Startled and abashed, I want to look anywhere but into his face.
"Do you realise Elizabeth," he continues, "that this is where we first met? Time for a replay of those events I think."
A cuff snaps around my wrist, and my arm is pulled upwards to the shower head, then locked into place.
My other arm follows, and I am bound naked to the showerhead, water still playing over my hair and face, breasts and stomach.
As I finally look at him, my Master is stripped down to his jeans, bare-chested and barefooted. "Francis left five minutes ago. You know, I was watching your performance there, for some while Elizabeth, and you didn't even notice me. I must have been remiss in my attentions to you."
He shrugs off the jeans. "I could fuck you brainless right where you are, but I think we can take a little longer over it. Do you like the cuffs? They're new. I bought them as a present for you."