A sharp crack breaks through the silent chamber where two stand. When quiet had once been commanded, his footsteps now beckon her attention. Her heart beats rapidly underneath her chest as he stops just footsteps away. Does she have the mind to consider the symbolism encoiled in the whip as it wraps around her? Her breathing heightens. The crisp leather holds her securely, the implement takes her captive, narrowing her focus until all she is aware of... ...is he who holds it. There is no chance, no need, no desire to escape. The grip of the tail can in no way compare to the ties that bind her to him. The uncertainty of his implications excites her, and yet the absolute control they hold together balances her soul and desire with his.