“YES!”, I yelped.“Yes WHAT?!”, she asked, increasing the pressure.“YES VICKY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!”, I sobbed.“Yes MISTRESS Vicky! Say...it!”, she yelled at me, squeezing and pulling now.“YES MISTRESS VICKY, YES YES YES MA’AM!”And just like that, she released her grip on my testicles. I fell forward on the bed, crying in pain. Vicky laid back on the bad calmly, lit an Eve120 cigarette (I was in too much pain to watch or care), and she said, “Make us breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, juice.. My toys were arranged and waiting on the bedside table. Per Robert's order, a mirror was set up directly across from my bed. I was to look at myself until his call. A year ago, this was a struggle. Through his insistence, I've come to appreciate my reflection. The small lines at the corners of my brown eyes, the grey beginning at the temples of my dark brown hair, the slight sag of my once firm B-cup breasts, and the small roll at my belly. I once felt betrayed by all of these traits; now I. More

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