*For my Master*
I awaken slowly, my vision gradually returning in a blurry haze, my body still tingling. I am half sitting on the ground, wondering how I had fallen, noticing the small damp spots of my salvia on my dark denim shorts, being unable to control it as I had gasped for air. The carpet looks slightly discoloured, as my consciousness creeps back into me. My hand instinctively goes to my throat. The flesh there still burns hotly from the force of your hands. You notice I have regained consciousness, and kick me, hard, in the back, forcing me face first into the floor. I do not look up at you. I know I have displeased you.
"What are you bitch?" You spit at me. I shakily raise my self from the floor, but you kick me in the side, keeping me down. My pride keeps me quiet.
"I can't hear you Slut. Try again." Your tone is cold and even. I know I've pushed you too far, you're pissed. The unbearable summer heat is causing sweat to trickle down my face, making my long red hair stick to me uncomfortably. You grab a fist full of it, and snap my head back, throwing me onto my back. You hold my freckled wrists down with one of your strong hands, using your other hand to force my face towards you.
"Look at me slut. Look me right in the eye. What the fuck are you to me?" I shudder with a mingle of fear and anticipation. I open my eyes, and find your seething green ones glaring back. Your 6'1" to my 5'6" easily makes me the loser in any fight we have, but I can't help but love the feeling of your hard body pressed down on mine, your messy blonde hair and broad shoulders, smooth chest and firm grip holding me down just sends chills down my spine. I can't help but feel the familiar heat spread between my legs. You have always been so deliciously handsome. I struggle against you, but I have no doubt in my mind about what is to happen.
Your usual charm and patience is enough to deal with my reckless behaviour, yet maybe today I had really blown it. God knows why you have put up with me thus far.