Satin and leather.

Don't call him. He's busy.

"Oh my God,” Susan’s voice echoed in the room as the realization of what was about to happen hit her. Her eyes widened, fixated on the wax candle in Vivian’s hand.

She knew what wax play was, and she knew that some people found the sensation of warm wax on their skin pleasurable. She had just never tried it.

Vivian turned around, surprised by her sudden voice.

"What is it?"

Susan took some seconds to answer, when she noticed  her miss had just taken off one of her gloves, more specifically her left one, which meant that now only her right hand and forearm were covered by the black satin.

The last time, Susan could feel her hands on her but she couldn't see them, because she was blindfolded. She could swear she felt many, many little scars, but she wasn't sure. She wanted to look at them from a closer persepctive.

Her now nude hand revealead perfectly manicured nails painted a deep, glossy red.

The question rolled off her tongue before she could stop it, almost as a reflex: "Why is it always red or black with you?”

Vivian paused, clearly caught off guard by the sudden question. Her expression shifted from focus to a playful smirk. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Susan's question.

“Excuse me? Are you questioning my...wardrobe choices? You’re really stepping out of line, aren’t you?”

Susan bit her lip, realizing she might have overstepped a line. She didn't even want to actually ask it, she just thought it out loud.
She looked away. "I'm sorry , miss. I didn't want to offend you...I was just curious".

Vivian's smile widened and took a step closer. "You didn't offend me, it takes much more than that. But, you see...now I'm the curious one" she said, still walking towards her, the wax candle still in her gloved hand.

"I've never received a question like that before and honestly I've never even thought about it. But I guess you're right, I do always wear black or red when I'm here", she continued, stopping her walk to think.

"It's what my clients love, they think it makes me look more dominating. I think it too, and I like the way these colours look on me", the miss said, now placing both her hands on Susan's knees, bending down to face her, their noses only inches apart.

The young woman felt the candle in her hand brush against her leg. She lowered her eyes, unable to resist the urge to examine Vivian’s hands more closely and see if she was right.

Sure enough, she saw her left hand was marked with numerous small, faded, white scars. Susan wondered where they had come from and whether her other hand bore the same marks.

"Eyes on me, girl," Miss V ordered.

Susan immediately raised her gaze, meeting Vivian's with an intimidated expression, too lost in her own thoughts.

The miss looked at her with a serious expression. "Now, I want to know—do you like it? Would you prefer I wear something else?" Vivian asked, emphasizing the word 'you.'

Susan's mind raced, her thoughts tangling together as she tried to formulate a response. The question was simple, but the intense way she had asked it made her hesitate.
She swallowed hard.

"I... I don't mind it," Susan finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like a surrender, but there was something about the way Vivian’s eyes bore into hers that made it impossible to lie.

Vivian leaned in closer, her whole face now mere inches from Susan's. She could feel the scent of the candle, warm and slightly sweet, mixed with the subtle fragrance of Vivian’s perfume. "You don’t mind it, or you like it?" Vivian's voice was low, almost teasing, but with an edge that sent a shiver down Susan's spine.