I sent her a text, mid-day: Be on your knees, in the room when I get home.
“The room” is our play place. She knows to be stripped down to her bra, panties and stockings. There is a chain attached to the wall that she will hook to her collar as she kneels on the large cushion (a dog bed I picked up from the local pet supply store).
When I come home I take out my phone, connect the the Bluetooth speaker in the playroom downstairs and start the BDSM playlist. I then pour some whiskey on the rocks. For a few minutes I sit and relax, letting the day of work go and getting myself into the proper frame of mind.
Just as she is getting into the right frame of mind, waiting below, chained to a wall, so must I get into my Dominant headspace. I hear the music below. I hand-picked the tracks for this specific scene type. It starts out slow, giving me time to unwind. I’m not rushed. I look at my drink, swirling the ice casually.
I’m wearing comfortable black slacks, simple white pressed-shirt, black tie and jacket. Finishing my drink, I stand, and head downstairs. I open the door and enter the playroom. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. It’s dark here, no windows, black lights. I like the mood it sets. There are various instruments of pleasure hanging from their hooks on the wall: floggers, leather crops, ropes, various restraints. It’s nothing extravagant. Simple and functional.