She sighed and then quickly washed her short hair. She hated the shorn locks almost as much as she hated the brand on her shoulder, gifts from her first master. He'd shaved her head because she tried to fight what he told her to do. Maybe now, with Chal, she would feel safe enough to let it grow.

That is if he didn't ship her packing as he had with the woman who had enjoyed this shower before her.

Finishing her shower, she dried off and used the brush she found in one of the many drawers in the bathroom. She sighed and pulled Chal's shirt back on. Then she...