I remember the terrible silence of the women and looking around and seeing a pair of stays, torn to shreds and saturated in urine and cum. I remember ...ondering who they belonged to.I remember the Gens d'Armes displaying the bloody results of their torture and shoving it into my face, and the red puddles seeping slowly into the bare earth.I remember it as if it were yesterday.I remember two women being brought into the square, modest women, reverent women who prayed in Church and never missed. It was one of her Master's favorite dishes, a pot roast, and she wanted it to come out perfect. Finally she had finished cooking it and while it "rested" on the counter top, she went to his study to see if he was ready for dinner."Master?" she said, tapping lightly on the door."Enter." Dinner is about ready, Master," she said, coming up and standing beside the desk, her head lowered and her hands clasped together in front of her. He looked up from his computer screen at her. "Thank you, slut. I. More

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