You weren’t sure how long it had been. The days seemed to blur together, the weeks, months?
At first it had been so hard. When he had first bought you. To be kept inside, without your freedom. It took a long time to train you, you were so resistant. Always fighting and trying to escape.
Soon you learned the more you fought the more you were punished though. The spankings, the whippings, they were painful enough. But the worst was the feeling of shame. You were so ashamed because deep down you liked it.
Life in the master’s house wasn’t so bad after all. Each morning you would get dressed and put on the pretty outfit he left out for you. You had to admit he had good taste. He would always leave out dresses, sometimes long and flowing past your knees, sometimes short enough that you never felt quite covered.
You even started to get used to your collar, with its little tinkling bell that rattled as you walked around the house, vacuuming and mopping, dusting and polishing.