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A quiet movie, music only moderately present. An expected peaking of funds, dulled by legal ineligibility. Feeling low and …low. Reaching up, keeping me just out of reach of her …So faint, almost pricky. "Hello there," he says, chuckling. "Just for a minute." As we hug, I sense his is sinking. He promises me a good-sized vibrator, and sets down his. Moving my hand to her breast, I tease the nipple with my thumb and forefinger, then flick it with the other hand. A come-hither sigh escapes him as I get on my knees, topless, and leak. "…and just for that, you owe me 100 bucks." I grin at him, since even the lout isn't really paying any attention to the score. "Okay …. … Alright, there is that," he chuckles, once more prodding. A few more juddering steps and the vibrator is beneath me, sliding up and down.

This time I fight it, smarting at the shudders wracking my body, until I realise he can kind of see my nipples through the cloth. He laughs, a tinkle like a cat in the rain. Taking it in both hands, he shakes his head, urging me to pull away. So I do, pulling fiercely at the cloth. A low moan of unspeakable pleasure escapes me as his hand lands a cropper on my stomach, sending shock waves of pleasure and …well, who knows? "Did you hear that," he whispers, his voice a harsh baritone? "I think you left the vibrator in there," I ask, incredulous. "You … you didn't … oh god, please … mercy, I'll blow that … I'll do anything for this darlin'." Finally, I let the vibrator go, grateful to have it out of my system. But, as is often the case, the orgasms were too much for me, for one reason or another. The cropping stopped, and I could hear the clink of metal and the click of my top against the wall. "You see, pet, that's how you disobey me," he muses. "It's all for you … if you want it, you can have it. If not, well, I guess I could always …. well, you can't … Oh god, I wish I could." Then, laughing once again, he adds, in a purrrrrrrrrr whisper, "I don't think you'd be happy with me if you were me, would you darlin'?" I lay back, while he tugs on my top. The liquid gold against my shiny silver threads feels decidedly icy, and I shiver in anticipation. He tugs and twists until the threads around my bosom are fuzzy, and the fabric rasping on the floor.

Oh gods! How would his reactions be if I pulled the top away from his body? How would I look with him leaning over me, probing at my most private place …. nope, not that anywhere, he supposes. I keep my cool. I hold still. Maybe …maybe I'll refer to him as "master." Maybe I'll call him master. In any case, he's Master, and I'll acquiesce. I just watch. He opens the water. I snicker. I know he can see the flickers of fear in my face. I can't hide the gleam of shame. A soft, fruity splash of soap bubbles up, almost to the edge of the tub, and, with a firm tug, it is pushed from his body. His eyes gleam a deep blue, the colour of my hair, and he looks up at me, dark and menacing, taking a deep breath..