• I can't be sure how long I've been here; I've been sleeping a lot since I was put here..
    I have a small nub of a candle to light my way as I write. As I write these words, the flame flickers and dims a bit.I haven't much time.
    It's cold. In the dim light I can see the white clouds of breath from my mouth and nose.
    I can't say when I'll be let out. I feel ashamed and worthless, after what I've done.
    I'd misbehaved again. I can't help myself. I crave attention, even the negative kind, and I receive it when I misbehave.
    After my bad behavior, I'd been punished, punished in the usual way. The pain almost feels good, knowing from where it comes. But that day, She'd been rougher than usual. She was frustrated, not just with me, but with other things as well. It was nice to know that I was the one she took her frustration out upon. But then, as a reflex, I'd done the thing bad enough to land me here.
    Looking back on it, I am so ashamed that my eyes fill with tears. It is difficult to even write it here.
    I had struck Her.
    She'd looked stunned, then very, very angry.
    She'd slapped me, harder than I thought possible. The blow sent me to my knees. Then She'd kicked me. It felt like my chest exploded.
    Then perhaps the worst punishment of all, She'd locked me up here, away from Her.
    Since then, I've been sleeping quite a bit. My body aches, especially where I've been kicked. I feel like crying and vomiting at the same time.

    I must have fallen asleep again after writing all of that. I'm still in the dark room, but She brought me a new candle and some food.
    It's now, with my new candle, that I can see how small the room is. I must be in a closet.
    There's a new blanket in the corner. I pulled it over myself and sniffed it. The blanket smells like Her. I cling to it as I write.
    I sit with my knees drawn up to my chest. It hurts, but the position is comforting.
    --- From Journal


    When I wake the next time, the door is open. My eyes widen in delight and I bound out of my prison.
    I call out to Her, but there is no response.
    I search our chambers, where I've lived most of my life since I was bought, but She is not here. My heart sinks and I go to my mat. She bought this mat for me to sleep on. It's dark blue. She even let me pick what color I wanted.
    When She returns, I'll beg her, implore her, to forgive me. I just hope She will.

    "Boy!" She says, and I smile, going to Her.
    I bend over and kiss Her hand once, twice, three times.
    She pulls Her hand away as I go to kiss it a fourth time.
    "I'm so, so sorry, Mistress." I say, taking Her other hand and kissing it. "Please forgive me..."
    She just looks at me and I know I am not yet forgiven.
    I frown and go back to my mat.
    She removes her coat and hangs it on the hook as I stare in Her direction, hoping to look pitiful enough to warrant her sympathy.
    After a while, when She has gotten settled, She walks over to me.
    I quickly put my head down in shame and I make my body as small as possible, bringing my knees to my aching chest again, preparing to be struck or chastised.
    She puts Her hands on my shoulders and I look up. Her face is hard and unforgiving, but comforting all the same..
    "You are never to hit me." She says, her voice low and angry.
    "Yes, Mistress," I say, looking down. "I'm sorry."
    She nods and embraces me. I revel in the attention, but wince as Her chest touches my own. A small yelp escapes my lips in pain.
    "What's this?" She says, looking worried. "That hurts?"
    I nod and let Her remove my shirt. A purple bruise has appeared where her foot connected with my chest.
    She reaches out and touches the bruise gently. I jump back and cry out.
    "Well," She says. "That's not good."
    She lays me on her bed: it's more comfortable than I could have imagined. She gently binds my chest, which is quite painful, but it has to be done. Mistress said so. She says my ribs are broken and that this will help heal them.
    When She is finished, She lets me stay in Her bed while she bathes. She tells me I need to rest, but it seems impossible.
    I am used to undressing and dressing Her at bathtime, but She said She would manage without me. I think She is punishing me again, and I can't sleep.
    So I wait.

    She comes back sometime later, trying to close the zipper on the back of Her dress.
    "I'll do it!" I say, louder than I mean to.
    She nods and sits on the bed, letting me zip up the back of the striped garment.
    "Are you sore?" She asks, touching my bandaged chest.
    I shake my head, but when She pushes her fingers into the bruise, I wince.
    "Don't lie so I won't worry." She says.
    "Sorry, Mistress..." I say.
    "You've been misbehaving quite a lot lately, boy, see to it that it stops. Now." She says.
    "Yes, Ma'am" I say, looking down.
    She nods and moves closer to me on the bed. She takes a book from under her pillow and starts to read it.
    I gingerly cuddle up beside her, resting my head on her shoulder.
    She smiles and I follow suit. Before too long, I fall asleep slumped against her.