By DogcatcherVA
The slave pushed against my hand for all his worth. He liked his attention, you could tell, but after his ordeal who knows when the last time he was touched as gently. I continued to rub his matted hair as I watched him start to go limp. The silence of the dungeon was deafening, my breath whistled through my nose, and you could hear a faint sigh come from the captive.
I pulled back from him and stopped rubbing his head. You could see his lip start to quiver. Not knowing where he had been then before I retrieved him, I decided it was time to get to know the story behind my chained prize. I walked to the sink in the rear of the dungeon space and grabbed a wet rag.