I’m looking directly ahead. My arms outstretched in front of me, bound, my chest pushed up against the cold hard wood of the coffee table. A moment earlier I’d gasped as you’d gently pushed me down onto all fours over the table and the coldness had hit my skin. You’d bound my wrists to the front legs of the table and guided my legs apart so that they could be bound to the back legs. Now, after getting used to the coldness...