The young man was panting, his face aglow with excitement as Risa straddled him, raking her sharp fingernails down his thin chest, slowly, harshly. A short cry escaped him as her slim, powerful hands clawed at his ribs, leaving red scratch marks…1

"Silence!" she hissed, her dark blue eyes flashing with a dangerous glinting. "You dare to defy me, you pathetic scum? You show me such disrespect, such sniveling weakness?"2

"No, mistress- I am sorry, mistress-" he gasped, as the sharp heel of Risa's stilettos suddenly ground into his sides. Her chest heaved noticeably in her black silk bra, and even the pain in his sides, in his skull from where one hand, encased in fingerless leather gloves, pulled his hair, was nothing, unworthy of his notice. He could feel the heat of her body against his, the anger emanating from her- anger at him…3

Clad in black lace panties, with garter stockings stretched down the length of her legs, Risa could see the man's ecstasy even through his pain, could feel his erection against her buttocks. She pulled his hair harder, yanking his head up from the bed.4

"You will pay for this, slave," she seethed, her heavily done-up eyes burning into his, the dark makeup outlining them making them seem all the more imposing. Her long dark hair fell wild and tangled down her back, before her shoulders, but Risa seemed neither to notice nor care. "You will be disciplined most severely for your transgression…"5

"Oh yes, mistress," the man gasped, his voice intimidated, but still eager, even pleading. "Punish me- please- I deserve it, I deserve no mercy…"6

Risa released his hair with one hand, shoving his head back so harshly it smacked against the headboard. With a deft quickness she reached to the side of her garter, withdrawing a foldable switchblade and quickly holding it to the man's throat. His eyes got huge, and his scrawny chest sunk inward, swelled out, even more rapidly with his panting breaths, the mesh of fear and lust in his eyes.7

Risa, still sitting atop the man's chest, trailed the blade slowly down his body, tracing a light path down his chest and stomach, her eyes cold, stony. As he swallowed, shook, she smiled cruelly, returning the blade to his throat. Jabbing him shallowly with the tip, she only smiled more widely as a strangled yelp emerged, along with a drop of dark blood. Nearly hyperventilating, the man moaned, "Oh, mistress- oh mistress-"8

"Do you regret your wickedness?" she asked him darkly. "Are you ready now to take your punishment like a man, in order to receive my forgiveness?"9

"Yes, mistress," the man gasped, his forehead beginning to perspire visibly. "Oh yes, mistress…"10

"If you are a very good boy," Risa purred, her icy blue eyes surveying his body slowly as she softly, almost lovingly caressed his throat with the knife blade, "I may let you off lightly… I may even let you give me pleasure…"11

Fifteen minutes later, the man lay under Risa's oppressing body, panting, seeming to have to struggle mightily to draw his every breath. Sweat and tears mingled unchecked on his face, giving off an interesting smell that after seven years, Risa still had not gotten quite accustomed to. Shallow cuts on his arms, thighs, and torso leaked small amounts of blood, but as his thin arms were lifted away from his body, bound by handcuffs to the bedposts behind his head, he could do nothing to stop their bleeding. Nor would he most likely have attempted to…12

Still sitting atop him, appraising him with the arrogant ownership of a child with a rather unexciting new toy, Risa leered, her mouth twisting. 13

"Oh, what fascinating little slave… but your deference is not good enough. I want you to kiss my feet- the only part of me you are nearly worth enough to look at."14

"But mistress- my hands-" the man began, his voice quavering.15

One black gaze from hard blue eyes instantly silenced him, and he began to twist and strain against the handcuffs as Risa watched coldly, still sitting on his stomach.16

"Enough," she commanded at last, her voice regal, imperious. "Your devotion has redeemed you partially in my eyes."17

She undid his handcuffs roughly, yanking his wrists out with no regard for their bruised skin. The man sighed, shuddery, relieved, and he began to kiss Risa's feet, caressing her with teary gratitude.18

"Mistress, thank you- I am not worthy-"19

Risa allowed him to kiss her for a few moments, her face a mask of indifference, before finally snapping, "Enough. Put on your clothes and get out of my sight. I grow tired of your foolish fawning."20

The man scrambled to his feet, pulling on awkwardly his clothes disgarded at the foot of the bed. They were ripped and wrinkled, for Risa had torn them off of his visciously earlier.21

"Here, mistress," he said in a respectful tone, eyes averted, as he handed her three hundred dollar bills. "Please accept this offering of- of my adoration…"22

Risa took it coldly, narrowing her eyes at the still-trembling figure.23

"Leave my presence now," she demanded, "or more discipline will ensue…"24

The man scampered out the door, first throwing a nervous but worshipful glance her way. He was probably all of nineteen, and too easily broken- Risa hated his kind. She preferred ones who would challenge her a little more, dish out as well as take what she gave them…25

She shoved the bills into the envelope inside the dresser by the table, then began to adjust herself automatically, running her fingers through her hair, finding a compact to check her makeup in. She had thirty more minutes until her next customer, or slave, as they preferred to be called….26

As she sat down on the crumpled bed, she thought vaguely she should remake it, but her limbs felt strangely heavy today, and she had no desire to move. Usually Risa felt nothing after each session, only an odd emptiness, a mental numbness that made it possible for her to be so good at her profession. But today she felt a harsh aching, a bitterness that was so prevalent, she was amazed to find herself blinking back tears.27

What the hell was wrong with her? She'd been doing this for seven years now- she had not had such a reaction since her first few times, back when she was 18 and had nothing of the experience she did now. What made today any different from yesterday, or the day before?28

It wasn't, she told herself fiercely, as she gritted her teeth, glowering as she forced the threatening tears back from her eyes. This was not a difficult or bad job- if anything, it was boring, tedious really. She was being completely damn stupid.29

With those thoughts, Risa sat up straighter, lifting her chin as she began to brush her hair with hard, almost violent strokes. After the eleventh stroke, her eyes were cool once more, every trace of emotion banished- all, except a carefully practiced anger.30