It wasn't like him at all. He was quite spontaneous, he didn't like fun things to be planned too far in advance. So the fact that he'd planned a surprise holiday for them both- plane tickets, hire car, lovely remote farm-house in the hills above Granada, lots of food already in the fridge when they got there even- was even more of a surprise for her than it might have been.

It started to make more sense when she saw what he'd laid out in the bedroom, though. It had only been a couple of months ago that he'd finally- after ten years of marriage- been brave enough to ask her if they could try bondage. She'd always wanted to but she'd been too shy to say, too... so she said yes, but then there was the big embarrassment of making sure they both meant the same thing by it!

Yes, he did mean that he wanted to tie her up. Not her to tie him up. Not that there would have been anything wrong with that, but she knew her fantasies had always been about being the sexy captured femme fatale taught her lesson, not the femme fatale being the dominatrix. Which was probably why she tended to play the domme a bit in real life- it was complicated! By being a bitch sometimes (but only in a funny way- she hoped) she realised she had kind-of been signalling that she wanted him to do something about it in the bedroom.

And now he had. The way he looked at her like she was an amusing puppy when she'd done the high and mighty domme act was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. Amused tolerance, like he knew he was going to come out on top, but he was permitting her to dig herself a nice deep hole for herself first. She was, and always had been, just a little afraid of him. In a really good way.

So this was why nothing much had come of that conversation! She'd been secretly disappointed that it hadn't. Well, he'd obviously just wanted to do it properly. And there were no neighbours around to hear her scream. Or sigh. Or moan. Or beg....