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He flipped on the over-head light. He looked me over again, obviously scrutinizing my ragged and unkept condition, then removed the thick collar from around my neck. "I would like you to shave. It appears that your previous owner had no care for proper grooming." He opened the towel-closet and removed a disposable razor. He sat it on the edge of the bath, before turning and walking further up the hallway and into a room.

I filled the large tub, and cleaned myself mechanically. I washed my foul mid-back length onyx hair, rinsing out the grime under the running faucet. I used my fingers, dipping them into my defiled and still sore hole, to scoop the remains of creature's seed into the tub. Then unrestricted, I scrubbed myself until my skin felt bruised, but almost clean. Finally, I took up the razor, and removed every unwanted hair from below my neck.

I drained the tub, watching the polluted water disappear. Then I filled the tub again, with nearly scalding hot water. I thoroughly washed myself again and leaned back to enjoy the extreme warmth as it softened my skin. I wanted to be perfect for my master. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what he could possibly have in mind for me. His talk of making me 'whole' again had me baffled. What did it matter if I was shattered inside or had no hope, as long as my heart still pumped to sate his hungers I was serving my purpose. I was a slave, a mere blood doll, and my mental state had no part of that. My sole reason for living was to die in his clutches, nothing more.

I slowly opened my eyes, and jumped when I saw my master seated silently on the floor beside the tub, his face only a few inches from mine. He wore a disappointed frown again, and again I questioned silently if he had been witness to my thoughts, or worse, that even clean I was undesirable to him.

He laughed then, confirming that he could indeed hear my thoughts. "I found you desirable even when you had several months worth of grime on you, and seeing you clean could take my breath away. Your thoughts trouble me, but I understand you being unsettled." He sighed, standing slowly. "I would like you to get settled into our routine here before we tear down your long guarded walls." He turned and pulled a plush dark green towel from the closet and held it open for me.

I pulled the drain on the tub and stood, then quickly stepped into the open towel. Master wrapped it around me, and began to towel me off. Still patting me dry, he urged me out of the bathroom. We walked briskly down the hall, and through the door at the end of the long hall.

Once we were inside, my Master let the towel drop to the floor, and began running his long fingers delicately over my heated skin. "You will not yield to me." He ordered me softly, as he began touching my face. "I wish to look you over, but I do not wish you bare your vein, or to spread your legs." His fingers moved slowly across my cheeks and then down my neck. He gently probed my throat and shoulders, his touch lingering on the scars that totally disfigured my sun-starved skin. "You've been a slave to my kind for a long time." He said, as his fingers moved over my arms, and he took up my wrist, again to see the scars that covered my arms.

I gasped as he moved to fondle my breasts. As he cupped my tiny boobs, I hung my head knowing that I was incapable, even well-fed of filling those large hands. He pinched my nipples, skillfully taunting them erect, then leaning close to inspect the old wounds there as well. "You've had it rough, haven't you. None of your past owners ever cared about the hurt they inflicted." He spoke quietly. I was unsure if he was actually speaking to me, or just musing aloud, so I held my tongue.

He dropped to his knees, looking over my concave stomach, and at the freshly shaved junction between my legs.

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