Fragile Truths by D. H. Sidebottom, R. M. James Page B
Authors: D. H. Sidebottom, R. M. James
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me.
The pain was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before. My skin was on fire as he lavished another whip across my already ravaged back.
“Please…” I sobbed out between yelps and bawls, my tears fluid and thick as they rained down my face as fast and heavy as Yard’s thrashes on me.
I was screaming and crying uncontrollably, trying to focus my brain on nothing as each strike took my breath and devastated my body with agony. Tate was shouting and screaming with each blow as I sagged limply against the structure holding me up and desperately tried to block everything out. My body was conflicting against the fatigue and the pain, its frenzied need to shut off trying to win but the agony overruling anything other than alertness and intense pain.
My fingernails were embedded in my palm and my jaw was clenched tightly, cracking my teeth under the pressure but his relentless punishment went on and on until exhaustion won and I passed out.
Tate
The sobs that racked her body, even in her unconsciousness lasted for hours and I watched each little rise and fall of her chest, feeling her agony as my own.
I screamed out again, more in frustration and devastation than anything else. The bastard had ripped her to shreds, her beautiful soft skin now hung loosely off her back as I watched the trickle of her sweet blood seep onto the white sheet covering the mattress underneath her.
They’d thrown her limp body back on the bed, tied her cuffs back on and fucked off, Yard laughing loudly as his hard dick strained against the crotch of his jeans.
Sick fuck!
Why the hell had I gone running into her apartment? If I had tempered my hot-headedness and held back, I could have been working on a plan to get her out by now.
Her tortured breaths were crippling me and I pulled in vain at the long nails holding me upright. I hissed at the searing pain but yanked harder, determination and fury giving me much needed strength to free myself. I grit my teeth, biting the neckline of my t-shirt as I gave an almighty pull and freed my right hand, a choked cry rumbling from the back of my throat.
Blood poured from the gaping hole as I pulled the nail out and focused on removing the replica from my other hand. I fell awkwardly to the ground, my feet still attached to the fucking cross as my hand came free and I cursed as I head-butted the floor.
I ripped my shirt from my back and tore at it with my teeth, pulling off long strips, creating make-shift bandages to wrap around my palms. Nausea at the pain hung heavy in my gut but I drove on, glimpsing at Frankie to give me all the vigour I needed as I pulled at the ropes binding my feet.
Blood rushed to my head, making the room swim and tilt so I stayed low and crawled across the floor to the bed, pushing off the edge of the mattress to pull myself up.
Her wounds were raw and angry and I stifled the need to scream again in anger, the last thing I needed right then was someone discovering my Houdini act.
My fingers hovered over her. I just wanted to scoop her fragile body up and hold her, take each part of her and soothe it, make everything better and easier. She was too delicate for this shit; she would never survive the Knight’s wrath.
She sobbed again, the sound choked and full of so much pain. “Ahh shit, Capella,” I whispered as I brushed the hair from her face gently. She frowned and murmured something illegible, her cheek squashed against the flat of the mattress as her back remained open and exposed to the stale air in the room.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I forced myself upright; my legs numb from being crucified for way too long and dragged my body into the bathroom.
Jesus Christ! I stared wide eyed around the room, knowing exactly why this place had such a sanitary bathroom but I pushed that sickening thought away and rummaged through the cupboards to find a container to stow some water. Finding nothing suitable, I took apart the small
The pain was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before. My skin was on fire as he lavished another whip across my already ravaged back.
“Please…” I sobbed out between yelps and bawls, my tears fluid and thick as they rained down my face as fast and heavy as Yard’s thrashes on me.
I was screaming and crying uncontrollably, trying to focus my brain on nothing as each strike took my breath and devastated my body with agony. Tate was shouting and screaming with each blow as I sagged limply against the structure holding me up and desperately tried to block everything out. My body was conflicting against the fatigue and the pain, its frenzied need to shut off trying to win but the agony overruling anything other than alertness and intense pain.
My fingernails were embedded in my palm and my jaw was clenched tightly, cracking my teeth under the pressure but his relentless punishment went on and on until exhaustion won and I passed out.
Tate
The sobs that racked her body, even in her unconsciousness lasted for hours and I watched each little rise and fall of her chest, feeling her agony as my own.
I screamed out again, more in frustration and devastation than anything else. The bastard had ripped her to shreds, her beautiful soft skin now hung loosely off her back as I watched the trickle of her sweet blood seep onto the white sheet covering the mattress underneath her.
They’d thrown her limp body back on the bed, tied her cuffs back on and fucked off, Yard laughing loudly as his hard dick strained against the crotch of his jeans.
Sick fuck!
Why the hell had I gone running into her apartment? If I had tempered my hot-headedness and held back, I could have been working on a plan to get her out by now.
Her tortured breaths were crippling me and I pulled in vain at the long nails holding me upright. I hissed at the searing pain but yanked harder, determination and fury giving me much needed strength to free myself. I grit my teeth, biting the neckline of my t-shirt as I gave an almighty pull and freed my right hand, a choked cry rumbling from the back of my throat.
Blood poured from the gaping hole as I pulled the nail out and focused on removing the replica from my other hand. I fell awkwardly to the ground, my feet still attached to the fucking cross as my hand came free and I cursed as I head-butted the floor.
I ripped my shirt from my back and tore at it with my teeth, pulling off long strips, creating make-shift bandages to wrap around my palms. Nausea at the pain hung heavy in my gut but I drove on, glimpsing at Frankie to give me all the vigour I needed as I pulled at the ropes binding my feet.
Blood rushed to my head, making the room swim and tilt so I stayed low and crawled across the floor to the bed, pushing off the edge of the mattress to pull myself up.
Her wounds were raw and angry and I stifled the need to scream again in anger, the last thing I needed right then was someone discovering my Houdini act.
My fingers hovered over her. I just wanted to scoop her fragile body up and hold her, take each part of her and soothe it, make everything better and easier. She was too delicate for this shit; she would never survive the Knight’s wrath.
She sobbed again, the sound choked and full of so much pain. “Ahh shit, Capella,” I whispered as I brushed the hair from her face gently. She frowned and murmured something illegible, her cheek squashed against the flat of the mattress as her back remained open and exposed to the stale air in the room.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I forced myself upright; my legs numb from being crucified for way too long and dragged my body into the bathroom.
Jesus Christ! I stared wide eyed around the room, knowing exactly why this place had such a sanitary bathroom but I pushed that sickening thought away and rummaged through the cupboards to find a container to stow some water. Finding nothing suitable, I took apart the small
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