. something here. I just can’t figure out what,” I said, not turning to look at her.“Was the room like this before you came in, or did you screw up the ‘don’t move stuff or mess up the scene’ part of my instructions?”“It was like this. There’s a safe in the wall,” I pointed absently at the safe, still not taking my eyes off the room, “that’s been emptied.”She walked past me and over to the safe.“Your friend’s father sucked at hiding stuff. This painting has weird dimensions; it just screams ‘look behind me’.”And just like that, I realized what I’m missing.“You’re a genius,” I said.“By comparison ... without a doubt.”I ignored her jab. She couldn’t help it. The fact that she was still helping me despite her allergy - or whatever - to my genetics, said a lot about her. After hating her for more than a year, it was weird to find each insult made me like her that much more.“From the outside of the house, the window is several feet from the corner of the building. This is the last room in. I begin to cry, it doesn’t move you. I fall down before you, grab your ankles and kiss your feet with my lips and my tears. I hear you sigh so there is hope you won’t walk out, at least not yet. “Bend over the bed slave!” you say. I hurriedly do so all the while nervous as you reach for the belt that is ever present in our chamber. “Why would you defy me this way, what were you thinking slave? You were certainly not thinking of your Master, were you?” Whack! The belt lands on my ass and I flinch involuntarily and gasp. “You will not say a word or move slave.” Whack! Whack! Whack! I bite my lip. Whack! Whack! Whack! I can surely taste my own blood now. Whack! Whack! Whack! A moan involuntarily escapes my lips and I squirm. You grab my hair pulling my head back making me gasp. “You were told not to move or make a sound slave.” Whack! Whack! Whack! Tears are running down my face now and I cannot control the whimpering sounds in my throat. Whack! Whack! Whack! I’m crying uncontrollably.
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