The Debt

57) Victim Blaming

I laid on the bed on my back, my poor nipples too sensitive to even think about laying on my stomach. Meanwhile, my head is resting in Mistress' lap while I cry.

She ran her hands through my hair. "You took your punishment very well, Dear."

I sniffled, her words honestly going in one ear and out the other. "I'm sorry," I cried, not about taking the punishment well, obviously, but about why I earned it in the first place.

I can't stop thinking about how stupid I was. The events of last night just keep playing over and over and over and over and over and —

"Stop apologizing," she ordered succinctly, snapping me out of the hole I was spiraling down. "You're forgiven, and the point of a punishment is to help you forgive yourself, so do that."

A pout formed on my face as I thought about what she said.

  If I had just —

  "Forgive yourself," I remembered her words.

. . . How can I forgive myself when I risked my life and ended other people's for a night out?

  "Forgive yourself."

  How? When I fucked with your career to make friends.

  "Forgive yourself."

  Even though if I had just listened to you none of this would have happened?

  "Forgive yourself."

  . . . Just listened to you.

I suppose that's the soundest lesson to take away from this.

Listen.

  "Forgive yourself."

I groaned loudly. "My everything hurts."

  Mostly my heart and head.

At the sound of my complaining, she ran her hand down my body from her spot at my head to cup my Sensitive — with a capital S — breast.

I immediately shied away, terrified of more overstimulation, but she shushed me and wrangler me back until she was kneading my chest.

I groaned at the way my irritated skin burned at the contact. Her touch is definitely far more forgiving than the rope, but it's still far from welcome.

Though, the stinging eventually faded as Mistress gently caressed the sore area until the ache was dull and manageable. She did the same thing to the next breast when she was done. I have to admit, her touch feels better on the rope burn than the cold, hard air.

By the few minutes mark, I felt close to being lulled to sleep. After only a few more seconds of her gentle massaging, I gave in to the pull that the soothing pattern created and fell asleep.

~~~~

By the time I woke up, the sun was blaring obnoxiously through the curtains.

The thing that processed immediately after the burning in my eyes, was the burning on my skin.

I groaned and screwed my eyes shut.

Shortly after that, I registered the comforting weight of Mistress' arm around my waist along with her warmth against my back.

The knowledge chased my worries about Mistress hating me and how much of an idiot I am from my mind for the time being but did little to sooth the sting that's still very prevalent all over my body.