I see days upon days melted away into nothing. Pictures that bring back no memory, faces that no longer make my pulse race. When I see beautiful people, I feel sorry for them. Beautiful people have so much further to fall, so much more disappointment to feel, when at last the final glow fades from their cheeks and that sparkle dies in their eyes. When their lovers look upon them with no surprise, no thrill. When every kiss tastes of ashes and every touch burns, when every word falls on their hearts like a knife and in their bellies like a sickness. When I pass the elderly on the street, I see a companion. Fifty years older than me, yes. But I have been there. I know them. When I see the young, I feel lost. What is there in the world that could cause anyone, anywhere, to laugh like that? What is there in the world which could cause anyone, anywhere, to care so damn much? I see the happiness and the abandon, and I remember my own as if I only read about it in a story or watched it in. The "Oh" response came simultaneous with a little dance as he began to wave his hand in the air as if it were a butterfly fluttering in the wind. "Get back on that spot" bellowed Mistress. "What was the number?" "Four" he whispered, still blowing on his hand trying to alleviate the pain "It was not, it was three" she retorted "Alright three" said the slave "Three what?" she bellowed "Three, thank you Mistress" came the answer. "Legs apart, hand out!" the discipline was not about to stop. He was half way through the first hand and already it was simply killing him. Furthermore that web cam was transmitting the whole sordid affair to all and sundry. Whack "Four, thank you Mistress" "That's better" Whack " Ow" he was dancing again. That female dominating voice: "Get back on that spot" "Yes Mistress" "What is the correct response "Five thank you Mistress" "Correct, now get on that spot NOW!" The slave moved back to the two spots on the floor still waving his hand in the air and.
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