Ribbons & Bows
The Best of Both Worlds
Releases November 30, 2015
Author Robbie Cox
Get the pre-order discount by ordering now for ONLY .99¢ on Amazon at http://amzn.to/1MsVNcU.
~~However, he didn’t make her wait long. With the tongs, he pulled the steaks from the grill, placing them on the paper plate. Once he had them all stacked in a neat pile, he closed the lid to the grill, finally turning to face her, the steaks a barrier between them. She could feel the lump of desperation in her throat as she waited for his words to strike her, knowing she deserved whatever was spewed at her in his anger.
He stared into her eyes for just a moment before glancing down at the steaks in his hands. “Grilling steaks to me is relaxing,” he said. “First, I make sure I have the perfect cuts of meat from the butcher. Then I marinate them in a sauce that I created, not some off-the-shelf brand, but a savory concoction of my own design of just the right spices and sauces. I then sit them on the grill, which I have heated to the perfect temperature for what I desire, and watch, timing just when to flip them and then, at just the right moment, I pull them off the grill, so that they don’t cook too long, losing their flavor. I know how I want them to taste and just how long to leave them over the flame to make sure they are exactly as I’ve designed.
“In a way, the master/slave relationship is the same for me. I watch for just the right person, making sure she’s ready for the flame that must come in order to test her endurance for a life of servitude. I then marinate her in the training of being a submissive, of learning how to serve me in just the right way, so that we are both satisfied with the outcome. Then, I put her in the flame, knowing just how much heat to bring up to make her the perfect woman for me, the perfect submissive. I know just how long to leave her over the flame so that she doesn’t burn out. She trusts me to know just how long to leave her over the heat in order to produce the perfect submissive.
“However, every once in a while, the butcher gives me an imperfect piece of meat. I don’t realize it at first, sometimes, so I go through the process, marinating it, setting the grill to the right temperature, cooking it to perfection. Yet, when I cut into it, it’s tough and the flavor isn’t what was expected. It’s not the butcher’s fault nor is it mine. The steak is just bad. There’s nothing to do then except throw it away and start over with another steak.” He looked into her eyes as he walked over to the trash bin and dumped the steaks inside. He then turned his back on her and walked away.~~