To me it was beautiful. As I sat relaxed in the couch by the easy chair in the living room, my less-than-lovely wife began the barking that she was famous for.“Depesh! Go get the mail!”It felt like nails and screws being driven into my brain.“You know how I hate the cold. Go!”I grumbled in agreement and set off to the main office. I walked slowly through the rain, enjoying it as the cold drops of water splashed on my face and rolled down my gaunt cheeks. I entered the main office and headed straight for the mail room. Reaching my apartment number, I fumbled around in my pocket and found the key. I opened the mailbox and looked inside. Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. This trip, though rather enjoyable, had been a waste of precious energy.“Hey, Depesh!”I looked to the source of the melodious voice. It was Seema. I smiled to try and match hers, but was no match for the shine her smile produced.“Seema,” I said warmly. “What’s up?”She walked somewhat aimlessly, her eyes lazily drifting up. You answered the door in that soft bathrobe that looks so good on you and a pair of loose, baggy pajama pants. Not a stitch more. You invite me in and I embrace you, holding you close, holding you lovingly, letting you feel the smoothness of my face, let you know, without a word being spoken, that I shaved for you today. I kiss you gently, and guide you towards the bed. Before you know it, I have you in bed, your robe undone, baring your beautiful breasts. In a few moments I had you out of your robe and was easing you out of your pajama pants. I stroked your hair and kissed you, and then whispered softly in your ear, “You’re mine, slut.”A shiver runs through you, as you look at me, wide-eyed. I place my hand firmly on your chest, holding you down, my eyes never leaving yours as I reach out and grab a couple of your scarves. In a few moments, I’ve tied your wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving you nude, spread-eagle, and helpless. Without breaking eye-contact, I let my.
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