Rose's POV
I glared down at the man whose balls I'd just crushed, his body limp and useless on the floor. His face was twisted in agony, even unconscious, but he'd survive—though probably wishing he hadn't. The sight of him, broken but alive, was almost pathetic. I crouched down, tying them up tight so they couldn't pull any bullshit when they came to. Grace stood off to the side, her voice shaky as she protested.
"You don't need to tie them up like that…"
I shot her a sharp look, cutting her off. "You want them loose? It's dangerous to leave them like this."
She went quiet after that.
Once they were bound, I splashed some cold water over them, and Philip was the first to stir. His body twitched, a painful gasp leaving his mouth. Even with his dick practically obliterated, he was still alive, barely clinging on. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused, his mind still scrambling to understand the pain ripping through his body.
