Gasping for breath, the male scurried up to his Mistress and dropped the stick at her feet. She patted his head affectionately and gently stroked his face. Then, without pause for him to rest, the Lady tossed the stick back into the water. At full speed, the slave dived in and swam towards it. Mistress Sin sat idly smoking as her dog retrieved the stick time and time again. She could clearly see that he was cold and weary, but she continued to play the game. Each time he dived in, the man found it more and more difficult to retrieve the object as it drifted away on the current.

The slave crawled back onto the bank for what must have been the tenth time of asking, and stumbled wearily towards Mistress Sin. She patted him affectionately and then pressed the remains of her lighted cigarette between his lips. He managed to chew it before it burnt him too badly, but it made him even more breathless. His heart pounded visibly and his chest rose and fell like a set of overworked bellows.

Without a second thought, Mistress Sin stood up and threw the stick into the river again. This time it went further than before. The slave romped into the ripples, his arms flapping under the water for all he was worth. Progress was hard and tiring.

“Fetch it!” Mistress Sin ordered, seeing the stick floating away towards the turbulent waters of the weir. The slave redoubled his efforts, splashing and kicking frantically to get to his Mistress's precious stick. Each time he tried to catch it, the twig ran an inch out of reach. The slave could hardly breathe and his head bobbed up and down, under the water. In sheer desperation, the man managed to turn himself around and kicked for the shore. He took in mouthfuls of water as he swam desperately towards the bank. The current took him away from the land, and he used his last ounce of strength to finally push himself where he needed to go.