She’s so patient as Claire slowly weaves the intricate design in rope. Standing still, turning when asked, it’s a beautiful process that Claire has started to love. There’s something about seeing her doll threads of rope that makes her immensely happy. And Kaia needs it, begs for it when it’s been too long. Because amidst the scars from her dreams, Kaia wants to look down and see scars that Claire has left behind on her skin. Kaia wants to – no, needs to – know that Claire is there with her always, and the scars are the only thing she can take with her when she sleeps.
“On your knees,” Claire demands, stepping back and reaching for another spool of rope.
Kaia drops without hesitation, hands bound behind her back and head ducking in submission. “Yes, mistress.”
This is Not a Blog 