“Arrrgh,” he said, straining against the tough yet supple leather of the durable Gladiator Cuffs his Mistress had placed him in. If only he could be released from the chains that bound him so securely! “Aarrgggggh,” he said again, but winced as the Mistress entered the room. She held her hand behind her back, and gave him The Look, which made his blood turn to ice water. It always did. Though lithe and petite, she caused great apprehension in him, a robust, full grown man. Now, very nervous of what would surely portend to his fate, he assumed the position, eyes cast downwards as she approached. Watching her shadow on the cold, polished wood floor, he felt her draw near, could smell her aroma around him like a phantom. A slick film of perspiration began to bead up on his forehead when, with a whoosh, she was upon him, with a long feather in her hand. Straddling his chest, she started to tickle him for all he was worth. “Aargggh,” he said, unable to fully articulate just how he felt. Sometimes, things are better left unsaid.