Please let me go… I waited, too spent physically or mentally to even tense when I felt her get closer, but instead of reaching for my head I felt her stretch her arms up to where the wrist cuffs were. There must have been release latches somewhere higher up than the cuffs, because when she released the first one, I screamed when all my weight was suddenly on my right wrist. Her arm was under one of my armpits though, half holding me up as she undid the second on, and I didnt even have the strength to feel ashamed when I sagged back against her at the release of the second. If anything, the care and delicacy in which she helped lower me to my knees on the concrete was more disconcerting that any lashing she could have given me then. She moved away as I knelt there on the ground, trying not to cry out at the renewed agony in my wrists. The cuffs were still around them, and I held my hands out in front of me half in the expectation of being let go and half to let the blood flow back. Then dripping and flowing over her rounded stomach, over her pubic curls of passion, draining away all evidence of her nocturnal enjoyment. Her legs quivered as her dexterous digits completed the ravenous assuagement of her final need. She sank to the porcelain floor moaning, laughing, and weeping in her culmination.At last, she arose and finished her normal showering. It ended with a soothing, delightful shampoo of her treasured ginger locks, twisting and turning around her high brows while gliding between her long fingers before drooping damply and caressing her neck. Using a large, fluffy bath towel she dried her ivory skinned body. She took her time making sure the locks of hair were fully dried. She used her special brush to shape it thoroughly into its naturally flowing waves. With the end of this morning's ultimate cleansing, she stepped out of the bathroom. She glanced over at the figure lying across the crumpled bedclothes. Silent and dormant at the moment. Still and.
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