"Oh, by the way slut. You are in my house. Until I deem necessary, no onewill know you're here," I hear him walk out of the room and close the door.... curl up into the small cage and moan. "Silence bitch!" I hear. I stiflequickly.Over the next 2-3 months, I really don't know the time anymore as Daddytrained me to be the perfect slave. I keep his house clean; I feed him andservice him to his liking. I am at his beck and call. We shop togetherand he chooses the clothing I wear. I do not. .. but... something was off. Were his nails... longerthan before?He shook his head, trying to shake away the agonising feelings bombardinghim and took a closer look. It was true. His fingernails, previouslyragged and unclean from his many a late nights' scribbling in his variousjournals, were now well-manicured almond shapes. The moonlight shined offtheir surface, as if bearing a coat of clear polish. And that wasn't all.His hands had never exactly been hard or calloused those of a workman,his. More

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