I imagine she'd have carried the hope of freedom as her excuse for doing anything I asked. Perhaps she assumed that I'd kill her if she disobeyed. The...truth is worse, and she starts to cry in earnest. The sight of her chained up and crying, it's too much. I snatch up a cat o' nine tails and whip the front of the Post full force. Red streaks are left behind the leather straps' path, marking her tits and stomach. The Post shrieks in surprised pain before regaining her composure. Her mind catches. He showed her to a large but sparse bedroom on the first floor, complete with an en-suite bathroom. Apart from the bed, vanity and wardrobe, there was nothing else in the room bar a lonely armchair. "There is a study across the hall for you to do your work. We try to separate personal from work space, it helps with concentration."Abigail nodded and dumped her suitcase on the bed. "So what are the classes like here? Do you just make me do maths equations from 9 to 5 every day?" Not at all. More

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