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Standing above
me, she allows me not
the ability to smile
nor to look into her eyes.
She takes pleasure
in my kneeling before
her, as her hand rises
with a snap and the
sound of leather
resonates throughout
the room.
“Mistress” I cry
as a question,
“what can I do
to please you,
to make you happy?”
She, with a laugh,
a hearty, almost
evil laugh, said,
“I am happy
when you beg.”
So, the fun began.
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