I looked down at young girl on the bed, snoring softly, sucking her thumb. I smiled at that affectation. Hers’ was different from mine, it was less playing at being a little and simply a retreat of kid who had seen years of abuse. Despite the sheer sheet partially draped over her, those years were quite visible on her form. Not from what her dad had done to her, but scars from heavy cutting on her thighs and arms.

Her naked form was marked now in a different way, one much more familiar to me. Bruises marked her all over, as did wide straps from the belting they had both given her earlier. Oh, how she had screamed and cried and begged for more and more until she collapsed from exhaustion. The young lady seemed to exist in only two states, intense and down/muted/sleeping. In that way, she was much the cat, our adopted little kitten, a broken toy who came alive when we hurt her. That, I understood as well.

“Still sleeping?” my Master asked, to which I nodded the affirmative.

“We need to break or ease that nose habit of hers though. She picked up some bad habits from him,” I replied. He slapped my ass, smirking at me.