Dont think.
Dont question.

Just do.

The anonymous note wasnt for me.

Dont get me wrong, Im not in the habit of reading other peoples mail, but it was just a piece of paper with a few lines scrawled on it, clearly meant for the apartment upstairs. It looked so innocent, but decidedly deliciouslyit was not.

Before replacing the noteand the ones that followed in its rightful slot, I devoured its contents: suggestions, instructions, commands. Each was more daring, more intricate and more arousing than the last and I followed them all to the letter.

Before the notes, if a man had told me what to do, Id have told him where to go. But submission is an art, and theres something oddly freeing about doing someones biddingespecially when it feels so very, very good. But I find that the more I surrender, the more powerful I feelso its time to switch up roles.

We play by my rules now.