Katie woke to the pleasant aroma of pancakes and coffee. She thought for a moment that she was back home in the United States, tucked into her childhood bed, smelling a home cooked breakfast prepared by mom. Then she stretched and the soft blanket slid along bare skin, touching the wounds Roman had inflicted the night before. Katie flinched and curled into herself as memories of the night before flooded through her. The chill darkness of the cellar he had her strung up in, the fiery heat of his angry gaze licking over her exposed flesh and the painful strike of the whip biting into her while he forced her to count out her own punishment. The deep ache between her legs reminded her that Roman's brand of torture was both erotic and terrifying.
"Hola, miss," said a quiet but cheerful feminine voice behind her. The woman spoke in soft Spanish as she approached the bed, "If you are ready to get up I have some breakfast here for you and then we can see to your wounds."