As she looked through her closet, she wondered what he would want her to wear. Something black, red or maybe purple, probably nothing at all. Her body was in good shape, with long legs and a tight ass, tits pointed high and a lovely face, not a bad combination, she thought to herself. Looking in the mirror, she wondered how this had happened when she had fought hard to become an independent and strong woman. Power and pride fed her every move, and it took all her control not to fight back, but master was all that mattered now. He was the master and she was his bitch. nnAs they rode in his car, she could feel the tension mounting between them. When would it start? Please say it, she begged in her mind. nnBitch. When he said it the wetness flowed out of her. God, she loved to be called that. Bitch. Her eyes turned downward and face went flush with the warmth of desire. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. All because of a single word? Bitch. That word made her feel anger and shame. No man had ever called her that. How could he call her that?