There she stood, in her home, the home she shared with him. He spoke not, but she knew he was always there, his presence was a strong, powerful one, so graceful it made her breath hitch in her throat. She was upon her knees, asking of him to reveal to her what were the ways she could please him best, for she was broken, but he loved her, and that love she had to repay.

Yet his mute lips revealed nothing, nothing but a scornful silence. She should know how to satisfy him, how dare she not? Shameful. Filthy. Broken. He'd written words of rule for her to follow long ago, how dare she be forgetful of him? Of what she owed him?

She knew she had failed him, she knew as the waves of crushing shame and guilt beat upon her, for she knew punishment awaited her. How could she be such a fool? So..so..ignorant to what he'd so clearly and plainly laid out for her to follow, how arrogant had she allowed her broken soul to grow, that her mind had lended itself a moment adrift, losing sight of what her heart and soul were so deeply embedded to.

Satisfying him, being exactly who he asked of her to be, for his love had set her free from the gloom, so he'd claimed to her, now her body and mind belonged to him, she owed him her freedom, for that she must dedicate all her thoughts, actions and words to honour him, so that she may hope, by her last breath's exhale, she had been what he had wanted, she had fulfilled his needs, she had repaid at least a quarter of his glorious love.

For what was she, if not his maiden? Who was she, if not what his perfect love asked of her to be? Nothing, noone, alone and discarded, abandoned deep within a cold, cold cage only he could free her from, if he were ever to forgive such an insult. But she would not allow it to come to that, for she was good, he'd made her pure, twas her duty to repay him for all he'd done for her.

He'd opened her eyes to light, to feelings she'd never known before, feelings he and only he could provide her with, and only by remaining completely and fully loyal and devoted to him, would she ever be able to bear the fruits of his love and care for her.

So she'd risen from her knees, her mind foggy with great awe of him and his absolutely perfect nature and she grabbed gentle hold of his writings, something utmost holy her broken soul should not lay eyes upon in fear of having tainted it, yet his love was so pure, his nature so loving that he'd granted her right to his sacred writings. Her fingers trembled and her voice lost sound, for just the mere presence of his writings in her hands filled her to the brim with hapiness, uncontrollable pride at having been the special, chosen one to hold them. As she looked upon the writings in her filthy hands, she was reminded of her position beneath him. The rules contained were for her to ascend, and to follow perfectly. And she would, she vowed she would, all until the very last one, for only his satisfaction and approval could ever bring her joy. Her twisted mind and battered nature could not relish in anything else but his love.

And so, she took a deep breath that filled her lungs and fell upon her knees once more, opening the Holy Bible....