It didn’t matter to him, he only wished for my safety and well being, I didn’t deserve him, and yet, he was still there. I gulped again, as if I w...re trying to fight the urge to bite, only to have a hand at the back of my neck forcing me closer to his wrist. I knew then, that I couldn’t stop, that he would make me do it, only so that I may live to see his face again. If I could cry, tears would have streaked down my face, and I would have tried to make him stop, but being what I am, my tears. " I begin to panic as my Master gets off the couch and begins to walk towards me."Do you have any idea what time it is?!" He doesn't holler at me, but the calm tone of his voice scares me even more than if he were to yell. I nod slowly as he grabs my chin. "What time is it then, slave?"I look down at the ground, desperately trying not to look him in the eyes. "A little after 2 a.m. I think Master." He shakes his head angrily and puts his hand around my throat. He doesn't choke me though, just. " What! Are you crazy?" Then she thought maybe she misunderstood. "Oh, do you mean you want to take Polaroid pictures of me?" No Marcy, that's not what I had in mind. I meant professional photos. A series by a professional photographer." I couldn't do that." She saw the look of disappointed and said, "I'm sorry honey, I just couldn't." That doesn't surprise me, like I said I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place, forget it." Marcy knew that he was upset. She felt somewhat guilty. Pauline Manson smiled, stepped inside and quietly closed the front door behind her, turning the key in the lock to secure it. The seventy-two-year-old took a few deep breaths before walking the short distance along the hallway and into the living room where she found Zofeya, head in her hands, sitting on the sofa.Miss Manson did not say a word, instead laying her hockey bag beside the armchair, placing her handbag next to it and then removing her thick winter coat which she neatly folded and.
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