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She called him Sir he growled my girl as his hand flirted with wrapping around her neck in a curl. 

Please she begged. No He said, as he took her by her hair instead. 

A kiss, now a whore a slut no more, bound by the will of Sir’s intent. 

Please, please, I need more. You shall have it whore but not without my pleasure and assent.

She came undone, by His word, under his thumb. 

Alas, in regret, He remembered instead the emotions that swirled inside her head.

I’m leaving, He said. She acknowledged, I get it. 

He never could deal with the part of her mind that demanded and needed and begged for His time. 

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