“Right, so you know she’s your room mate then.” Tristan replies and motioned up ahead.  “It’s fourth door on  the left.”<br/><br/>Soon he wanted to discover her. Who she thought she was and little by little peel those protective layers to see who she was at her soul.<br/><br/>The place he worked best. The place that was sustainable.  The clothes would change. The hair color, style but the thrill of the first nipple ring. The first orgasm as the whip painted the thin white lines that rose into deep red welts. Those would sustain.<br/><br/>Everything else was the cloak that a naked slave wore as she lay chained in her master’s collar and at his feet. He would bring her soul to the collar and have her begging to kiss it.<br/><br/>He grinned at her question. It’s good that she was asking. “What subjects do you hate most?”<br/>