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... otic fantasy—a maid stripping for me. Instead it was horror. Bruises mottled her stomach, clear signs of punches. I placed a hand on her shoulder, turned her gently, and saw the whip marks across her back. Ugly, but none looked deep enough to scar permanently. Still, the sight twisted my gut.
"Minne... why did you let him?"
"I... M-Master... I had no choice," she choked, tears spilling.
I bit my lip as she sobbed, shoulders shaking. I pulled her into a hug. She stiffened, ...
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