I make gentle noises of appreciation and they’re as real as this moment and as real as the unspoken words that sit like silent ghosts around us. “...here do you want it?” you ask me and I look at you helplessly because words won’t find me. “Tell me where you want it or you won’t get it at all!” you tell me with what I presume to be feigned menace in your tone. Then it occurs to me momentarily that I hardly know you at all. I’m finding it even harder if it’s at all possible, to speak now and my. I had surrendered, admitted defeat, I was his now, and he was my master. SIX MONTHS LATER… Despite the terrible tightness of the corset, I expectantly kneeled before the apartment door awaiting my Master’s return. I knelt with hands stretched out, holding the ice-cold beer in a frosty mug, my Master’s preferred drink upon arriving home. I was dressed to please him. Starting at the bottom, my toe nails were perfectly maintained through my weekly visits to a local salon operated by a colleague of. More

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