Katie struggled, embarrassment and shame beginning to set in as she watched Ange. Her heart was racing and she could feel the self-loathing settling in. Of course the keyword was magical and that popped her out of her self hate and Katie tugged once more, wrists hurting, hoping Ange would not notice the box of unopened condoms or giant pile of George shirts she'd collected over the last year.
"I didn't burn anything!" She exclaimed before her cheeks flushed and she muttered her safe word, intent on killing George as soon as this day was over. "Purple."
The cliffs clicked free and she sighed with relief and rubbed her wrists, sitting up, wrapping her sheet around her and stretching her arms, getting blood circulating.
"My shack washed over the side of a cliff and the dog ate the other..."