Nark "Biitttccchhh..." he snarls in her face, saliva pummeling down on her skin as he stares down into her eyes. They are in a small area of the compound. There are several large containers, made of rusting steel, where the company stores old sacks and bits and pieces that no one has a use for but nobody can decide whether they need to be thrown away or not. His hand closes on her neck. Those long fingers that have often found purchase there during their intimate moments (if what they do could be considered intimate) squeeze inwards, cutting off air and stressing the tendons inside so that they close and restrict the air from flowing. The hard steel of the wall pushes into her uniform and into her spine. She can feel the many grooves of its rusted surface pressing in on odd angles here and there and causing her stiffness and hurt where they do. The rust is peeling off and will no doubt be staining her top. It feels odd to be choking (and so used to it by now) while worrying about her clothing. His hand comes away and slaps across her cheek. She jerks forward as her knees give way and her body slips to the floor so that she is kneeling under his huge hunched frame. She gasps for air with wide eyes and stares at the sack strewn floor below her. She knew that this was coming. It was only a question of when. "Tell me why you did this to me and I might be lenient with you." He unbuckles his slim belt at the silver belt buckle and slowly slides it out, loop by loop, until it is hanging low down by his side, gripping in a hand that's artistically flared fingers have caressed her more often than hurt. The long length of leather glitters in the faint light given off from the dust covered light bulb above. He is going to hurt her this time; she just knows it. "You've been fucking other girls," she jerks out, her chest wrenching upwards as a tear slips down her cheek. He tilts his head slightly. There is silence between them. "I see and that was why you told that fool that little lie of yours?" She nods her head. "I don't ever want to see you again." He stands there looking at her. In him there was anger, but that has cooled. This fool has accused him of something she cannot prove. He could just let it go, but that would not teach the toy who her master really is. "You will go to the supervisor and tell her the truth. You will tell her that it was you who is stealing and that you will take your punishment immediately." "NO! I'll be fired." He waits and watches. "Of course, you will. The fool has a strong rage in her. She will have your head and everything with it." "Eric, you can't do this to me. If I go to her it is all over. I can't see you anymore." "So? You are nothing to me anyway as you are." "What? How could you say that?" "Well, why would I want a woman that is as weak as you? Didn't you see how much more attention I paid you than the others? Did you think that you could capture my eye with just a little play? I don't need a woman that won't go all the way." "But I can be that woman, Eric. Just listen." He turns from her and starts towards the door. "Please, Eric. I can really do this. I can be the type of woman that you need. Just let me try; just let me prove myself." If she could see the look on his face, she would think twice about that statement. What Eric truly wants is something that no woman could really possibly give. "You say such pretty things, but do you have anything in that head of yours to back it up?" He turns and walks over to her, grasping her jaw and pulling her tear strained face upwards into the light. "Do you have what it takes to be my woman?" She closes her eyes and whispers, begs, that she does. "Then take off all of your clothing and give it to me." She stands slowly, determination in her stance betrayed only by the firm press of her left knee to the right. "I will do this. I will make you mine." "Many have said; few have done." She reaches up and pulls her reddish,