Chapter Twelve
Retreat
I heard Becca’s fingersnap and woke naked on a padded bench, my feet on a cold hard concrete floor with just a thin blanket over me. Socks and a c**k cage were my only clothing. It was late morning in Becca’s garage. My ankles and wrists were cuffed together under the bench. I wasn’t wearing a ball gag this time, thank goodness. I tasted bacon and eggs in my mouth.
I considered. I probably cooked the bacon and eggs myself. Becca and I probably ate them together. I probably cleaned her latex outfits, plus the tray underneath the bench that had caught my urine yesterday.
I remembered none of it. I looked at her, standing over me, looking fabulous in yoga pants and her “I have the p***y so I make the rules” t-shirt. Her facial blemishes were fading. She smirked.
“M
