Page 87 of Good Girl

He grunts again. “Need a few more minutes.”

Inhaling, I try to thrust the daddy in me down a little. Her shoulders must be screaming by now and probably filled with pins and needles.

Xavier heads over to his bag, which we all lovingly refer to as his “torture kit” and pulls out another, much bulkier, case that I’ve only seen a few times. He places the hard plastic briefcase-style case next to the bowl and unclips the latches before opening it to reveal his camera.

He fiddles with it for several moments before turning and facing Emery. The lines on her are still a fiery red, however the rest of the skin is also pink. The few streaks of blood along her back have mixed with sweat, the watery color meshing with the few purple stripes that remain from my scene with her yesterday.

I trace my eyes down her back, over her ass, to the trickles of cum that slide down her thighs. There is the faintest hint of smeared, dried blood beneath the semen.

Xavier gets up close and personal, taking photos from every angle and distance. By the time he is done, he has taken several dozen images, and I have a feeling that the one with her inscribed ass check, cum trickling out of her entrance, and blood on her thighs is going to make it into a printed piece that hangs in his house.

My cock twitches at the thought. I may need to put in an order for one of those, myself.

When he lowers his camera, I straighten. “Now?”

He grunts and nods.

As he puts the camera down, I immediately start work on the cuff around her thigh. I support the limb and unhook the chain from the upper support and slowly lower her leg to the ground, then make quick work of getting the Velcro undone. Her wrists are red, especially around the darker marks that were clearly a spot where a knot had sat during Darcy’s scene.

I frown at the sight. Those will all need to be checked.

With that decision made, I wrap my arms around her and gently lift.

Emery lets out a tortured noise, and I imagine that the sudden reduction in stress on her joints is simultaneously painful and wonderful.

Xavier joins me and works on all the other restraints. Once we have her free, he bends and scoops her up into his arms, bridal style, and carries her over to the padded medical table. It’s supposed to be used for scenes, but we chose it for the first phase of Emery’s aftercare.

I help him turn her so that she is lying face down, head supported by a pillow and turned to the side. When we have her settled, we both start the process of rubbing feeling back into her arms.

We work each significant portion of the limb. My concern for her discomfort shoots up when I feel how cold her fingers are, but after only a few minutes of massage and rubbing, they begin to warm under my ministrations.

Every now and then, she twitches or makes a noise that sounds just the slightest bit pained, which is both good and bad. Good, because it means normal sensation is returning. Bad, because all my instincts are screaming to make the pain go away for her.

After I have worked her shoulder and lowered her arm back down to the table, I look to Xavier to see if he still requires help or if I should go prep the shower.

We want to get her under warm water to rinse her clean so that Xavier can apply all the necessary precautions to her cuts. It would ruin him if she experienced any issues, long-lasting or otherwise.

For as long as I have known him, he has been an apt student in his kink, never once thinking himself too knowledgeable to learn from another master. In the time that we have been friends, I’ve seen him take lessons from paramedic submissives and receive formal lessons on piercings and tattoos, among other things.

Xavier gives me the nod to proceed, and I leave the two alone as he starts to massage her hips and outer thighs. I’m only gone long enough to get the water running and the shower steamy, but when I return, Xavier has removed the blindfold and Emery’s eyes are open, if unseeing.

Her eyes are red and her cheeks are tear stained.

I brush hair away from her cheek, but all she does is blink.

Unable to help myself, I lean down and press a kiss to her temple as my excitement builds. I still can’t get over how deep she falls into subspace.

It’s fucking beautiful.

Straightening, I turn and face Xavier. “Are you carrying her, or am I?”

He answers non-verbally by gently rolling her over and picking her up again.

I watch as he walks away with her, my throat tight with hope and worry. With the four of us ready to offer her a much longer-term extension, all that is left to do is convince her to sign on the dotted line.

Hopefully, it is as simple as that.

Chapter 41

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