i really like this. You have a deft touch with characterization and internal dialogue. To me this could make a wonderful prologue or intro to a larger work. Lots of good stuff to play with, slave/slave interactions, Master/slave interactions, backstory of how Kelly came to be here from the kitchen, yumminess on top of yumminess. i can envision an entire novel just from this snippet.

Your next assignment will be posted today. Now on to the nits, few as they are.

Quote Originally Posted by Satan_Klaus View Post

This story raises far more questions than it answers and leaves everything open, the beginning and the end. Like a snapshot out of the middle of a novel, it seems incomplete but I hope that it titilates the reader in it's own way.


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Upstairs


Kelly was on her knees, head bowed with tears running down her cheeks to fall to her full breasts. Her voice was anguished and tremulous.

"I can't do it, Master. I want to do it, but I just can't."

Why did it have to be so hard to be his slave? Why wasn’t she gifted like Sheila, why didn’t she have Anna’s resolve? She risked a glance at her sisters who knelt beside her, trying to be invisible before the master’s wrath. His black leather boots clacked menacingly on the tile floor in front of her and she followed them with her eyes, not daring to look up any further as he paced up and down the line of his slaves.

Such a little thing, really. Why couldn’t she do it if she had managed to do all the things it had taken to get here?

She could always go back, a voice from the back of her mind told her. Go back downstairs. Sweep the floors and work the kitchen. It was easier there. And (change the period and the word "and to a semicolon) all she had to do was to get up and leave. There would be no repercussions, no punishments that (delete) would follow her. All would be forgiven.

It was not the silk dress and the jewels that kept her here. Not the morsels from the master’s plate or the cushions she slept on. And it certainly wasn’t pride that was keeping her; she had left that behind her long ago.

It was the feeling of wholeness that she was longing for. That special joy she had found at her hated master’s feet and learned to love. Learned to crave. It was the certainty that she would find it nowhere else. Slowly, Kelly got down on all fours and crawled forward.

Her destiny lay in the black leather boots in front of her; in the unforgiving sting of her master’s whip and the piercing stare of his eyes.

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Satan_Klaus