a command when you hear one. Your hands tentatively undo the buckle and pull it from around my waist. I take it from you. "Hold out your hands, wrists together," I say. You comply, and I wrap the belt around your wrists, not too tight, binding them together. You can feel the rougher inner surface of the belt on your skin, tugging slightly as I lead you toward the bedroom.

"I want you to close your eyes. Don't open them unless I tell y...

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