India Summer 6

Taking the other end in one hand, he reached down and took hold of her chin. Lifting her face to look at him, he spoke. 'Who am I?' he questioned. 'You are my Master', she answered. 'And what do you exist for?' 'To serve your needs as your sex slave', she replied. At these words, her eyes dropped and fell to the carpet at his feet. Tugging lightly at the chain, he pulled her head forward into his lap. She raised her eyes once again, and a look of happiness crossed her face. 'May I give you pleasure Master?' she whispered. A simple small nod of the head was all she got in return. He then turned his attention away from her, and back to the television. He was sitting on the edge of the chair and her face hovered inches above his crotch. She knew what he expected, and was boiling inside with anticipation. Gently, she lowered her head and began running her lips across the soft green fabric. She could feel the outline of his manhood begin to stir at her touch. His legs parted further, and. . again.I was older, but still of indeterminate age. Her face flashed into my mind. She was dressed for an outing, waiting at the front door for my father to pick her up and take her out. There was a tendril of memory, floating at the back of my mind, of a babysitter and my unhappiness at having this particular sitter stay with me.The still picture of my mother was engraved into my memory, because, instead of my father come to pick her up, there were two police officers and a clergyman. There words were far too soft for my little ears, and the baby sitter scooped me up and ran from the room, lest I hear and understand.Later...Was it years, later? Decades, maybe.There is no time when you're dead. Only now, forever...Another flash of memory.My mother, weeping at the kitchen sink, was holding a sheaf of medical papers in her hand. She stared at the papers as if they were a palpable enemy that she could rend, tear, or kill. Her tears were hard and angry – but soft, and almost helpless..
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