Time crawls, and when the room grows dark, I start to squirm. I need the restroom, but I don’t want to call for Demitri.

Every couple of minutes, I try to shift my lower body to ease the pressure on my bladder. When there’s no sign of Demitri, and it’s clear he has zero intention of untying me tonight, worry has me yanking against the belt.

As my desperation grows, I yank harder, ignoring the bite of the leather against my skin.

Crap.

I let out a panicked whimper and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything else but my aching bladder. It feels like it’s going to burst.

With every passing minute, the pressure in my abdomen builds.

Giving up, I yell, “Demitri! I need the restroom!”

I watch the door with hopeful eyes, and when there’s no sign of him, I call for him again.

It feels like an hour passes with my yells going unanswered. A drop escapes, and I let out a panicked squeak.

NoNoNoNoNo.

Pinching my eyes shut, debilitating humiliation creeps over me, and then I lose the battle. The luke warmth spreading beneath me crushes me, and a degraded sob escapes.

Turning my face into the crook of my arm, I try to hide from myself, unable to deal with what just happened.

I lose track of time, not moving a single muscle as the wet spot beneath me grows colder and colder.

Suddenly the door to the room opens, and I instantly tense up while shame crawls through every ounce of my being.

When the light is turned on, I press my face harder against my arm, keeping my eyes tightly shut.

A moment later, Demitri unties my hands, and the second I’m free, I dart off the bed and, keeping my eyes on the floor, I run into the bathroom. I slam the door shut, and with a trembling body, I dart into the shower, clothes and all.

I refuse to think of what happened.

At least, I try not to.

Opening the faucets, I strip out of my clothes while the cold water rains down on me. I kick the soaked fabric to the corner of the shower, and shivering, I reach for the body wash.

When the water starts to grow warm, a humiliated sob flutters up my throat, but I swallow hard to keep it from escaping.

I keep washing, trying to remove the most degrading thing that’s ever happened to me from my body.

By the time my skin is red and tender, steam fills every inch of the bathroom. I turn off the faucets, and grabbing a towel, I wrap it around me and then sit down on the closed toilet.

Tears sting my eyes, and unable to keep them back any longer, they slowly begin to fall.

The only clothes I had, are lying in a soaked heap in the shower.

I wet the bed like a toddler.

I’ve been ripped away from the safety of my apartment and dropped into a nightmare.