I’d been stripped naked before being carried up the stairs and thrown on the bed. Stripped might be too polite a term. My clothes had been torn from...me. My dress in shreds, my bra and panties ruined.“Fuck slaves don’t get to wear clothes,” my Miss had told me as what was left of my garments was tossed aside leaving me with only my pretty pink collar encircling my throat.Sometimes I was her slut or her whore. Or so many of the other humiliating names she called me. Today was different. I was her. His emotions pointed it out not as a lie but something more grey like leaving out bits of the truth. I guess he knew some of his gang would terrorise the two of them in a heart beat, they were smart enough not to do any permanent damage but anything else was fair game."See that you don't," I said coldly finding myself on my feet somehow, "You lot have been almost as bad as Pures who tried to kill D. Terrorising others just for kicks, you're nothing but a bunch of stupid bullies!" Well I...". More

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