It was badly washed the last time it was used. The waterwas cold and was picking at my hands that I wiped hastily in my apron.Soon I was about to lear... that the apron was going to become one of mymost useful 'tools' in my new position as a cleaner/maid. Also it wasgoing to become the symbol of my new station in life.I started sweeping first and then, as any 'femme de menage' I went downto my knees and I started washing the floor with the mop, pushing thebucket forwards as I was moving. My knees. Those she could endure. Those she had endured.Those she would now relish. No, Master was torturing her in a much worse way. He wasignoring her.Master had not touched her in over three weeks. Not only had he not used her sexually, he hadnot physically touched her in any way. Neither had he spoken to her. He listened, or moreaccurately, he ignored her in total silence as she yelled, cried, begged forgiveness or justdissolved totally into wordless, choking sobs. He didn't even tell her to. More

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