" In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. All right. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything.
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