Snippet

One morning last weekend Master called me over to stand beside his seat at the kitchen table, as he often does. 

He parted my robe and lifted my shirt, which is also not unheard of.

Then he took his hot mug of tea and pressed it up against my stomach.  My stomach is my weak spot.  It is like a great big ball of tenderness and I always want to protect it from being touched.   Or especially from being hurt.

I shrieked, but didn't jump away because his other arm was around me, holding me still.

He laughed and asked how I was going to stand being branded if I couldn't even stand a little warm tea.  He even put the mug against his cheek afterward to show that it wasn't burning hot.   I think his stubble insulated him, though, since it felt plenty burning to me.

I said I guessed I would take branding with a lot of screaming.  And he'd have to tied me down first.