To the me that was purely myself. He transports me. It is his time now, as it once was mine. He makes me remember. My body remembers. My senses rememb...r. Why Paris?It is where I came of age. Have you ever been there? If so, you will understand. Perhaps your city is a different one. But Paris was mine. It is a city of innate sensuality. It is unmistakably real, with palpable beauty. Not like some other cities, whose realities are harsh and dirty and damaging. Paris’ beauty lives in the moment. "This is going to hurt" he smiled, and went to collect one of the whips from the wall. Taking his time among his selection he eventually rejected all of them and turned back to face the bound girl before him. "This one, I think" he said and slowly undid his belt. Pulling it through the straps of his jeans he wrapped the buckle end around his hand leaving the greater length dangling in front of him. Seeing this, Anne started screaming wildly into her rag and shaking her head as furiously as her. More

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