Disclaimer: Don't own them, or the silk restraints, or the strap on, or the ball gag, or the violet wand, or the... well, you get the idea ;)

A/N: I don't know what came over me, but I'm not apologizing.

WARNING: CONTAINS POWER PLAY. If that's not your thing, this is where you get off. If it *is* your thing, get off later ;)

Dedications: To a friend of mine, who thought she couldn't find someone with a dirtier mind than her. Then she met me. Problem solved.

Enjoy.

They call me Captain. She calls me pet.

I call her Mistress.

I scream her name as I draw close, cry out if she stops.

I bow to her every will, lie still when she tells me; bite my tongue, cheek, lip as she tells me not to scream.

She brings me to the edge, teetering on the brink, she knows how much I need release. Drawing ever closer, growing ever wetter. But she pulls away. Leaves me hanging.

I can't scream.

I can't move.

I can't come.

She laughs when she pulls away, smirks when she touches me again.

I need her to touch me again, I need her more than I need to breathe.

I live for the pain she allows me, the scratching, the biting, the exquisite torture.

I feel alive when she touches me. I live for my Mistress.

She lives for the power, the control.

I forget how this started, it's no longer important to me. All that matters is that she will allow me release, that she will allow me pleasure, that I can do the same for her in return.

I live for my Mistress, my Borg Goddess.

I live for my Seven.

Thank you for reading. :)