My master went throught the formalities of getting us a room. I stood quietly in the background, so as not to attract attention to myself. I really don't want him to be mad at me.

His beatings hurt. Now, I enjoy some pain with my love, but not to the degree he inflicts on me. It is just not fun.

I tug nervously at my collar. I wish that I could get one that was at least attractive. This Roman boiled leather was harsh on my throat. I am afraid that my neck is raw.

He leads me up to the room we will share, and it is better than I assumed. Hopefully, being here will not be too terrible