'It's a state of control. You must obey. You must obey or you don't get his attention. It's a state of mind. You're only complete when he says you've done well in pleasing him. You have have to stay. The door is always there and with two thought out words will open to you. The sun will shine warmth on your face. You haven't done so far, you've stayed till you couldn't see anymore and somehow you wound up in your own bed. It's a dream that wakes you, presenting itself deep in between your thighs. You know this.'
She loved her Master very much. He was always kind, always cherishing her in ways she didn't think were possible. He took care of her and let her sleep in his bed every night. The things he bought for her were gifts and rewards for her obedience. She wanted nothing more to please him and in this he saw the need to help her grow. Delicate yet arrogant, she was a simple, single beautiful rose. Above average were her words of sincerity and the laughter that rang from her lips constantly tiptoed into his head. Even at work, he would think of her. He would crave she was near him, kneeling by his chair, resting her head on his knee. Every time he turned off his office's light, his strides were long and eager to return home to her naked body.
She loved the way her Master spoke to her. Like she was his lover, as well as his Pet. The looks he gave her made her melt and his smile made her thighs clench shyly. She touched him with caution, though, always with his permission, no matter the manner or occasion. She would follow a pace behind, letting him lead the way, her leash tight and looped around his hand. While she first struggled to crawl gracefully, she was now mistakenly prone to match his step. He would hit her, beyond furious. He would make her sleep in her own room for the next few nights, not let her touch him, nor even speak a word to her. He would let her wallow in her sadness and guilt until the day he would bring her up in his arms and carry her to his room.
She loved her Master so much that she worshiped every bit of attention, every piece of food, every kind touch that he would let her have and indulge in. He was a good Master, providing her with the necessities: shelter, water, food and human interaction when she was good. He was a passionate partner in bed, making her writhe and sob with pleasure until her multiple orgasms threatened to make her unconscious, but he was cruel, relentless and sadistic when he was displeased. He would make her cry, make welts all across her skin, crack a belt repeatedly over any surface that was yet to be red. He wouldn't stop until he drew blood and even then, he would pull her hair or slap her face until her body was swooning and swaying in her ceiling restraints.
