“Were you a virgin?”

“N-no, Master. You know I wasn’t.”

She could barely push the words out. In the space of five minutes, he’d destroyed her. He’d never broken a woman’s trust like this, not ever. His play things had all gone home happy with secret smiles on their faces, their bodies relaxed and loose and confident. But those women had consented, not just with words—with their whole being.

It wasn’t a verbal transaction. It was bodies and trust and communion. He’d known where Faith was mentally, and yet… he hadn’t stopped.

He’d meant to protect her. Was there no leash that would hold him back?

Leo moved slowly closer as she drew back.

“Faith?”

“Y-yes, Master?”

What was he going to say? I’m sorry? For what? How did one apologize for this? Words couldn’t fix the brokenness. They weren’t going to laugh over this later.

The surgeon side of him rose to the surface, intent on fixing her. Still not a person in his head, but at least something he wanted to heal rather than harm. How could such two disparate instincts reside in one soul without ripping it apart?

He knelt behind her and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight him; she went limp like a rag doll, as if her spirit had vacated her body.

This was worse than if he’d taken a bullwhip to her unmarred back and sliced her open. He held her forever, stroking her hair, shocked by how she clung to him in spite of what had happened. Against his better judgment, he found himself kissing her, and she responded to his lips on hers, kissing him back. He should give her privacy, but he knew if he left her, she’d fall down a deep hole she couldn’t climb out of. He wanted to paper over the last few minutes with tenderness. Fix it. Fix it. Fix it.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he murmured against her mouth.

He left to retrieve the medical bag from the den. When he returned, she’d stopped crying, but she still huddled in a ball, her eyes vacant and staring.

“Faith, are you with me?”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, then dug through his bag for a flashlight and a speculum. Playing doctor was a game one of his subs had been into, and he’d happily collected all the necessary tools to be a convincing gynecologist. It came in handy now as he lubricated the piece of metal and carefully inserted it and flicked on the flashlight. The physical damage was minor. But the physical damage wasn’t the problem here, and they both knew it.

* * *

The eerie music played on as they lay in bed. Some of the songs she recognized, some she didn’t. There couldn’t be more than an hour on the record. Hadn’t they been down here months? Years? But it must have been less than an hour. Was time even real? The curtain had been pulled back to reveal the void where every second was eternity, and there was no way back out again to where time marched on like obedient linear soldiers.