Master; Pet.

Doubt.

He’s the one you tell yourself to stay away from, but the lover you return to every night.
Maybe it’s not entirely by choice, but he knows you oh so intimately – he’s explored every inch of you, and he’s a patient lover that he knows exactly where to touch to make you shiver.
Perhaps it’s no exaggeration to say that maybe he even knows your next move before you’ve even decided on one.
He’s the one you promise yourself never to see again as you dress yourself the morning after, while he lounges on the bed and laughs as he watches.

You know those hungry yellow eyes all too well, dear.
He needs no sweet words to seduce you, no leash and collar to own you, and yet you are his – mind, body and soul.

Doubt takes all, pet.

He is the master you both love and loathe – you question the roles of master and dog in this relationship of yours, wonder what it would be like to be free from him someday, ponder the possibility even, yet run back to him the moment he calls.
You may detest the hold he has on you, but what can you do?
Who is the master; who is the slave? How did the roles turn this way?

As a lover his words are both poison and wine, his touch one you crave yet flinch away from.
As a master he has you on no leash, but you answer to him and him alone no matter how unwillingly.

He has branded you, made you his.

Have you tried rebellion?
…
You laugh.


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