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[  CLEAN UP  ] (Madeleine cleaning Charles’ wounds)

Charles opened his eyes in his own bed. Someone must have carried him as he fell asleep in the torture chamber, and dressed him up while he was unconscious as he was now clad in a shift. The air around him was bright, humid and cool, meaning the bed curtons had been opened. His legs and feet felt uncomfortably cold and damp (probably from being washed to avoid amonia burns from his own urine), and the muscle from his cuts were bared to the air, and inner thighs closer to his knees were covered in nasty-looking burns. His throat felt absolutely parched.

A presence could be felt near him..."Claude ? What are you doing here ?"

He saw her, dressed in linen with a cloth and pitcher in her hands.

He forced himself to look at his lower body. It looked like the one of a corpse, much to his disgust. He was no longer phobic of them as he was as a child, but the thought of looking like one while still alive seemed and felt rather disgusting.

The boy blushed furiously. Being surprised in a post-punishment state by other men was one thing, especially experienced but non-sadistic disciplinarians. But in front of his older sister, it was something different, more awkward.

"Thanks...I'll take care of myself."

He tried to turn his body...but it HURT so much ! Charles felt bile rising in his throat, and he had to put himself back into a more horizontal position, well nested inside the soft matras. Even if the way his father used the brodequin was less severe than the judicial type, it was still absolute torture.

I just hope if you are reading this you know you are amazing and gorgeous in ever way. I personally have been feeling really insecure about my acne. I hope things are better for you. And feel free to vent to me.