It was he who spoke.“Good morning, friend,” he said, nodding at me. “Have you ever given much thought to the Bible?”“As a matter of fact,”...I said candidly, “I have.”As a matter of fact, I had. I was in the midst of a masters degree in early modern literature, the largely proportion of which is deeply Christian in content. That previous year I had taken an intensive course on the Bible as Literature, and was intimately familiar with Christian philosophers from Augustine to Aquinas.None of which. I was doing my best not to become a bitch queen and scream at him, but I was struggling with my anger. I’d inherited my looks from my mother, but my temper from my father. Pietro kept putting an arm around me, patting and squeezing my bottom and fondling my breasts in front of the other men. Because of the way he was treating me, like a cheap prostitute, - prostituta a buon mercato, they started taking liberties themselves and I’d pushed away more than one hand attempting to grope me, not. ”So that is how I spent my first meal as Master’s full time Slave, eating from a bowl on the floor like an animal at my Master’s feet. Master seemed to enjoy watching me eat this way, and would regularly reach out and stroke my buttocks, sometimes giving them a sharp slap, before softly stroking them again.Once he had finished eating Master stood up saying“You may stand and continue your day now Slave.”And with that he left the room.7.That Sunday morning I was to receive my first caning in the. I purposely used to go and sit on the chair ahead of her so that I could get a glimpse of her cleavage. Sometimes while she would be hanging clothes to dry and when she stood on her toes, her navel and hips would become visible. I was plotting how to get her to bed. Then I came across a story in which a guy had placed a spy can in a lady’s bathroom and blackmailed her that if she didn’t agree, he would post the video online. I thought if doing a similar thing but instead of bathroom I chose her.