Chapter 45 `Stepping Up My Position In The Fanny's

“My husband,” I called Brian and he dragged a laugh, as sheepishly as he fondled with his hands and then scowled his face with a conviction in me that he regretted smiling in the first place. He was still bound with the fetters and a close stare at it revealed they were cutting into his skin. At this time his wrist and ankles were bleeding. It was then I knew the hurt behind those sheepish smiles on his face. That must be hurting him so much now and I wondered how often he had begged for his bleeding wrist to be attended to.