Yeah, of course

"Y-yeah. Totally clear. Be polite."

CRACK! The snap of a leather bullwhip cracks nearby and you scream out. Startled, panicking, you find it almost impossible to catch your breath.

"The proper reply is 'yes sir.' The slut must understand it's place. It has no name, no home, and no purpose as of yet."

Surely he can't be talking about you. What could he possibly mean by all of this? Are you the slut? That's fucking rude! Still you decide to keep appeasing him and hope for a chance to escape.

"Yes Sir. I understand AH!"

Another crack and this time it connects with your skin. Just on the underside of your ass cheek, a sharp sting unlike anything you've ever felt before. Holy shit!

"The slut does not say 'I', 'me', or refer to itself as anything but an object. A properly trained slut must be broken of such horrid habits."