“It’s a defense mechanism,” he said. “Like… an armor.”
She slowly leaned closer, head angling. “Why’s it… is it… burnt?”
Burnt. He wanted to laugh at the accurate description. “It’s a skin graft. Made of a titanium polymer. It engages when there’s a threat.”
She snapped a confused look at him. “A threat?”
“Well, Iambound in this noxious mystery weave.”
She regarded the net with resurrected disgust. “Itisdreadful,” she agreed, slowly returning her attention to his midsection. “Why would you… have a need for such a thing?There?” the war-time nurse in her wondered.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Whoever put it there apparently thought I needed it.”
She stared at him, his answer bringing confounding lines to her face. “How could you not know such a thing?”
He stared back at her, then turned his gaze to the ceiling, slowly filling his lungs with a breath. “Maybe my seed is toxic, and they wanted to protect the world.”
Silence stretched, pulling at his full bladder and patience.
“Where is your family? Do you have siblings? A wife? Or children?”
“Fuckme,” he muttered. “Which answer will allow me the privilege of taking apiss, Sister Beatrice?”
She sputtered out nonsensical sounds before blurting, “Well, what do I do, your… member is on lockdown!”
“I canpiss,” he assured. “The armor only protects against external threats, although I have no clue how it will react if my bladder is threatening to burst.”
“Fine!” She grabbed his dick and held it in the mason jar, head turning sharply away. “Go on and do your business, soldier.”
His bladder released before she finished her sentence bringing relief and a painful euphoric groan.
“I am very sorry,” she whispered at hearing it. “For taking so long and for… your situation.”
His relief continued filling the jar in the silence.
“I’ve been praying for you—we all have been,” she hurried. “We know to be cautious in judging because you can never know what another has been through or suffered. All of the sister’s have come from a godly institution governed by wicked men, therefore understand what it is to be subjected to an unplanned fate. I have always imagined each of us had anticipated various sufferings when taking our vows such as going hungry, being cold and tired or working our bodies andminds and hearts to the bone for the lost and hurting. Butneverin our wildest dreams or even nightmares did we foresee that the people meant to educate and protect us in holy ways would do thewicked, wickedthings they did.”
With every word, her grip on his dick and attention had tightened. He was done but didn’t want to disturb her diabolical confession, finding the need to hear all of it along with a burning sensation along his spine. It wasn’t new to him and yet was. Understanding his reaction competed with his need to hear it from the mouth of one who’d experienced it. “Why?”
She snapped her face to him, her stormy gaze full of the past’s shadows. She gasped at seeing he was done and she still strangled his cock. “Heavens!”
He watched her remove the jar carefully then hurry it to the side table. “I am cutting you loose,” she announced, grabbing the scissors and moving to his ankles.”
“Why?”
“Because I believe you don’t deserve to be tied here.”
It was the answer to the wrong question, and she gave it like an obvious fact, distracting him. “Why do you believe that?”
“I just do,” she answered.
Her reckless stupidity lit a short fuse. “You would untie the man who tried to kill your leader, and you don’t even know why.”
“Ha! I never said I didn’t know why,” she chided, cutting away. “Of course I know why.”
He weighed which answers he needed to which question more. “Then why?”
“Because I can tell things about people,” she said with a little shoulder shrug, not looking at him.