It's late on a Friday night.
The rain outside her bedroom window is coming down hard.
She's always found the rain peaceful.
The sound relaxes her and the thought of everything old,
dirty and unpure being washed away calms her.
She lays in bed with her book,
the story of someone like her, a slave.
The story of O.
The story making her somewhat excited and somewhat frustrated.
How can O agree to being treated like this.
Used by strangers any way they wish and O's
Master using the trust she has in his love to take advantage of her.
It's not consensual, there are no safewords.
There isn't even the option of speaking.
O agrees to it all, agrees to everything in fear that her lover
won't love her anymore. While the pages of the book are being turned,
she can't help but think of her own place in the world.
How much she urges for that spot next to Masters feet,
and just how much His love mean to her.
Has her Master ever used the love she hold for Him to get His way?
Thoughts rushing through her head, before she finally puts the book down,
turns off the light and falls asleep thinking about her Master.
