Part 2

She awoke to the sun caressing her face. As she slowly came to being fully awake, she was suddenly aware of all her muscles. Stiff.

She pulled her eyes open, the first thing she saw was the design laid out on her kitchen floor.

The last thing she remembers seeing were Stephen's black leather oxfords.

"Funny, their not here anymore" she thought calmly to herself.

With a deep sigh, she slowly sat up, running her fingers through her tangled tresses. Still feeling sore and groggy, she grabbed onto the counter to pull herself up. Blinking a few times, she was still unsure what happened. Did Stephen really leave her there, knelt on the kitchen floor, even to sleep there? Alone? She ran these thoughts through her head as she went about her usual morning routine.

With the sharp smell of coffee brewing, she hobbled to the bathroom, to take a shower. To get rid of the slick feeling that was covering her skin.

Feeling the bullets shoot from the shower-head, she had to use her total strength to remain standing.

Pondering on how she's going to spend her day, she doesn't hear the faint noises coming from her bedroom. She decides that since it is her day off, she will spend the day in her soft, comfortable, cotton pajamas.

With that thought, she turned off the water, and stepped out, wrapping herself into a giant terry cloth towel.

As she steps into her room to get dressed, the first thing she sees is Stephen. She pulls the towel tighter against her skin, and gazes out at Him. She opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. She stands there, amazed, shocked.

She had no idea that He was still in the house. She thought that He had left. To take care of whatever it is that He does.

She begins to fume at the fact that she was neglected. She had never had to sleep alone. Her eyes showed the extreme displeasure of her situation.

Stephen stands there, next to the unmade bed. There is evidence that He spent the night, peacefully sleeping. Which angers her even more.

"You left me alone. You have never left me to sleep, like a dog, on the floor. And then, You have the nerve, to sleep? Here? In bed? While I was on the floor, did it even occur to You to even wake me up? To bring me next to Your side?!?"

She rattled the words, quickly, in a steady, cold tone. Her chest heaving with her deep jagged breaths, her eyes glittering. She still had hold of her towel, and her knuckles were white.

Stephen hears the agitation in her voice. He sees the fire in her eyes, noticing the towel around her. And while she is raging at Him, He lets out a sleepy yawn, and eases His feet into His warm slippers.

"Are you finished?"

She stops abruptly, mid-sentence, and looks Him fully in the face. No, she's not finished. But she caves in defeat as she realizes that He's not really listening to her at all.

"Im just wondering if were done. I don't have to explain anything to you. I don't answer to you. Now, if you'll excuse Me"...

Stephen strolls out of the room, and into the coffee scented kitchen.

"Sophia! Where is my coffee?!?"

"Your coffee is in the coffee pot!"

She's busy throwing on her pajamas, wincing at the slowly loosening of her leg muscles. She knows she shouldn't have just said that, and regrets it immediately. As she throws socks over her feet, hopping out the door, she watches Stephen making a cup for Himself.

"Please. Im sorry. I shouldn't have answered Your question like that. But I really had no idea that You spent the night. I should ask for forgiveness."

Stephen looks at her with his soft, blue eyes. He sees her leaning in the doorway, fighting with her socks, and amusement fills His face.

She finally has her socks properly on her feet. She then walks over to the counter, and leans her elbows on it, placing her chin in her hands. She sees amusement in His eyes, and that makes her agitated again.

"Are You hungry? I could make up some french toast if You'd like"

Her voice came out soft, subdued. Her eyes were light, with a faint smile in them.

"The least I could do for You. Unless You have a busy day ahead of Yourself. After all, I failed to have Your coffee ready."

Stephan is regarding her offering. He also realizes that she never did ask forgiveness. Looking her up and down, noting the white tee shirt, and her mismatched socks, He laughs to Himself.

"No. I don't think Ill eat here. Its time I got out of here, to let you clean up the place. Its rather disorganized, and you wont have the time to do it tonight."

He drained his cup, left it on the counter. As he walked out the front door, He turned to Sophia.

"Mine. Look down at your feet. And before you run off to fix it, come here."

She takes a quick glance, and sees her socks are two different colors. She blushes at the mistake, and quickly walks over to Him.

Stephen bends down, searching her eyes, and leans in for a biting, hard sudden kiss.

"I will see you tonight, Mine"

He caresses her face, moving hair out of her eyes. He runs a finger over her mouth, her neck.

"I hope you will make Me proud Sophia. I want you to see, feel, taste, hear the pain that you will be receiving tonight."

And with that, Stephen walks out the door, leaving her speechless.

She stands there, staring at the door. She wonders what what Stephen has planned for her. True, she had never been whipped for punishments sake. She had never had to endure pain, for pains sake. Its always been pleasurable, even orgasmic.

She smiled at this, remembering the last time Stephen and her had some time together. The stinging lashes, the burning flame. And the orgasms. Oh yes. Stephen didn't even have to penetrate her. He just had to whip and burn her pale, smooth, soft flesh.

She looked down at her socks, smiling to herself. She doesn't bother changing them. She finds her feet, charming.

With a contented sigh, Sophia begins her morning chores. She washes dishes, gathering spare cups and glasses that are scattered around her house. She notices the ring on her table, hoping that she could polish it out.

She gets the urge to listen to music, so she walks over to her CD collection. Her hazel yellow eyes scans her options, and she then finds what she calls her house cleaning music. With Joe Strummer screaming about London Calling, she sets off into the bathroom.

She's in the middle of being in the bathtub, scrubbing the sides, on her hands and knees, when she feels a pair of eyes on her back She turns around, and sits down in the damp floor of the tub. She's looking at Lawrence.