free," he said. "Hold still for a moment."
"Stop! Stop! Stop!"
She continued to howl and struggle. Seth hauled on a leather strap, dragging her weight closer toward him enough to free the last hook from its anchoring. The harness fell from her, leather pooling around her feet. She wrenched open the door and raced down the hall.
* * * *
"Ogod, ogod, ogod..." she sobbed.
Lunging into the bathroom, she slapped on the light and wrenched open a drawer she hadn't touched in over a year. Grabbing a handful of bandages, dressing, and support wraps, she tossed them onto the counter.
"Ogod, ogod, ogod."
Cranking on the water, she grabbed a washcloth and immersed it. The water rushed; the mirror reflected...stitches, all over her boobs, holding her skin together, thin strips of thread holding sliced flesh against sliced flesh; stitches, tiny nips of thread that ringed her nipples; her nipples, cut from her body and stitched to her flesh; tiny little bits of thread holding her severed nipples to her body. Pain and bruising...pain and bruising...
"Ogod, ogod, ogod."
Hands shaking, tears streaming down her face, Abby examined her breasts, lifting and shifting them, back and forth and back and forth...where was she bleeding? The stitches, where were they breaking? Where am I coming undone?
She searched and searched and searched until exhaustion caught her. Finally, reality returned.
No stitches marked her skin.
There was also no Seth.
"Seth? Seth, where are you?"
On the other side of the house, the front door closed. You may opt out by telling me to stop, he'd told her. Legally, I'll obey, but will do so on the understanding this will permanently end your training.
Seth had gone. He was forever gone!
Abby collapsed beside the toilet and vomited.
Chapter 13
She heaved and spat and sobbed. Everything was over. Seth was gone. What had she done?
Behind her, the running water stopped. A shadow covered her and something cold was placed on the back of her neck. "Easy, li'l one," said a familiar, brogue-touched voice.
She lifted her head, dislodging the cold pack. "Master?"
Unfortunately, her tummy wasn't finished and she was forced to resume the unpleasant business for a while longer. The cold pack was returned to the back of her neck.
"I'm sorry," she managed when she could again speak. Her voice hitched as her body struggled and clenched. "I'm sorry...for saying...stop. I didn't...mean it."
Seth seated himself beside her on the edge of the bathtub. He plucked the damp washcloth from the floor before offering her a glass of water. "Here. Swish it in your mouth and spit. Don't swallow."
Abby obeyed, then resumed her apologies, while Seth reached over and flushed the fouled toilet. He snapped open the washcloth and used it to wipe away the sweat and tears from her face.
"Just relax," he said.
"But, Master, I want to tell you--"
"Enough." Tugging her between his knees, he yanked a towel from its holder and wrapped her in its warmth. "Lay your head on my leg and relax."
Sitting as directed, she focused on steadying her breathing. Her tense muscles began to ease and her tummy stopped its clenching. She'd started shaking sometime during this event and gratefully snuggled into Seth's warmth.
"Master?"
"Aye?"
"Is this sub drop?"
"Shock."
"Shock? Why am I in shock?"
"We'll talk about that in a bit."
They remained quiet, Abby huddling into the towel and Seth's warmth. "I wasn't aware my bathroom was so cold."
"The heat lamp is on."
She looked up to find it was true. It was getting a bit toasty in here, come to think of it. Sparkles of sweat dotted Seth's brow. He wasn't comfortable, yet he'd stayed.
After all of that, he'd stayed.
"Why are you here?"
Seth cocked a brow at her. "Should I leave?"
"No! That isn't what I meant. I only meant that--"
He sighed. "Abby, there's a difference between calling stop because you no longer wish to submit and forcing a stop due to a panic attack."
"But I don't have panic
"Stop! Stop! Stop!"
She continued to howl and struggle. Seth hauled on a leather strap, dragging her weight closer toward him enough to free the last hook from its anchoring. The harness fell from her, leather pooling around her feet. She wrenched open the door and raced down the hall.
* * * *
"Ogod, ogod, ogod..." she sobbed.
Lunging into the bathroom, she slapped on the light and wrenched open a drawer she hadn't touched in over a year. Grabbing a handful of bandages, dressing, and support wraps, she tossed them onto the counter.
"Ogod, ogod, ogod."
Cranking on the water, she grabbed a washcloth and immersed it. The water rushed; the mirror reflected...stitches, all over her boobs, holding her skin together, thin strips of thread holding sliced flesh against sliced flesh; stitches, tiny nips of thread that ringed her nipples; her nipples, cut from her body and stitched to her flesh; tiny little bits of thread holding her severed nipples to her body. Pain and bruising...pain and bruising...
"Ogod, ogod, ogod."
Hands shaking, tears streaming down her face, Abby examined her breasts, lifting and shifting them, back and forth and back and forth...where was she bleeding? The stitches, where were they breaking? Where am I coming undone?
She searched and searched and searched until exhaustion caught her. Finally, reality returned.
No stitches marked her skin.
There was also no Seth.
"Seth? Seth, where are you?"
On the other side of the house, the front door closed. You may opt out by telling me to stop, he'd told her. Legally, I'll obey, but will do so on the understanding this will permanently end your training.
Seth had gone. He was forever gone!
Abby collapsed beside the toilet and vomited.
Chapter 13
She heaved and spat and sobbed. Everything was over. Seth was gone. What had she done?
Behind her, the running water stopped. A shadow covered her and something cold was placed on the back of her neck. "Easy, li'l one," said a familiar, brogue-touched voice.
She lifted her head, dislodging the cold pack. "Master?"
Unfortunately, her tummy wasn't finished and she was forced to resume the unpleasant business for a while longer. The cold pack was returned to the back of her neck.
"I'm sorry," she managed when she could again speak. Her voice hitched as her body struggled and clenched. "I'm sorry...for saying...stop. I didn't...mean it."
Seth seated himself beside her on the edge of the bathtub. He plucked the damp washcloth from the floor before offering her a glass of water. "Here. Swish it in your mouth and spit. Don't swallow."
Abby obeyed, then resumed her apologies, while Seth reached over and flushed the fouled toilet. He snapped open the washcloth and used it to wipe away the sweat and tears from her face.
"Just relax," he said.
"But, Master, I want to tell you--"
"Enough." Tugging her between his knees, he yanked a towel from its holder and wrapped her in its warmth. "Lay your head on my leg and relax."
Sitting as directed, she focused on steadying her breathing. Her tense muscles began to ease and her tummy stopped its clenching. She'd started shaking sometime during this event and gratefully snuggled into Seth's warmth.
"Master?"
"Aye?"
"Is this sub drop?"
"Shock."
"Shock? Why am I in shock?"
"We'll talk about that in a bit."
They remained quiet, Abby huddling into the towel and Seth's warmth. "I wasn't aware my bathroom was so cold."
"The heat lamp is on."
She looked up to find it was true. It was getting a bit toasty in here, come to think of it. Sparkles of sweat dotted Seth's brow. He wasn't comfortable, yet he'd stayed.
After all of that, he'd stayed.
"Why are you here?"
Seth cocked a brow at her. "Should I leave?"
"No! That isn't what I meant. I only meant that--"
He sighed. "Abby, there's a difference between calling stop because you no longer wish to submit and forcing a stop due to a panic attack."
"But I don't have panic
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