It appeared that she had mistakenly put two tablespoons of spice in the soup instead of two teaspoons and had ruined the whole pan full. The young gir..., probably no more than thirteen years old, was sobbing and pleading that's how much she'd been told to put in. I was sorry for the girl but knew there was nothing I could do to stop the inevitable punishment. "She'll really catch it," Isla whispered to me, "Georgina's in a real bad mood today."Minutes later, she was ordered to remove her robe. Slut. I've only really come to accept it recently, but for most of my life I've always managed to find some kind of excuse for my slutty behaviour. I'm also a very self-critical person, so for most of my life I've been judging and berating myself. But no longer. I'm owning who I am, for better, or for worse. And so, I've decided to write down all my naughty escapades, starting from the innocent beginning. I lived quite a sheltered childhood. My mum left my dad and I when I was younger, so I. I was basically her slave.She’d always bring men into our home. We’d hear her screaming and moaning. Her bed would make noises up against the wall. Most of the time, the men would just stay for an hour and then be on their way. Sometimes, they’d stay the night and would be at the breakfast table the next morning. They were usually very nice, but occasionally there were dirt bags. The men who expected stuff. However, I never did anything, even though sometimes they'd ask.My mother would always. ."Kathryn smiled at me, pleased that I was catching on so quickly. "That'sright. You're my 20 percent." Well... uh..." I stammered, trying to figure out if what she said was acompliment or not. "Thanks." Why, you're welcome. So you work at home?" Yes. I'm a software consultant - really more of a freelanceprogrammer." I sliced opened up the foil on the wine."But it looks like you've got a steady paycheck... of $8,250 a month?" What?" I looked up, shocked. Kathryn had picked up my checkbook.