Her hands were pressed to her face. Her wrists, shackled together. Her knees, bare on the ground.

The words poured from her mouth. Begging, pleading, desperately wanting.

But would he acquiesce?

Never, of course not, that is not who he is. He does not bow to her want, her body succumbs to his.

Her hands came down from her face as his will commanded them. They would do his work, as her hands were no longer her own. Down, down, further her hands went, as he beheld her. Her eyes were transfixed by his stare, as always.

He loved her eyes, they told him everything he wanted to know, whether they wanted him to know or not.

And her eyes told him what she really wanted…