Chapter Fifteen
The sofa was more decorative than the trestle in Sub-Level B had been, but it served the same purpose. Cookie’s belly rested on the cold leather of the padded head rest. The sofa was more like a chaise. Her arms were drawn down at full stretch and her wrist cuffs were tied to the curved legs, forcing her head low and her ass high. A spreader bar kept her legs apart and prevented her from kicking. At this point in her training, bondage was probably an unnecessary affectation. She would have held this pose if she had been commanded to, even if it meant delivering herself to the whip. She had learned the consequences of disobedience.
Her brand had healed. She had even mustered the nerve to examine the scar and had become accustomed to the barbaric decoration, rationalizing t
