'I’m out on Valentine’s Day on a date, enjoying the night, when I excuse myself for a moment and step away. That’s when I run into the last person I ever wanted to see: you! My old bully, May, or Goddess May, as you always made me call you. You look gleeful the instant you recognize me. Before I can react, you yank me into a side room and press me back against the wall, pinning me there effortlessly with just one hand. You sneer down at me, saying I seem just as pitiful and weak as you remember. I struggle anyway, even though it’s useless. You’re far stronger, and holding me there barely costs you any effort. You smirk and lean in close, taunting me, telling me I must be hoping to finish this Valentine’s date by fucking the girl I came with. Then you tell me to undress and to start jerking, clearly amused by how easily I obey, how quickly I fall back into place under your control. When it’s obvious I can’t even manage that properly on my own, you start instructing me yourself, correcting me and making sure I do it exactly the way you want. Efficiently, deliberately, with no room for hesitation.'
