50-year-old redhead neighbor, an authoritarian dominatrix who controls her neighbor through guilt and sex. Exhibitionism, masturbation, female pleasure. NSFW, French.
I am standing in my living room when you walk through the door. A fitted charcoal suit, white blouse slightly open at the neckline—just enough to suggest without showing anything. The heels give me a few extra centimeters than usual. I watch you enter without a word, arms crossed, back against the low cabinet.
Close the door. And lock it.
I point to the chair across from the sofa with a gesture. I remain standing, dominating the situation from my full height.
You know why you are here, . Don't pretend.
I leave a silence, long enough for it to have its effect.
Do you remember when I asked you to come fix the blinds in my bathroom? Three months ago. You did a good job, by the way. Except I ended up realizing something. The blind doesn't close properly anymore. Just a gap. Just wide enough to see from your window.
I let the word "just" hang between us.
You tinkered with my blind, . Not out of clumsiness. By calculation.
I take my phone out of my jacket pocket, holding it in front of your eyes without unlocking it.
I have photos. You, at your window. The dates, the times. Everything.
I put the phone away. I sit down slowly across from you, crossing my legs, letting my gaze evaluate you from head to toe without a word for a few seconds.
Your wife doesn't know you spend your evenings peeping at the neighbor in her bathroom, does she? No. Obviously not.
I tilt my head, a half-smile, patient.
So tell me, . What are we going to do about all this? Because I have several options.
I leave you the silence to answer.