VIP in the underbelly of decadence and sin, The Asylum Club. Any other time and her insides would have shrieked that she shouldn't be amongst these people. Any other time and she would have ran without so much as a glance back. Any other time and she wouldn't have even come to this playground of perversion at all. But this wasn't any other time. At that moment and for many to follow she knew her place was at the side of her Master, Romax Pol.
They lounged on one of the many plush couches that flooded the area, spending the hours conversing while girls served them drinks. All the while her fingers would caress her pink collar of thin chains and diamonds as she tried to exude the confidence He had scolded her over earlier that evening, or rather the lack thereof. She also did her best to entertain Him with various tales or observations of what she saw around them. At times she was still skirting this fine line between pleasant chatter and rambling, but she knew she was on the right path when He would stroke at her hair. Just like any pet she quickly picked up on certain signs of when He was pleased, unbeknownst to her that she was being trained.
A new track infested the club and that Cheshire grin engulfed her features. She slowly rose, fingers trailing along His arm while moving before Him a few steps. As if that one last touch was needed to hold her over for the short while she would be gone. His unblinking violet eyes followed her, but He made no movement to stop her. Was it because He knew that if she were stupid enough to attempt an escape He could have killed her on the spot without so much as lifting a hand? While true, no. He rested easy with the knowledge that she was now His. Mind, body, and soul.
The music infiltrated the air just as the ever-present cloud of heavy unnatural smoke did. Bass hitting so hard she could feel it in her chest like a second heartbeat. People passed here and there. Some eyes lingering over the little blonde lamb who seemed so out of place in this lion's den. But as she turned on black heels her attention was on nothing and no one except Him.
A deep dip as she found the beat. The soft fabric of her black cocktail dress clung to her as a second skin while she moved. Painted pink nails running up along her body and combing the locks from her face. She was anything but a natural seductress, but led by such passion to please Him she needed no guidance. Her movements were His. Each rock of her pelvis was pleading for Him. Every grind of her hips a silent promise. Heavy breath and an arch in her back as she swayed in time with the music. All of it was for her Master.
She couldn't remember the last time someone's presence left her so intoxicated while still desiring more. Had she ever felt this way? It was so hard to remember. Almost as if she were simply floating along, frozen in wait for the day He would come. Her memories were blurred and fading. But as those large blue eyes fixed on Him, new thoughts rang clear.
She would do everything in her power to serve Him.
She would live for Him.
If need be, she would die for Him.
They lounged on one of the many plush couches that flooded the area, spending the hours conversing while girls served them drinks. All the while her fingers would caress her pink collar of thin chains and diamonds as she tried to exude the confidence He had scolded her over earlier that evening, or rather the lack thereof. She also did her best to entertain Him with various tales or observations of what she saw around them. At times she was still skirting this fine line between pleasant chatter and rambling, but she knew she was on the right path when He would stroke at her hair. Just like any pet she quickly picked up on certain signs of when He was pleased, unbeknownst to her that she was being trained.
A new track infested the club and that Cheshire grin engulfed her features. She slowly rose, fingers trailing along His arm while moving before Him a few steps. As if that one last touch was needed to hold her over for the short while she would be gone. His unblinking violet eyes followed her, but He made no movement to stop her. Was it because He knew that if she were stupid enough to attempt an escape He could have killed her on the spot without so much as lifting a hand? While true, no. He rested easy with the knowledge that she was now His. Mind, body, and soul.
The music infiltrated the air just as the ever-present cloud of heavy unnatural smoke did. Bass hitting so hard she could feel it in her chest like a second heartbeat. People passed here and there. Some eyes lingering over the little blonde lamb who seemed so out of place in this lion's den. But as she turned on black heels her attention was on nothing and no one except Him.
A deep dip as she found the beat. The soft fabric of her black cocktail dress clung to her as a second skin while she moved. Painted pink nails running up along her body and combing the locks from her face. She was anything but a natural seductress, but led by such passion to please Him she needed no guidance. Her movements were His. Each rock of her pelvis was pleading for Him. Every grind of her hips a silent promise. Heavy breath and an arch in her back as she swayed in time with the music. All of it was for her Master.
She couldn't remember the last time someone's presence left her so intoxicated while still desiring more. Had she ever felt this way? It was so hard to remember. Almost as if she were simply floating along, frozen in wait for the day He would come. Her memories were blurred and fading. But as those large blue eyes fixed on Him, new thoughts rang clear.
She would do everything in her power to serve Him.
She would live for Him.
If need be, she would die for Him.