#technicallt

You would enter her lab, ostensibly to have your organs plucked at like an aggressive violinist playing Flight of the Bumblebee, and she would greet you with all smiles. Her hands on your waist, in your hair, and the kiss she all but demanded you give her in greeting.

And then after, she would lay next to your still open ribcage and toy with the meat on your ribs. And yes, it was still painful the 27th time she did it, but it was also mundane at that point and your mind drifted off while she amused herself.

You hadn't meant to. But at one point you were wondering about how long her finger would stay plunged between two ribs and drifted to how Lady Dimitrescu was that morning. She would be getting back to the village around now, wouldn't she? Private jet, of course, little chance of danger and even less chance of anything bad happening even if a complication arose.

And then the unbidden feeling of missing her rose in your breast, and you suppressed the melodramatic sigh that rose into your throat.

And then Miranda broke your ribs and grabbed your lung.

You hissed with pain, your lung burning.

Miranda was laying next to you, her hand propped up on one hand, legs in the air like a giddy school girl, "Am I boring you, maid?"

Ah.

"Indeed." Miranda said, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Do not invade my mind." You croaked, gasping and being met with crushing pain.

"Shut up."

You shut up.

You struggled through each breath, your mind drifting back to your Lady and being aggressively yanked back by Miranda grabbing your lung in her fist and stroking it up and down like some malformed cock.

You cringed slightly and she scoffed.