As we walked into the bedroom, I was shocked at what I saw, or actually, what I didn't see. There weren't any of the usual array of punishment tools: leg spreader, crop, whip or paddle. Instead, there just two chairs facing each other. Also, strangely, he had locked the entrance into the bedroom. I did see something foreboding, it was a tissue box between the chairs. That simple cardboard box was there for me. This, was actually the true torture device. It was there to catch and absorb my emotional pain.

"Marissa, sit down please," Mark said solemnly while gesturing towards the chairs.

When my given name was used, it always caused an eruption of body shivers. He used it to punctuate the seriousness of any situation.

So much fear and worry bubbled up in my stomach, that I truly felt like I was going to be sick. I wanted to run out of the room to avoid having this serious talk with Mark. The lock on the door just reminded me how well Mark knew my tendencies, my tendency to run when I cannot face a problem. Call it weakness, cowardice, or some sort of self-preservation instinct, it's just what I felt comfortable doing.

This realization, that I am trapped in this room to face something serious enough to cause me to bolt, and Mark already anticipated my reaction by enforcing the door to prevent my escape, was ominous, to say the least.

I reluctantly sat down in one of the chairs, my head down, trying to ignore the tissue box. Beaten down, saddened and dreading what was coming next. I knew it was over. This was going to be the talk were Mark would release me from his ownership. Essentially, he was going to dump me. I struggled to hold back tears, but this was never something I was especially good at, that is, dealing with rejection.

He sat down across from me and placed my necklace on the foot of the bed which was near to his chair. He put out his hands and pointed to my feet. I lifted them up and he removed my heels. He picked up the tissue box and stared at it with a grim look on his face. He reluctantly looked up at me, and when I saw the pain behind his beautiful eyes, I knew. I just knew.

I began to sob.

He took a piece of tissue out and blotted my tears. He gently used the moisture to remove my makeup. I was truly stripped naked now. Figuratively and spiritually, totally bare. Feeling the last bits of humanity leave my body via my tear ducts.

He started to meticulously go through the list of all my infractions. As I had not been with any Master but him, I hoped for some leeway. Although he did not drop his eyes while he talked to me, and remained straight face, his body was betraying him. His form gave way to a gradual dropping his head and his shoulders. His body language was one of a tired man.

After a short while, I was amazed he had been keeping tabs on all my bad behavior, and that he could recite it all from memory.

"Do you think you are the right sub for me, Marissa?" he asked. "If you cannot follow my rules, why are you with me?" his eyes pleaded with me.

"I am not asking if you think I am the right man for you, I am asking the reverse here. Only you can answer that question. That determines our future."

He himself almost looked close to crying, and this only made me feel worse. I had crossed a line I had never crossed before and had hurt Mark. Really hurt him.

"Understand that love is important, and there is no person more loving than yourself, but we are in a specific kind of relationship here. We have a written agreement, which you are technically in breach of," his voice lightly cracking on the word 'breach'.

"Who I am, is a Dom," he continued. "This will always be who I am, just as sure as me sitting here in front of you now. To deny that, is to deny my existence. So you see, I cannot keep allowing these infractions and be who I am."

"What is happening here, Marissa, is you losing focus on the foundation of our relationship, which is that you must be submissive and follow my rules. If you cannot stay in the submissive role, and continue to drift in and out of this role, I have a problem with that," he said with his eyes ever closer to the verge of filling with tears.

I thought back in memory to a major infraction that occurred not to long ago where I had gotten into a scuffle with another woman. We were out at a club, and while I left him on the dance floor to refill my rum and coke, some woman had the audacity to swoop in and start dancing with him, not two-seconds after I walked away! I was admittedly tipsy (infraction number one), and I got jealous and decided on my own to start shit with this hussy (infraction number two). I remember how vivid my anger was,

I was literally seeing red. I had removed my heels and earrings and left them on the counter of the bar. I pulled my hair back and moved my rings on both hands to the middle and index fingers. Once ready, I proceeded to walk towards them, with the expressed decision to teach that bitch a lesson. I grabbed the back of her long wavy brown hair and snapped her head back. While her head was pulled back, I raised my hand in the air readying a back hand when Mark caught it and stopped me (infraction number three).

Mark was the angriest I'd ever seen him. He had the presence of mind not to yell my name, which would have help identify me to witnesses. He did grab my wrist and pulled me straight out the club. I grabbed my heels on the way out, my feet barely touched the ground, he pulled me so hard and fast.

"Why the fuck did you do that Marissa?" he yelled at me once we had fled a couple of blocks away and were almost at his car.

"That slut took less than two seconds to swarm in on you when I walked away!" I slurred. "It is disrespectful of that bitch, and I had to teach her a lesson," I tried to explain.

"I will dictate what is disrespectful and not Marissa," he tried to calmly tell me, but after he witnessed me roll my eyes, and as this was the ultimate sign of disrespect, the calmness rapidly was expelled.

"I own you! You do what I tell you!" he yelled at me, infuriated.

"I own you too, bitch!" I yelled back in anger, letting all decency and respect spray out of me in one sentence.

'Oh fuck!' I thought. I didn't mean for that to have slipped out. I was making a bad situation infinitely, worse.

That evening he had sent me home to my own place, and I was to stay out of his sight for one week. This punishment was horrendous on me physically. I had no appetite and my eyes were swollen for straight seven days from so much crying. When he took me back, we missed each other so much, I had felt perhaps our bond had grown, but clearly it hadn't because here we now where and he was asking me to basically, release myself from his ownerships.

I wished I could have gone back in time and caught myself before I made all these mistakes. I did not realize how all the little infractions plus one or two big ones would add up and damage the relationship so greatly. It was all my fault.

"Marissa, I cannot continue in a relationship with you, as my sub, if you cannot abide by our agreement. It is not fair to either of us, or the sanctity of this relationship."

He searched my face for some hint of recognition and understanding to what he was saying. I nodded my head to indicate my understanding.

"Tell me Marissa, why can't you honor me as your Master?" he pleaded again.

And then I saw it.

I saw in his eyes, doubt.

The doubt that he was not a good Master.

My actions made him question his worth as a Master. Rather than me being the source of our impending breakup, he felt it was his fault.

My heart swelled in my chest and the blood drained from my face. The room began to darken like a shade was slowly being drawn across a sunny window. I leaned forward to put my head between my knees to prevent myself from fainting.

"Breathe Marissa," Mark said softly as he put a hand on the back of my neck.

"I want the decision to be yours, Marissa. Are we worthy enough for each other? Am I worthy enough for you? Can we really make this relationship work?"

He sat back in the chair and let the worry leave his body as he had completed his sermon and laid everything on the line. All cards on the table, so to speak. He let out a long sigh.

Now that he was done saying what he had to say, he just looked down at me. In fact, he was doing more than just looking. I saw it with such clarity when I raised my head to look him in the eye. He was looking to me for help.

He needed his sub to do what only a sub can do for her Dom, her Master.

Support him.

Cherish him.

Elevate him.

Love him.

He needed me to heal his worry, pain and self-doubt. Instead of releasing me, he was in fact asking for me to help him. Help him become a better man, a better Dom.

He had, in one sentence, shifted the power to me when he uttered the words that pained my heart so, 'Am I worthy enough for you?'

I stared back at him thinking about what to do next. I had to honor him and return this rare and tremendous gift, this reverse power exchange.

I was so grateful that he relinquished control temporarily to me, to surrender to me, so that I could be empowered to do what I was made to do, to make him feel good, loved, important. To heal him.

He would remain seated and resist touching me. He was empowering me to open my heart to a greater capacity than I ever knew possible. I wanted to spread my angel wings and engulf him in them.

However, he wanted to push me to the brink of agony, by questioning the basis of our relationship, so that the fire in my soul would be ignited. But, when he questioned his worth as a man. That was my flash point.

The searing white heat of my resolve, passion and love for this man, when he needed me most, was simple immeasurable.

The heat from my core so great, angel wings disintegrated to reveal those of a phoenix. A phoenix to engulf him in flaming passion and love that can only be felt when displaying the greatest power of a woman. This is of course was not only my punishment, but my reward. He knew my remorse was genuine, and that in its self, was the apology he was looking for. He looked up at me, as if he could see the flaming nimbus I wore as my crown.

I felt my rebirth in that moment. I knelt before him.

"Mark, I want you now, and I will want you tomorrow and the day after and ten years from now! I want you always to be mine. To be my Master," I spoke firmly and with utmost confidence.

"Do you forgive me for all my infractions? I know that my actions caused you to doubt who you are as a man, and that is wrong. It was very cruel of me, and polar opposite of my duties, to do anything that would lead you down a path of self-doubt."

"You are my everything. I honor you. I am grateful for you. You are my Master."

He let out another sigh. His posture had changed and now he was sitting straight in the chair, he seemed taller and he was grinning with his eyes.

Now I asked him the hard question, "I need to know Mark, do you still want me?"

His expression changed immediately and he leaned forward and held my face in his hands.

"Marissa, never ever think you aren't the woman I want forever, " he said with every word measured. The meaning behind these words was more than anybody could ever possibly understand.

He had taken a line from one of my poems that ended with, "…Never ever think you aren't the man I want forever."

Although I stood before him naked, the soft exterior was now covered with chain mail, as he had empowered me to confirm our continued unification, to take ownership of him. I wore the beautiful figure hugging chain mail dress to display my sexy female outline, bits of flesh interspersed with heavy metal, and an external protection to mimic the confidence I possessed inside. I was again assured of our perfect union with the knowledge that he would never intentionally harm my heart.

"Master, please punish me for all my infractions and all the harm I have done to our relationship," I said as I slyly passed the power baton back to his figurative waiting, twitching, and outreached hand.

"Marissa! Bend over and stay that way until I say different!" he said firmly, confidence dripped from his voice.

"Yes, Sir!" I barked.

He left the room, after unlocking and pushing roughly the door open. The door left swinging as I heard his heavy footsteps walk away.

I was bent over into a forward fold grabbing my ankles. He had left me alone in this position for what seemed like an hour. My legs were quivering with fatigue, but I stayed in position.

Out of nowhere, he had once again sneaked up on me.

He was naked, and his member was so swollen and dripping that I could not believe what I was seeing. I had never seen his erection, so on the verge of climaxing.

My pussy immediately began to weep. I had never seen anything as fucking hot as my Master's cock, in full bloom, and on the brink of exploding.

Within seconds, he was in me and pounding relentlessly. His hands were around my ass squeezing so hard and pulling each my cheeks apart to see the full and complete act of penetration. He was such a dirty minded Master. He was my Master.

Within a minute of him entering me, he exploded in my ass, his all time favorite orifice. He squeezed my ass cheeks some more, as he rode the last waves of his orgasm, leaving red imprints in each cheek. He pulled out and quickly kneeled below my spread ass and opens his mouth to let our cum pour out of me into his mouth like a man who has been lost in the desert for weeks and just found water. He raised up on his knees until his mouth was buried in my ass and proceeded to suck out every last drop of our cum.

He then stood up, spun me around and pushed my shoulders back. He positioned his mouth directly above mine and let his gift seep out from his mouth into mine. I stuck out my tongue, to catch every bit and savour our fluid amalgamation.

He leaned in and we kissed passionately, swirling our fluids and shunting it between our mouths. Finally he let me have all the fluids, then broke our kiss. I swallowed completely our cocktail.

It was, the most delicious fucking thing I had ever tasted. If fucking came in a liquid form, then I just had drank a shot of 100 proof sex!

Mark knelt down next to me and grabbed the necklace from the bed. He tenderly pushed back the hair on my shoulders with both hands, and then attached the necklace.

I looked down at the necklace, back in its rightful place around my neck. I petted it and looked up at Mark and beamed.

We smiled at each other, both knowing we were in our rightful places. In our chosen roles, by each other's side.