I halved another cantaloupe and said, “Watch and learn. You don’t shove the seeds off. They’re those glistening folds you know so well. You…yo... ease them off with your tongue. It’s not a race, it’s a delicious moment for both of you.” She leaned over close to me and watched as I let my tongue tease the stem of the melon and then as I used the flat of my tongue to repeatedly remove one layer of seeds after another. When I pushed the last few seeds off with the tip of my tongue she let out the. He was patient and allowed me to drink my fill. I always had to eat and drink this way, from his hand, my own hands bound and useless, my sustenance his to offer or withhold as it pleased him to do. "Thank you, Master," I said, automatically, as soon as the bottle left my lips. Then, a second later, "Master, slave begs to speak." "Speak, slave," his reply. Again I was following protocol as I spoke, "Master, slave thanks Master for being allowed to drink. Slave begs Master to be allowed to renew. More

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