My heart hung, trapped in ice for a moment within my chest as I stood over her, stance strong, eyes poised intently. But today was different somehow; I couldn't quite place it...

Not least the physicality of it all the same as the day before, as my submissive, my property knew our routine all too well.

Kneeling on the cold, hard floor beneath me, her slender frame giving perception of fragility, but I knew that she was anything but... after all, she withstood my tests; as I unleashed my own demons on my beautiful property, she would always push on to do whatever was necessary to ensure my fulfilment, my enjoyment and to bring me peace...

I didn't tell her that she was the strongest woman I had ever know, I didn't tell her that I respected her, this was not the moment in time or the place to do that, no.

Our silent oaths and twisted throats...

Today would be like every other morning... I would use my beautiful submissive, until exhaustion seized her, and anything less would result in punishment, for we both grow together. Like crumpling a perfect flower in the palm of my hand and discarding it to the floor, this would be her fate day after day, she knew this, and she openly embraced this.

Being my submissive was in her heart as much as owning her was in my own.

The clink of the chain against the cold floor rendered me from my daze as she started to raise her head, the collar around her slender throat solid, without being overly constrictive. It reminded her of her place, and she seemed to find some emotional comfort in its bondage, like she was always tethered to her Master by it, over any time and any distance.

As her hair fell to the side her eyes met mine, that she was looking up at me from the floor, such as the day and the day before, was somewhat of a metaphor for our entire relationship, but it felt right to us both. Each day I would greet my slave, freeing some of her shackles so she may tend to the days tasks and her chores. She knew the importance of these chores and the consequences that went with not completing them to her Masters satisfaction. Every morning she would look up at me as she was doing now, but today... today was to be very different.

As her gaze met mine, she let a tiny smile escape as she tilted her head to the side and asked quizzically...

'Yes, Sir?..'

It was at this moment I realized what was nagging at me and why my heart was pounding in my chest, when it should have been her heart pounding in hers. Every day, I made her heart pound, but today, it was my turn.

When all the dirt had washed away, she saw me regardless, the visage of a demon too hideous to endure...

But she endured, through my tormented sense of self, she always found a way to pick up the pieces and push forward. I was the warrior, but she was the stronger one.

I was immortal, but she could stop time. The mirror shattered under the strain of my flaming aura, but the sharp pieces would realign and rekindle whenever she came near, gliding slowly over a world too self-absorbed to appreciate an angel in its midst, and a devil ashamed, but tamed by her...

We all are broken in some way; we all have teeth and forked tongue, spewing acid in our controversies.

I knew, I should be locked away at the bottom of the ocean, more broken than most, guilt-fed and compassion free, but she took me in regardless, and finally I had learned to look to the floor, humbled and facing my demons head on, facing my own grotesque presence.

She saw me regardless, and when she could just have easily struck me down, she chose instead to rebuild me as a man, the demon inside cast out and expelled, never to return.

There is always someone willing, wanting to rebuild you, even when you feel most forsaken, as she had never forsaken me...