A face, heavily placed against a table.
Blood flows.
"You fucking what?"
skin swells.
Anger in a cloak of calmness, subdued and raw.
Tears cry.
"Yes. Master."
Ripped tights.
Legs, 'V shaped' open by force, tremble.
Disengaged zipper.
"Yes ... Master ... what?"
Body's tilt.
Raped of breath, pupils pervade into a forced eclipse.
Flames burn.
"Yes ... Master ... thank you."
Liquid soothes.
Scrunched hair, damp from a fisted sweat.
Punctuated grunts.
"Good ... girl."
Pipes burst.
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