המסע לנצחון.

I want her lunging to the end of her chain. I want her spitting at me with anger flashing in her eyes. Then I want to laugh at her. I want the tears to come. I want to listen to the sobbing and the occasional glance with the pleading eyes. I want to see her bring out her seduction to entice me. I want to watch this seduction then ignore it. I wait for acquiescence. I wait for resignation and her realization that the usual feminine wiles used to get what she wants with most men are no longer effective. She is stripped of those manipulative tools.

When she is nearly beyond caring, I want her head laying on my thigh to take a few grains of rice from my fingers.