Valka
I despised it all in the first few days of his wicked conditioning. I cried a lot like a child and wanted nothing more than to smash the glass. I hadn't realized how bad it was until then, how I had convinced myself that I was no longer beautiful.
After a few weeks, I got used to my reflection. I didn't hate it any less, but it got 'bearable'.
He did things to my lactating breasts that made me cry and beg and appreciate the experience, because that sensitivity was something unusual and he was taking full advantage of every bit of it.
He would tease my nipples until they spurted milk. And then he'd finger it back into me and make me sing, "I am enough, I am worth loving, I am worth staying for, I am worth living for. I am beautiful. I am needed. I am perfect. I have nothing to be ashamed of. This body gave life and I am proud of it."
Other times, the things he made me say and do were rather filthy.
