Saving Leah

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Leah's POV

Master brings his belt down on me one last time. He steps away to examine the long red lines marring my back.

"Good girl, Leah!" He runs his hand over the red welts, making me wince. I smile at the praise and wipe away my tears. I thank him, happy I could do something right for once.

Master hangs up the belt on the punishment wall before going over to the medicine cabinet. I feel a pout beginning to spread on my face as he opens up the cabinet to pull out the alcohol spray.

"Come here and kneel," Master instructs.

"Yes, Sir," I respond solemnly, crawling over to him. With each movement, my back flares up from my lacerations.

Master moves my hair from my back before generously spraying the alcohol over my wounds. I bite my lip to stop myself from screaming. The alcohol isn't any form of relief. It only makes the cuts and welts more painful.

I don't dare reject Master's generosity or kindness though. Making sure my wounds don't lead to infection, is one of the small caring actions Master does for me.

Once he is satisfied, Master puts the bottle away in the medicine cabinet and gets out the collar he has me wear at night. Although I have never ran away from him, he makes me wear one, so he could track me if I tried to run while he slept.

The pain of previous punishments reminds me not to ask Master to loosen the collar, or stay with me until I fall asleep.

Master doesn't like when I ask him things, so instead of asking him anything at all, I am a good girl and thank him for our playtime before painfully crawling over to my corner where I sleep. "Goodnight, Master. I love you," I call after him softly as he leaves, causing him to turn around and look at me.

I know it was a mistake to speak without permission once I see his unreadable expression. I had good intentions, but that didn't mean I hadn't spoken to him without permission.

Master turns and leaves without returning my good wishes. It hurts me a little, but I am thankful he didn't punish me. Even though it upset me that he didn't respond, it wasn't uncommon because he never wished me a good night.

After he is gone, I lay down on the concrete, wishing I had been good enough to sleep in Master's room. The carpet in there is much nicer than the concrete flooring here. I understand though that if I want a luxury like that, I will have to try harder.

I always try to be good and make Master happy, but I usually end up messing up and making him angry. I let out a frustrated sigh.

I absentmindedly play with the collar. I try not to think about how it is squeezing my windpipe, but it doesn't work leaving the only think for me to do is cringe.

I have always hated collars.

When Master had first gotten me, I fought with him because I didn't want a collar. He always won though. Consequently, I wear collars a lot. I don't know if it's because Master knows I hate them, or because he likes them, but either way I wear them an awful lot.

The concrete walls and floor of my room quickly suck the heat out of me, leaving me a shivering mess. My teeth chatter and I wrap my arms around my torso, careful not to touch the new welts on my back.

I selfishly wish for a blanket, but I stop immediately and remind myself that Master has been very generous giving me a home and love even though I am probably not even worth that much.

At the thought of Master loving me, I feel a smile growing on my face. Master is the only person who has ever loved me before. I never had parents growing up. If I did, I don't remember them at all. The past is nothing but a blur. Master is the only one who has told me he loved me.