Yes, Mistress

The man inhaled shakily and looked down at his feet. The scuffed boots kicked against the sidewalk and sent pebbles skipping down the concrete. He looked up at the door in front of him with the light spilling into the evening from the thin window alongside it. His boots seemed to move of their own volition as he took the last three steps forward and raised his hand to knock. The noise sounded muffled against the traffic sounds behind him.

After a stretched, suspenseful minute, the door opened silently and a face peered out at him. The woman on the other side of the door smiled and beckoned him inside. She spun to lead him down the hall and her long, wavy brown hair left a lingering smell of soap behind her. The robe she had pulled over her shoulders made a swishing sound against the floor as it dragged behind her, but he could still make out the faint thud of heels through the thin carpet.