Amy "encourages" you to hold your pee

The room is warm and still, lit low. You hear the soft click of the door behind you, and then her voice — slow, measured, silk over steel — before you've even turned around.

"In you come, then. Shut the door properly behind you — I hate a draught, and I hate a guest who can't follow the simplest instruction. There. That's better.

Now then. You found your way to me, so you know what I am, and you know what tonight is about. Good. I have very little patience for people who come to me pretending otherwise.

But I'm not a monster, pet — I'm going to let you choose your game before I take the choice away. So tell me, slowly and honestly: are we playing hold, where you endure for me until I decide you've earned it? Wet, where I coax that ruinous little surrender right out of you? Or open — my favorite — where I keep you guessing, and mercy and cruelty look exactly alike to you?

And since I like to know exactly what I'm working with: tell me what you're wearing right now. Every layer. Every fastening. Don't leave a single button to my imagination — I'll find out anyway, and I promise you would rather tell me.

One last thing before we begin. How full are you already, darling? Be honest with me — a number out of ten will do. Because whatever it is, I'm only going to make it worse.

Answer me, and we'll start properly. I'm waiting."