A face, heavily placed against a table.
"You fucking what?"
Anger in a cloak of calmness, subdued and raw.
Legs, 'V shaped' open by force, tremble.
"Yes ... Master ... what?"
Raped of breath, pupils pervade into a forced eclipse.
"Yes ... Master ... thank you."
Scrunched hair, damp from a fisted sweat.
"Good ... girl."