Her words seem to come from nowhere, even surprising her it seemed, judging by the slight shudder she produces. Pausing in my primping, I studied her face and body language a moment, seeing a tension and need there that had echoed in the timbre of her voice as she had made her plea.<br/><br/>There was a school of thought that believed that to control a person, they needed to be broken first, so they had no will of their own. To my mind such methods were ruinous, as there is no joy left for either participant to indulge in, and ultimately, they become disposable.<br/><br/>I believed in choice. Give people options, and if they make the choice of their own volition, it can never be denied afterwards, and will only encourage them deeper into their needs and desires.<br/><br/>Jaclyn had made a choice.<br/><br/><strong>“Of course you may, little one,”</strong>I smile in answer to her question, getting up from my position against the desk to walk into the centre of the room; heels clicking softly on the floor as I move.<br/><br/>Reaching down, I purposely push my stocking tops down slightly, and turn them to the sides so they are askew, then point to the spot in front of where I am standing.<br/><br/><strong>“Attend to my stockings and describe to me how it feels to do so; there will be no secrets between us.”</strong><br/><br/>An unusual addition, yes, but knowledge was key.<br/>